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The whole and its parts

Give a listen to this conversation over at Mars Hill Audio Journal between Ken Myers and Patrick Deneen. Deneen teaches political theory at Georgetown University, and he and Myers discuss the philosophy of Wendell Berry, democracy, and the nature of contemporary politics.

Myers observes–with particular poignancy to our current election–that in the early years of this country, the Americans thinking deeply about the nature of governance and legislation were also the ones governing and legislating. In the last hundred years, the particular tasks of politics (and really, the particular tasks that make up all our lives) have been atomized into distinct specializations performed by experts, so that many politicians spend careers focused on the specializations of campaigning and legislating without dealing with  communities as a whole.

The philosophy of specialization and the metaphor of the machine have brought a similar fragmentation to every corner of our lives; our daily jobs, families, and our selves.

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Five weeks left.

I’ve been quietly training all summer because I didn’t want to let myself down. But things have gone well, and there are only five weeks left until I run my first Marathon!

Akron Marathon Course Video

I am SO excited. I’ll be running with Rob’s sister Molly, and my neighbor who trained with me last summer is going to be running the Half Marathon. We’ve overcome injuries, lack of sleep, Molly’s gone off to college, and we’re so ready to finally beat the 26.2 miles that have spent the year haunting us.

Wish us luck!

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Demophilus sums up my own thoughts on McCain’s response to the evil question at the Saddleback forum:

I cringed when McCain said he wanted to “defeat” evil, but its worth noting he immediately talked about hunting down bin Laden and winning the War on Terror. I think both formulations are wrong in their own way (I don’t much care about bin Laden, and I think the phrase “War on Terror” is stupid), but he wasn’t literally talking about the removal of evil from the world in a metaphysical sense. In fact, he was responding to Rick Warren’s formulation of picking between “ignoring, negotiating with, containing, or defeating” evil — I would have chosen “contain,” but isn’t nuance lost in most multiple choice settings?

If you’re going to compare cringe-worthy quotes from the debate, though, Obama’s “above my pay grade” comment regarding giving human rights to babies made me wince far more. Gene Veith discusses that one here.

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Bad idea, gone worse

Rob has elevated the content of our blog again, so I’m going to deflate it with this nice story of what you should never do.

I was supposed to run 8 miles this morning, but Elise is on a sleeping strike so I woke up moments before Rob had to leave for work. This obviously left no time for me to squeeze in even a shortened run. So instead, I decided to load up the bike trailer and my bike and take the girls on a long nap-time bike ride.

When ever I do my city errands on the bike I’m shouting back to Elise not to drift off between stops so I was certain it would take no time for her to zonk and I would get a good 90 minutes of biking on the trails before Olivia got bored. Well, I was so wrong. SOOOOOO wrong.

Elise didn’t fall asleep until after we had gone about 10 miles and she had cried for the last 3 of them. I kept thinking, “just a little farther and she’ll be out.” But no. I had promised Olivia that we’d see this long tunnel before we turned around, but there was no way I would have made it the next 3 miles before Elise totally freaked out so we headed home, defeated.

I kid you not, a mile and a half after I turned back for home Elise fell asleep, so I asked Liv if she still wanted to see the tunnel. “Yes!” she said, and so I turned around yet again.

We didn’t even make it back to the point where we turned around the first time and now Olivia was telling me that she wanted to go home because she was tired. AAHHHHH! Olivia’s beseaching me to turn around woke Elise back up leaving us with 10 miles of screaming until we could get back to the car.

To make matters worse, I had to stop the bike about every 5 minutes or so because Elise would pull Olivia’s hair in her anger, or Olivia would steal Elise’s water bottle. Or who knows what else they managed to think of to make me have to stop. At one point I was walking down the trail holding a sobbing Elise, walking my bike, which was dragging the empty trailer and being followed by a sobbing Olivia.

What had been carefully planned to take only 90 minutes turned into 3 hours of riding around like a spectacle. I was pitied, glared at, gawked at, and only once did anyone offer to help me. Not like there was anything anyone could have done.

