Books, Thunderstorms, End of the School Year, and Other Miscellaneous Musings

Last night I went browsing at a couple of bookstores to try to find the Anne of Green Gables series in box set. The school has a few of them, and I've been reading (or, devouring) them this last week. Have you ever thought of books as friends? The Anne books are that for me -- dear old well-beloved friends. Monday night, when I was finishing up Anne of Green Gables, I sobbed -- sobbed! -- through the last four chapters, and laughed at myself for crying so hard, and then cried some more. If you've read it, you probably understand. It's been wonderfully restful to come home from school and sit in my comfy chair and just read for hours. I haven't done that in far too long.

On my way home from the bookstore, I got caught out in the worst thunderstorm of the year so far. Rain was coming down, hammer and tongs, with lightning streaking across the sky and downbursts of wind from the edge of the storm. When it started hailing, I pulled over in front of the Lyndon fire station, got in the rain shadow of the building, and prayed that the doors wouldn't suddenly open and a fire engine come roaring out! I listened in dismay as the hail pelted the back end of my car, and when it subsided, I pulled around to the side of the building just in case and waited for the rain to let up. It was wild! The hail turned out to be in the half-inch to two-inch range -- definitely the largest hail I've seen since I've been here.

I have two more academic days left at school, and then three fun days which will involve a baseball game, a field day, a talent show, an awards ceremony, and a picnic! And then three glorious months of Summer stretching out in front of me, waiting to be filled with cook-outs and visits from family and afternoons when it's too hot to leave the house and days by the pool and sunburns and hot, muggy air, and melty ice cream and all manner of other delights.

Do all teachers get a panicky feeling about how much hard-fought learning their students will inevitably forget between now and next year? Ooh. That reminds me. I need to get my hands on a couple copies of the books I'm assigning my 8th graders (almost 9th graders! Imagine!) over the Summer... Mwahahaha...

The Funniest Video I Have EVER Seen

Um...Yeah... Totally Unrelated to Kitchen Keeping at All

So, the movie He's Just Not That Into You comes out February 6th in the U.S. Having read excerpts of the book and knowing the general premise (namely that a man who likes a woman goes after her, therefore if he doesn't go after her, he isn't interested in her), I'm predisposed to like it already.

Potential pros of this movie:
good plot premise
awkwardness
Justin Long
Ginnifer Goodwin
seriously, Ben Affleck is in this movie? Where the crap has he been the last five years?

Potential cons of this movie:
cheesiness
over-awkwardness
Drew Barrymore
Drew Barrymore is a terrible actress
She also is awkward
She's also not very bright-seeming
Also Drew Barrymore.

But anyway...

This video definitely increased the probability that I will drop ten bucks to go see HJNTIY. It's about six minutes long, and it's called "10 Chick-Flick Cliches You Won't Find in He's Just Not That Into You."* It stars three of the male leads, who act out the ten chick-flick cliches, complete with soaring violins and green-screen backgrounds. Classic!

*Caution: N particularly SFW as it contains one bleeped but still recognizable off-color remark.

Amen!

Blessing over Beer from the Rituale Romanum:

Bless, O Lord, this creature beer, which thou hast deigned to produce from the fat of grain: that it may be a salutary remedy to the human race, and grant through the invocation of thy holy name; that, whoever shall drink it, may gain health in body and peace in soul. Through Christ our Lord.

Seriously? (and a few random notes)

Whoa. I just scrolled down through this page and realized I've written almost nothing of theological significance in the last several weeks. Zoinks. It's probably one of two things: either I am a hopeless sinner blinded the trivialities of daily life, or I spend every day talking about God's precious word and his sovereignty in human history, teaching third, fourth, and eighth graders about this beautiful, broken world God will one day redeem, and by the time I get home, I'm all theologied out. Or maybe both.

So... there's a sizable kerfluffle in the blog world over the issue of whether or not Christians should celebrate a particular holiday with supposedly pagan roots. A holiday whose celebration, detractors claim, sends Christians inevitably down an idolatrous spiral of demon-worship. A holiday whose practices are outlawed by chapter and verse in Jeremiah. Pagan worship! Outright idolatry! Animism!

Well, good heavens, you might say! What is this pernicious, godless event that we've thoughtlessly allowed into our homes, welcoming with it the very blackest forms of paganism?