The only thing that I could say I liked about that whole ordeal was when we passed 3 pregnant moms and their spouses riding on bikes in the opposite direction and I could see the look of horror on all of their faces as they thought, “OH! What are we getting ourselves into?!” Other than that I almost swore off biking for life. If the trailer hadn’t cost $250 I might have.

The Everybodyfields

Some really pretty stuff on Daytrotter this week.

My Sister-in-Law has been inviting Olivia over on Tuesdays so that they can go to the pool. Today I left Elise with them as well and I got some errands taken care of. I never thought I’d enjoy having a day to myself as much as I do, and I never thought I’d feel as guilt-free for enjoying it. Maybe I won’t be a very good homeschooler after all!

I ran to the post office to get my passport updated. It is very frustrating to go through all this work and driving to discover that I could have just done the whole process through the mail since it is just a renewal and not a new application. Even more frustrating is discovering that I could have done it for free if I had done it within the first year after our wedding and name change. Today I wrote a check for $75 to the Department of Security, or something like that. It’s very nerve wracking to send all of that personal information through the mail. I got a delivery confirmation.

Then I stopped by a friend’s house for lunch and to drop off a gift for her new baby. We actually had some time to talk, since her little one was asleep and mine were splashing at the pool with Aunt Sarah.

Then I stopped back home to let the dog out before I went to pick up the girls and our tile for our new bathroom project was on the front porch. I had no idea what it was until I picked it up and brought it in. I just knew that the package was 100 pounds. It said so right on the shipping form. When Olivia found it later in the evening she asked if we could glue them to the wall in the bathroom today. Then she scattered the packing peanuts all over the floor. Nice.

Summer-a-thon

We have been crazy-busy this year. When there is no baby in the house life can really speed up! Sometimes I miss the slow motion lifestyle of a baby, and then I remember how nice it is to get some sleep (some nights anyway).

The girls have been going to the pool a lot, thanks to aunt Sarah. And Rob has started running, too. I injured my IT band, so I’ve been doing about every exercise excluding running. Plus to save money on gas we bought a bike trailer which I have been using to do my short errands with the girls. They love it and so do I.

The garden is really in high gear now and this is Elise’s first experience with pulling something out of the dirt and eating it 5 minutes later. You’d think that fiber would help in potty-training, but alas it does not. Yesterday we ate the last three carrots from the first planting, the second group shouldn’t be mature for about 3 more weeks. We also began munching on the greenbeans, but unfortunately so have the Japanese Beatles.

I also made my first attempt at canning something from my garden. I have a TON, I repeat, TON of Hungarian Hot Peppers so I decided to pickle them to use as pizza toppings and give some away. Well, it didn’t work, The seal was no good. Maybe next time.

Learning to pray

Over the past six months, and especially in the past three weeks, I’ve been relearning what it means to pray. The process started when our family began to try and worship regularly using the Prayer at the Close of the Day service in the Lutheran Service Book prayer card.

The Close of Day service is simple: A benediction, a responsory reading drawn from Psalm 92:1, a scripture reading, the Creed, a common reading of the Song of Simeon, the Lord’s Prayer, prayer for others and ourselves, and finally Luther’s close of day prayer from the Small Catechism. Ordinary as it is, we were doing far less beforehand, and going through an entire prayer service felt like a stretch at first. Now, a few months later, I daily look forward to this family worship time.

Though I didn’t realize it at first, adopting a prayer service was a complete turn around from the meager way we spent our time before. Our prayers basically consisted of a few words before bedtime with our daughters, occasionally including the Lord’s Prayer, or a confession of the Creed. On a given night, we might have used some of the same elements the Close of Day service includes, but the structure was always spontaneous.

The prayer service, on the other hand, is always the same. Once tedious, I now find this a great comfort. Regardless of my mood, the leftover stress from a long day at work, or the unpredictable tempers of my children, the structure remains the same. This creates a rhythm that steadies us. Especially as we continue to pray many of the words time and time again, associations with the syllables and phrases build in and between us, so that we come to know the service as we know one another.

Some of you may wonder if praying in this way is doomed to become empty ritual. I’m certain that we’re capable of sucking all the life out of this good gift if we approach it mindlessly. But night after night, I’m refreshed because the form of the service is declarative. Evening worship not our activity, but God’s event. Nightly, I hear myself say “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” and I and my family echo back “Amen.” In our little house in Akron, we have again heard God put His name upon us, and in that one “Amen,” we have answered back “Yes, yes. It is so.”

Understanding family worship as an event–God’s event, not our own–blows my mind. Where prayer for me used to consist of running down a well-worn list of requests out of some sense of responsibility, I now find myself coming to hear again what God has to say. We open up His Word, and what it has to say is good. And when we bow our heads to voice our petitions, we pray in Christ. In the mystery of our baptism, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, Christ is our mediator, petitioning the Father for us. The drama in worship goes far beyond our own words on our lips; but in Christ, God’s words are upon our tongues! As we ask in the first words of the service:

It is good to give thanks to the Lord,
to sing praise to your name, O Most High;

To herald Your love in the morning,
Your truth at the close of the day.

What is it that’s good about this? Not that we all happened to read some scripture together, but that we hear God’s great love again, our ears are filled with his truth. The heralds are not giving this simple evening prayer service its oomph, the action of God is! And this is obvious when we speak together Simeon’s beautiful response to laying eyes on God-in-the-flesh, Christ:

Lord, now You let Your servant go in peace;
Your word has been fulfilled.
My own eyes have seen the salvation
which You have prepared in the sight of every people:
A light to reveal You to the nations
and the glory of Your people Israel.

Of course you’d want to say the Gloria Patri after that!

Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit;
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.

God’s event don’t work like human events. They don’t go hand-in-hand with some kind of emotional rush. In fact, it’s common that we say the final “Thanks be to God,” without feeling a thing. And the Word of God that we hear doesn’t sound like we think it should–a booming thunderclap from the heavens, or even a still, small voice in the bossom. Instead, the Word of God sounds like our own weak and humble words, occasionally faltering and stammering over the Lord’s Prayer, a Psalm, or the words of Simeon I quoted above. It sounds like my daughter’s tiny voice announcing to those of us gathered in the bedroom “…for Thine is the Kingdom! and the Power! and the GLORY!” This may not be what we expect, but yet we say “Amen,”–this is most certainly true.

For the first time in my life, I find myself genuinely loving prayer. I pack my little prayer card in my laptop bag and take it to work, then sneak out and sit and my car and say the noon prayer service aloud to myself. We’ve even begun going through the morning prayer service together before or after breakfast. This excitement may not last forever, but it is a good gift, and I thank God for it.

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Pray for soldiers

This story in this morning’s USA Today is heart-wrenching. We must pray for soldiers. Lord, have mercy.

Movie review

We haven’t seen it yet, but Dreher’s review of Wall-E makes me think we ought to soon.

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Quote

Sasse:

Whenever the Lord’s Supper has been permitted to decay, the boundary lines between church and world have universally disappeared and the church has been absorbed into the world.

Amen.

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Higher Things

We had the best group of kids for Higher Things. Going into any event as the chaperone has its helping of worry. Will the kids be involved, will they listen, will they have fun? Will there be an emergency? I was feeling all those things on the ride out there, but our group proved very responsible and very fun. Here they are singing Dave Matthews Band songs in the van.

Rob and I were continually asked if we were students, and often no one believed that we were leaders until we told them that we had two kids at home. I guess that is flattering.

Well, like I said, the kids were awesome. They made friends, took notes, asked questions, sang at the top of their lungs and I was proud to be their leader. They were even better at keeping curfew than Rob and I. All I have to say is that I’m sure that Lutherans plan their conference location around dive bars…

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Relief

Last week, Devona and I chaperoned our church’s youth group to the Higher Things conference in Scranton, Pennsylvania (I hope to write more about this in a few other posts, too). The conference was such a blessing, and it’s very possible that we got more out of it than even the kids did.