It's not Halloween. It's Christmas.

No, seriously.

Apparently, Jeremiah 10:2-4 condemns the practice of putting up and decorating Christmas trees. Leaving aside the kinda comical levels of anachronism we've got here, let's not be hasty. Judge for yourself:

Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them. For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.

OK. So what we have here is... God telling the people not to put up Christmas trees? Huh. Weird.

Because it seems to me that what's actually happening is that Jeremiah the prophet is warning Judah that their sin is fixin' to bring down God's wrath and judgment, and this passage is part of God's case against them. It just so happens that last week's Bible lesson at school was "The Ministry of Jeremiah." So tell me, third and fourth graders, what was the main sin of Judah that caused God to send judgment on them?

Idolatry.

And why is idolatry not only sinful but also stupid? Because, as Isaiah says, idolaters take a log, carve half of it into a statue they bow down to, and throw the other half onto the fire to make their dinner. Because, Jeremiah reminds them, the idols are mute, they're nothing, they can't even move from place to place but have to be carried (10:5). Condemnation of Christmas trees? Ummmm... I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that that's NOT a responsible exegesis of this passage.

There are more legs to their argument (the only birthdays mentioned in the Scriptures are those of pagans whom God struck down so we have no business celebrating Jesus' birthday, Yule celebrates demonic pagan deities and harkens back to weird druidy times, etc.), and I could pick each one apart, but I just can't... be bothered. It's all so silly! Surely there are other things we could focus on, right?

(Incidentally, this is a great example of what one blog I recently read called "The Arithmetic Method" of theology. Thought-provoking article. Check it out.)

So, here are a couple things you could focus on if you felt like it:

1. Listen up, Church. (I'm about to get fired up here, so watch out!) Stop letting Joel and Victoria Osteen off the hook. Stop justifying their heresy. Stop nurturing the notion that they're merely addled -- like that sweet but dim-witted cousin everybody loves while being slightly embarassed about -- and get it in your head that they are preaching a different Gospel. Go read Galatians 1:8. (Go ahead, I'll wait...) The Osteens are inviting a curse on themselves. Stay far, far away from their "ministry" and, if you love your brothers and sisters in Christ, warn them about it too.

2. Open iTunes (or the legal online music acquisition apparatus of your choice) and download the following albums immediately: Shai Linne's Storiez, Flame's Our World Redeemed, and LeCrae's Rebel. Then revel and rejoice in the work God is doing through these warriors of the faith and their bold Gospel preaching.

Davidson vs. West Virginia

U.G.L.Y.
You ain't got no alibi--
You ugly! Yeah, yeah, you ugly!

M.A.M.A.
I know how you got that way--
Yo' mama! Yeah, yeah, yo' mama!

Man. Last night's Davidson vs. West Virginia game, the first of the Jimmy V double-header, was the ugliest basketball game I think I've ever seen. The Cats made the Mountaineers look like the JV squad in the first half, ripping up the WVa defense and sending their coach's blood pressure (which seemed to be an issue anyway) through the vaulted ceiling of Madison Square Garden. The balance of the game tipped seriously in Davidson's favor when the Mountaineers' only remaining guard, who had been tiptoeing around the court trying not to re-injure the shoulder that kept him out of WV's last game, slumped off the court toward the locker room six minutes in, with another shoulder contusion.

Then Davidson spent the next twenty minutes trying to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, as Curry went cold for more than a dozen field goal attempts and the team battled against a reinvigorated WVa defense.

The Wildcats (whose roster boasts players from five states plus Quebec, Sussex, Turkey, and Nigeria) seemed to be trying to give up a win to a team playing without their two starting guards, a team that missed 12 of their 29 free throws, and who never had more than a four point lead. But the Mountaineers snagged a massive 32 offensive rebounds to the Cats' 12, which kept them in the game -- though, as a Davidson fan, I'll of course chalk this up to the fact that West Virginia is a taller team at every position.

It was a weird game. Davidson's coach, Bob McKillop, who is a cool character in most situations, exploded at his team during a mid-second-half time out. Even the unflusterable Curry grimaced and shook his head after missed shots, while his cowed teammates tried to keep him fired up.