Specifically, though, the conference gave me the chance to recollect some of my most formative experiences growing up heavily involved in a modern evangelical church: Summer camps and conferences were a huge part of my Christian identity when I was young. I have fierce memories of crowding together into a darkened, sweaty gymnasium with hundreds of other teenagers, a stage washed in concert lights, the roar of electric guitars, raised hands, tearful repentance, the ultimate conviction that this was where we belonged.

It’s hard to shake off moments like that, and years of them piled up to convince me that I was called to be a minister–after all, that fire in my heart had to be a calling from God, right? Night after night, with the echo of those drums ringing in my ears, I’d lay awake with my certain future in ministry spreading out in front of me.

When it came time to pick a college, I was sure I needed to attend one of our loose denomination’s Bible colleges (later shot down by my parents). I wanted to join up with a good worship band. Maybe become a missionary. I hardly gave a future in the secular world a thought–I was certain I would be doing something in the church.

But then real life woke me up. As I finished high school and began college, leading worship services, mentoring newer Christians, and guiding Bible studies, I began to have real questions. Struggles with sin. Doubts. It just wasn’t always easy to stay on the mountaintop. I began to loathe the fire in my heart. I was angry about it, ashamed. How could someone called by God feel so conflicted?

it only got worse, and my wife (at that time, my fiance) and I came to a spiritual crisis. We were burnt out. We needed the Gospel, and we needed it desperately. And though it was being preached in some form all around us, we were deaf to it. The message was too mixed. Grace didn’t seem free, and we felt like we were in chains.

By the time we ended up in the small LCMS church we still attend, I’d walled off my heart from any hope of becoming a pastor. I was bitter with my Christian experience, certain that I’d fallen prey to my own emotions at a vulnerable age. I convinced myself that work in the church was something I could never do, someone else’s job, someone else’s problem. The ache to serve, though, never left. And over the last five years I continued to struggle with anger and sorrow at its persistence. Time and again, the desire would well up inside me. And in all that bitterness I had only one answer: “No.” Considering a life in ministry, after the emotional wringing I’d felt I’d been through, was impossible. But why couldn’t I get rid of this burden? Get on with clocking in and out of my nine-to-six job, living in my vocation as father to my kids, husband to my wife, and hard-working employee at my job?

At some point during the conference last week, though, something changed. There were no sweaty gymnasiums, no flood-lighted stages, no roaring electric guitars. No calls for tearful emotional repentance, and no emotional revelations. I laid awake in my bunk in the University of Scranton dorms, listening to the sound of teenagers talking outside–teenagers so much like I must have been years ago–and laying my spiritual past alongside these similar, but so tremendously different experiences at Higher Things. Day after day I heard the preaching of Christ, Christ, and Christ again. I received Christ, again, again, and again. I went to confession and absolution, I laid down my pride and heard that I was forgiven. And somehow, all that anger started to disipate. The six-foot thick concrete walls I’d built between myself and the possibility of a life serving the church started to crumble.

It’s so hard to put into words, but I guess I just started feeling alive again. And when I asked myself why I felt so alive, the obvious answer was because I’d just stopped saying “No. Not that. Anything but that.” Somehow, I found myself open again. Open to possibilities. And no longer afraid that caring about the truth of the Gospel would lead me over a cliff. Not certain of anything, to be sure, but I find myself with a heart that is more tender, rather than bitter. And a temperament that is more patient, not angry.

And the burden is gone. The weight I felt every morning when I woke up, and every night when I came home weary from the office has lifted. And for now, that’s good enough. I don’t know if I’ll ever pursue the ministry, but wondering, thinking, talking, and most of all praying about it does not seem so hard any longer. And if that means I can be a little more at peace, then that’s good enough for me.

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Genuine zeal

Worth remembering:

While genuine zeal in the discharge of one’s office is necessary and important, this cannot be said regarding any kind of zeal. There is a false, ungodly, carnal zeal that does not come from God and is not produced by the Holy Spirit, but is rooted either in animosity against those who teach a different doctrine or in the selfish thought that a display of zeal will bring the minister honor, at least in certain congregations, or in fanaticism.

- CFW Walther, Law and Gospel

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Sand

Our most recent bargain is the castle shaped sandbox I got for $7 at a garage sale. I brought it home, we filled it with sand and it’s been fun ever since. Our neighbor came over and said exactly what I was thinking, “That’s one less sandbox in the landfill.” I love my neighbors.

Unfortunately, Elise was napping the Sunny Sunday afternoon that these pictures were taken. I will have to get some of her in the sandbox as well. Elise’s style of sand-play is mostly filling and dumping, repeat.

Olivia prefers tossing sand (argh) and asking me to help her build sand castles. These are the “really big” sand castles that she wanted me to take a picture of her smashing.

Following this act of violence we proceeded to make Cair Paravel including the children, a pack of wolves, a whale, some dolphins, a dragon, and Aslan himself.

There is sand all over my kitchen floor.

312 Urban WheatGoose Island’s 312 Urban Wheat Ale has got to be my favorite summertime brew. Light, creamy, smooth, and genuinely refreshing.

Anyone else have a favorite summertime drink?

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T-Bone Burnett discusses recording techniques and a sense of place on this week’s All Songs Considered. This is essential listening if you care at all about music, or if you wonder why listening to most of the stuff on the radio today just feels so exhausting.

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Life has changed

I’ve been floored by this set of images from the Library of Congress, showing American life throughout the Great Depression and World War II. The addition of color makes it clear in a new way just how much life has changed, and how much more comfortable we all are now. I’m not so sure that we’re better for it.

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Tunes

Some really good stuff was put up on Daytrotter this morning. Listen.

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Akron’s finest

The Black Keys have just put together their best record yet: Attack & Release. I’m proud to say that these guys are from Akron, our hometown. Even with their huge success (supermegastar producer Danger Mouse worked on this album), they’ve stayed here, and have no plans to move–which is pretty cool, considering the mass exodus of young people to places that occasionally enjoy sunshine. They developed their sound to match the abandoned rubber factories and gray skies of our dear old city, and it’s great stuff (trust me, I know that music birthed from a blue collar rustbelt town doesn’t exactly entice, but it’s good. Really.)

Here’s a little video tour the duo gave to a Wall Street Journal reporter. I was happy to see shots of our neighborhood (Square Records and Highland Square is right around the corner).

Update: The related article in the Wall Street Journal is decent, too.

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Indexed

With images like these, you know it’s a great blog.

Waking up with Elise

This is a pretty accurate demonstration of what it’s like to be awakened by Elise.

Great game

This may be the greatest game ever made. ;-)

Kyle

Poor Kyle. He let me take this picture and now it’s on the internet.

In case any of his future employers google his name and somehow get this site (Good for him we don’t share a last name anymore) he’s a bright and creative young man. Don’t let the kitsch fool you.

Hairspray

I saw it. I LOVED it. I want to see it again.

because the Queen has nominated our blog for the Thinking Blogger Award! thinkingblogger2ql6.jpg

Which isn’t fair, because she is one of my 5 nominations, so I’ll have to find a replacement now…

These blogs have consistently kept me reading, thinking, and encouraged:

1. Manila Drive- And not just cause they’re my best friends.

2. Nine Tons of Marble- On all things beautiful, and beautifully simple.

3. This Classical Life- Her books read this year will put you to shame!

4. TulipGirl- Gentle, thoughtful, and Graceful

5. Moot Thoughts & Musings- Crafty, motherly, and a little bit funky. I think she’s one of “My kind of people.”

If you’re sitting around feeling un-patriotic you should read this book:

The Killer Angels

It is soooooo good.

…Slate reports that Americans are leaving beer for wine.

How exciting. I get to have a handmade vintage styled apron as a prize. I knew that those 4 years of college would pay off somehow!

Honestly though, I’m very flattered.

VBS question

If you sent your school aged child to our VBS, and they came home with a giant scroll made out of fabric and had pictures depicting the theme that Christ is prophesied throughout the Old Testement, would you think that was cool? OR would you rather have a bunch of little cheapie crafts like key chains and picture frames?

I’m asking seriously. I have to make a decision in a couple of weeks about craft for this year, and I want to make sure I have input.