Finally, in the last five minutes, the Cats gelled, turning up their defense, using clever inbounding strategies, bouncing off screens, and feeding the ball to Curry, who at last sank three after glorious three. I ask you: can that kid cut, or can that kid cut? He's smart, he's fast, and he can stop on a dime; WVa's defenders didn't have a blessed chance against his quickness and shot selection once he remembered how to play basketball again late in the second half. A drive, some fancy ball handling, two steps back... and voila. A hard-fought win.

The Best Christmas Anecdote Ever. EVER.

The Most Hilarious thing happened today. I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things to help with leftover management, and as I was walking in the doors, I heard this... weird music. Like an old electric organ.

Hmm. Electric organ piped through the sound system seemed like an odd choice for the inevitable Christmas music that will be playing for the next month. But, as it turned out, it wasn't exactly what I thought it was.

Organ? Yes. Sound system? NO! INSTEAD, IT WAS A DREAM COME TRUE: Old lady. Hammond B2. SERIOUSLY BAD Christmas music. No, no, no... I don't think you understand how bad it was. Shockingly bad. And every time she played, there was somehow a synth drum in the background. "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." On an ORGAN. With a SYNTH DRUM accompaniment. I was waiting for Dom DeLuise to pop out from beyond the grave and tell everyone at Kroger that they were on Candid Camera.

People. This was EPIC.

LOVE IT

The "Prime Minister's Questions" part of C-Span coverage of the House of Commons, that is.

Here's how it goes down: The MPs don't address the PM directly, but ask the speaker, "Mr. Speaker, will the Prime Minister do such-and-such, or will he do such-and-such?" To which the PM replies, "Mr. Speaker, the Conservative members should remember this and that." And during all this, the MPs are shouting "No!" or "Hear, hear!" depending what they think of what's being said. They laugh loudly, boo loudly, insult each other (in the third person, since they don't speak directly), holler, and shout each other down, while the Speaker chastises them if they go on too long, all with the utmost of British structure and politeness.

It's brilliant.

Thanksgiving-Related Musings

HUUUUURRRRRRGGGGHHHH!

Oh. Oh, no. Guys, you're never going to believe this. Sandra Lee, who is on TV as I type, has sunk to an all-time low, from the depths of crapitude to the Level Three Nuclear-Attack-Proof Sub-Basement of Crapitude. She is making "Thanksgiving leftover empanadas." Out of pre-rolled pie crust, leftover mashed potatoes and leftover green bean casserole, seasoned with packaged taco seasoning. TACO SEASONING!

Here's my T-day menu:

Turkey. (um... duh...)
Dressing. I'm a plain bread dressing kind of gal. I like cornbread dressing (and Carrie's chicken and dressing), but the dressing of my childhood is just white bread, celery, onions, poultry seasoning, and broth.
Mashed potatoes. Simple. No herbs, no roasted garlic, just mashed potatoes, milk, butter, and cream cheese, my secret ingredient.
Homemade egg noodles.
Gravy. Gallons of it.
Rolls.
Cranberry sherbet. My mom's family recipe. It's light, tart, sweet, crystalline, refreshing... basically everything that the rest of T-day dinner is not.
Pumpkin pie
Pecan pie

Did you know that there are people who don't like Thanksgiving leftovers? Those people are NUTS. What, I ask you, is not to like about having a fridge full of the best dang food of the whole dang year that you can re-invent into all sorts of delectable treats? Turkey pot pie! Potato cakes! Turkey noodle soup! White turkey chili! Not to mention the sheer joy of cold turkey sandwiches and hot fried dressing. COME ON.

Mmmm... I can't wait until next Thursday...

Food Blogging!!

My friend Kristen came over for dinner tonight, and I made this gorgeous recipe from "A Twist of the Wrist," courtesy of Food and Wine's new website, but discovered (by me) on the lovely Claudia's food blog: Nancy Silverton's lamb meatballs with chickpeas and piquillo peppers.

The original recipe called for lamb, obviously, but being unable to buy good lamb for less than the price of raising a child through college, I opted for ground beef. The verdict? Two very enthusiastic thumbs up. Seriously, it was so flavorful and complex and delicious, and the textures of the chickpeas and the meatballs together -- mmmmmmm... A very big thank you to Claudia for providing the inspiration.