So lurkers, frequent posters, friends and passers-by, please lemme know if you think that craft is cool or not. Thanks.

Downtown Library

The downtown Library is our favorite family outing. I get the baby slings, the double stroller, the canvas bag and, of course, the girls, and we trek down there for a few hours every couple of weeks. Every time we park in a parking garage Liv asks if we’re at the library.

Today we stopped to say hello to the wooden Elephant statue, paid a $13.00 fine (!!!) and spent the morning playing in the children’s area. Then we buckled into our seats in the stroller and rolled our way to the mom-section (sewing and child development and cookbooks are all within 3 shelves of each other!) and I found exactly what I was looking for.

Then a homeless woman who calls herself “Mama Rose” held the elevator door for us and told us that she will not tolerate anyone disrespecting the children in this town. I thanked her and we went on our way. I saw her later when a young man, who I’m supposing was not related to her said, “Good morning, Mama Rose. Good to see you.” I’m glad she has the library to hang out and stay warm. I’m also glad that my children have enough exposure to the homeless and other people unlike themselves that they can be comfortable, and gracefully cautious, around them.
On our way out Olivia declared, “I love the library!”

busy blogging day.

But I had to share this diveo that Hathor the Cow Godess linked to.

My ride is sooooooo mommed.

Actually it’s here!

HT Kristen.

Edited to add: notes from Andy, worth reading as always:

Andy S says : I feel that this test is great, but that a young, up-and-coming student of Devona like myself is likely to become discouraged after basically failing (unless you\’re on the 10-pt scale) the first quiz. Isn\’t there a study-session or something? More questions would help the student have a higher percentage, I feel.

Do YOU Etsy?

You should! Here’s my Etsy shop, which I am finally listing items on.

Yesterday I found a button I could post on our blog to advertise my shop, but now  I can’t find it again. That’s a little frustrating.

So if you are getting lost linking around their site (like I always do) and you come across that button maker thing, let me know ok?

Oh. And if you want a baby carrier, buy one from me!

Toy Story and NPR

That’s about all of the electric media that I consume outside of the internet. And when you don’t have television (in order to save money and save our children from widespread, unadulterated marketing) I end up hearing both ALL THE TIME. Olivia watches Toy Story at least every other day. She watches part of it every day. I am becoming intimate with all of the nuance and depth of Woody and the gang. And since my other brain-rot outlet is NPR I have developed some fun characterizations of your favorite toy Cowboy.

Woody is the equivalent of G.W. Bush. The All American Cowboy who’s used to things being his way. Then along comes Buzz Lightyear (the Democratic Party) which comes along and spoils all the wild western fun. Now, since Andy (who represents America) wants Woody and Buzz to get along, they’ve gotta find some way to make some bipartisan progress. Read the rest of this entry »

Caught a bug

The Love and Blunder family has just recovered (or is almost recovered) from a very icky bug which stopped by around New Years. But this post is about a different bug.

I have caught the running bug. I’ve been running at least 3 times a week for the past two weeks, and every day I like it more. I’m finding that it is exactly what I’ve been needing. I think it is that I can get away from everything and everyone for an hour and listen to music.

The other perk of running is that children CAN NOT touch you while you are running. You have your whole body to yourself, which isn’t so spectacular unless you are the mother of two small and happily attached children.

I’m probably going to be running in the Cleveland Half Marathon this May. My Papa ran it way back when, so it’s only fitting that it be my first.

And just for fun. Here’s the playlist that I made to work out to. You’ve gotta have tunes in the iPod age, and these ones are just right for running: Read the rest of this entry »

Last night we had some very good friends over for a little get together. Two friends from college, our daughters’ God-parents and their son Deacon, Rob and I all partied until way later than we should have. I got jealous of a MacBook and wished we had Photo Booth on our OS10. I drank more in one sitting than I have in years (2 drinks in as many hours). And we woke up a lot since all the kids were sick.

Today, I celebrated 2007 day number one in a steamy bathroom, eating brie, reading a book by John McWhorter, and holding a very sick 3 month old hoping to clear her congested chest.

Partying as a parent! Woot.