I did make a few subs and additions (duh) since I can't leave well enough alone. I used dry thyme instead of fresh, and added a big heaping tablespoon of lemon zest to the ground meat. I think I also added enough garlic to repel an army of vampires. But it's ok. No handsome men were present at tonight's meal, so we're all good. Actually, no men. At all. I'm not bitter.

A main course this delicious called for a simple but equally delicious dessert. I've been looking for a good way to use up the currants I bought to make hot cross buns, and came across a few recipes for barm brack or tea brack -- fruit-studded Irish sweet breads -- and they were the inspiration for what I eventually came up with: Spiced currant cake. With freshly whipped cream. And a little nutmeg on top. Seriously, somebody stop me before I take over the world with my awesomeness. Did I mention I made up this dadgum recipe?? Because I did.

Oh, you'd like to know how I made it? I thought you'd never ask.

1 stick unsalted butter
1 cup raw (turbinado) sugar
3 eggs
1 T. lemon juice
3/4 c. milk
1 T. lemon zest

2 cups flour
4 t. baking powder
1 scant t. nutmeg
1/2 t. salt

1 c. dried currants

Cream together butter and sugar until very fluffy. Add eggs and beat until frothy, scraping down sides of bowl frequently. Add milk, lemon juice, and lemon zest.

Sift together flour and baking powder and stir in nutmeg and salt. Toss currants in flour mixture. Add to wet ingredients and mix just until moistened, about 30 seconds.

Pour into an 8 x 8 baking pan and bake for 45-55 minutes in a 350 oven, or until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean but not dry. Serve with freshly whipped cream and garnish with a sprinkling of nutmeg. Devour. Repeat.

Aren't you glad we don't have to graze like cattle? I sure am. Yay food!

HAPPY REFORMATION DAY!

This is the third year I've posted this tune on my blog. Enjoy! Sing Along!

The Reformation Polka

by Robert Gebel

[Sung to the tune of "Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious"]

When I was just ein junger Mann I studied canon law
While Erfurt was a challenge, it was just to please my Pa.
Then came the storm, the lightning struck, I called upon Saint Anne,
I shaved my head, I took my vows, an Augustinian!
Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

When Tetzel came near Wittenberg, St. Peter's profits soared,
I wrote a little notice for the All Saints' Bull'tin board:
"You cannot purchase merits, for we're justified by grace!
Here's 95 more reasons, Brother Tetzel, in your face!"
Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

They loved my tracts, adored my wit, all were exempleror;
The Pope, however, hauled me up before the Emperor.
"Are these your books? Do you recant?" King Charles did demand,
"I will not change my Diet, Sir, God help me here I stand!"
Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Duke Frederick took the Wise approach, responding to my words,
By knighting "George" as hostage in the Kingdom of the Birds.
Use Brother Martin's model if the languages you seek,
Stay locked inside a castle with your Hebrew and your Greek!
Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Let's raise our steins and Concord Books while gathered in this place,
And spread the word that 'catholic' is spelled with lower case;
The Word remains unfettered when the Spirit gets his chance,
So come on, Katy, drop your lute, and join us in our dance!
Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Oversaved

I saw a funny YouTube video by a Christian comedian about people who are "oversaved" -- folks you can't even have a normal conversation with without them spouting some pious-sounding platitude. (Example from the video: "It's hot out here, man. You thirsty?" "Yeah, thirsty for the LORD!!")

It got me thinking of a Jeff Foxworthy-esque "You might be oversaved..." kind of thing, which reminded me of Purgatorio's old "Help! I'm Going Hyper!" post, which was totally priceless and which STILL makes me laugh after nearly three years. Probably more now than when I first read it, since I now get all the references that I missed when I first read it as a Seminary virgin and raging Arminian. Sample:

23. You’re looking under your big kid’s bed and find

and you are way more upset then the time you found

If you've never seen it... well, what's the matter with you?

Ah, Douglas Wilson, how do I love thee?

Douglas Wilson, for those of you unfortunate enough to be unfamiliar with him, is a great man. Not just as in a "great guy" but as in a Great Man. With capitals. Listing all of his many accomplishments here would be too much for my lazy brain and those of my lazy (and sparse) readership, undoubtedly. Highlights, in my opinion, are his work promoting classical education, his annihilation of oft-fawned-over atheist Chris Hitchens in a series of debates in Christianity Today, and now, his increasingly sharp and merciless satirical novel, Evangellyfish, the tagline of which ought to be, "Hahaha... Ouch."