Olivia’s late nap

OK, so we moved Olivia into a toddler bed, which she has been a little nervous about, but has been very determined to use. Elise is almost ready to move into the crib, and since it is in Olivia’s room I’m not too worried about her feeling lonely, especially since she sleeps at least 6 to 7 hour stretches at night, and does almost all of her napping in my arms.

So anyway, today Olivia didn’t want to go to sleep, but I knew that she was very tired, so I closed her in her room for a “quiet time” and told her that I’d be back in an hour, and she could call me if she needed me. In that time she pooped, and called for me, banged around and made a mess, and was generally peacefully occupied in her room. Well, I went up at the end of the hour and she was asleep. Not only that, but she had carefully tucked herself into her bed all by herself, and she is sleeping soundly. It’s all very cute, but now I’m trying to decide if I should wake her up, since it’s dinner time in a half hour?

Difficult situation…

Christmas Quizzy!

From Katie’s Beer, via Shelley’s Talk blog. I haven’t done a quiz in a long time, but this one seemed especially worth my time. Since I have insomnia tonight (I fell asleep with the snuggly baby and the snuggly doggie on the couch, and then when I went to bed I remembered that Elise has peed on the sheets this morning, so I had to change them. That woke me up too much so now I’m here trying to get sleepy again.)
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?

Really I’d just prefer cookies and coffee.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?

We’re still trying to figure out what Santa does in our home.

3. Colored or white lights on the tree and/or house?

White. It just looks so classy.
4. Do you hang mistletoe?

No.

5. When do you put your decorations up?

I put things up the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?

There never were any specifically Christmas dishes in my family growing up, so I have come to really looks forward to Mary’s oyster stew on Christmas Eve.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child.

I have a very particular memory of looking up at the lights from under the tree, and feeling very magical.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? Read the rest of this entry »

Don’t tell Elise…

but she just got a dozen of these for Christmas. What else do you get for a baby when mom has a meticulous system for hand-me-downs?

Knock Knock

x-posted at the old blog

I don’t know why, but every child must learn to tell a knock knock joke. I think that it must be a prerequisite for reading. This is Olivia’s:

Mom: Say, “knock knock.”

Liv: Knock knock.

Other family member: Who’s there?

Liv: Radio not…

Mom: Wait! Say, “Radio.”

Liv: Radio.

Other family member: Radio who?

Liv: (30 seconds of silence)

Mom: (elevated eyebrows of encouragement)

Liv: Radio not! Here I come!

Everyone: (exaggerated giggling)

… since Rob moved us here. This blog doesn’t yet feel like home for me. I guess I’d grown attached to the old one. I can’t find anything worth saying. I think that it is because Rob is blogging again, and I find him such a better writer than I am. He writes so formally, and I am more prone to the ramblings of stream of consciousness.

He’s just a more organized thinker than I am in all ways. I thrive (and get smothered if I’m not careful) in chaos, Rob enjoys reading books like Getting Things Done- The Art of Stress-free Productivity. So, I guess I’m afraid that my ramblings will mess up his vision for the blog.

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Two poems

These have been recently on my mind. Both are by Gerard Manley Hopkins:

God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And, for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastwards, springs–
Because the Holy Ghost over bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

“As kingfishers catch fire”

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves–goes its self; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is–
Christ. For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

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Renewed

It’s been a very long time. Welcome to the new site.

As most anyone reading this knows, my wife and I have been running Love & Blunder over at Blogger for quite a while. If you know that much, you also know that it had been a while since I’d posted much of anything on the ol’ blog; something I regret.

Hence, the website you’re looking at now. This is the new Love & Blunder. I’ve had a longing to get back into blogging–though my motives may be a bit different than they were just over two years ago when I began–and starting a new site was just what I needed to get me excited about the prospect of writing again.

We’ll probably keep the Blogger site around for a while. Neither of us want to abandon it, and Devona thinks she’ll still post over there every now and then. But look forward to seeing lots more of us over here.

Let me know what you think of the new design, too. I think I’m happy with it, but I’m still deciding. Comments are much appreciated.

Talk to you all soon.

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