Here's a brief excerpt from Chapter 1. Read the rest, as they say, at your own risk.

[Pastor Mitchell] surprised, and was in turn surprised by, Chad Lester, who was there with Cherie trying to . . . well, it was not at all clear now what he had been trying to do. But Mitchell had thought at the time he knew what Lester was trying to do. Words had been exchanged, including some bits of high volume exegesis and penetrating theological insight. Chad had stumbled on his way to the door, lurching into Mitchell, and Mitchell had taken that opportunity to unload a punch which connected with a less than perfect tenderness. But as punches go, analyzed merely in the interests of dispassionate science and apart from any ethical considerations, it had been exquisite.

Now. Boys and girls, that is what we call vivid writing -- vivid to the point of being actually painful.

Things I love and things I love not so much.

Things I love not so much right now:

People thinking their wedding is the perfect excuse to be the selfish brats they've always dreamt of being but were afraid to try. I'm going to write a book about this someday, I swear, and one of the chapters is going to be called, "Your Wedding Day: Celebration, not Extortion."

Allergies. How can my nose be stuffy AND runny at the same time? Hmm?

Having to move at the end of the month. Do you think that if I just pretend it's not really happening, my stuff will all just miraculously box itself up and find its way to the condo I'm hoping to buy? Hey! That'd make the house-hunting process a lot quicker! I'd just have to call around to the folks who own the places I'm looking at and ask if a whole truckload of stuff just materialized in their living room!

Things I love right now (so as to end the post on a more cheerful note):

The Dick Van Dyke Show. I actually love this all the time -- it's a truly one-of-a-kind show. A sitcom that portrays the American family as it might have been, if only: a smart, clever, successful husband with a loving, supportive wife, an unfailingly hilarious premise (comedy writer whose life is often funner than his job), and some of the best supporting characters ever to softshoe, sing, and hurl oneliners in the background make it my absolute favorite. The first two seasons are available at hulu.com for free streaming. Best Episodes: the "Walnuts" one, Richard "Rosebud" Petrie, the haunted cabin episode, and anything with a flashback to Rob and Laura's Army/USO days.

Having a job (see also: Classical education).

Michael Phelps. I know, I know... not very original. But have YOU ever found yourself spellbound by a swimming competition before? That's what I thought.

Tomatoes. For reeeeeeal. This week I've had an organic Brandywine and an organic Cherokee Purple from my friends Justin and Stacey's garden (both of which were delectable, but let's be honest. It's Justin's garden.), as well as a beautiful and exceptionally delicious tomato of some faintly heirloomish variety that I sliced, salted, and ate alongside a few tiny nubs of fresh mozzarella. For supper.

My Epic Tassie Weekend, Part the Second

Thousands of unemployed men built the road to the top of Mt. Wellington during the hard financial times of the 1930s:


...so that travelers could drive to the top and see this view:


I was one of those travelers. See?


More panorama:


I'm cold. Or possibly incognito. Can you tell?


Even more panorama. That's Hobart down there. Pretty cool, right?
Seriously, though... God made this beauty so we would worship him. Get to it!

My Epic Tassie Weekend, Part the First

Saturday afternoon, Woodbridge, Tasmania:

Saturday evening, aboard the Peppermint Bay II, Derwent River, Tasmania:
Saturday Evening, aboard the Peppermint Bay II, Somewhere in the ocean near Hobart:
Saturday evening, Mt Wellington and surrounds, from Hobart Harbor:
And I was really there! Here's proof!

#201

So... unrelated to poetry, unless you count word economy, cleverness, and snark as poetry, is this: six-word reviews of all 763 South by Southwest bands. A few examples:

Citay: Open wide for this, NPR listener!

El Jesus De Magico: I have just become an agnostic.

Freshkills: They took on songwriting... and lost.

Iota: Grrrg glb alg grrnk fffbf jfffddd.

Lindsay Jane: Let's go cry in my dorm.

HA!

The Big Time

Folks, Davidson is such a great team that they made last night's game (against apparently overrated #3 seed Wisconsin) look boring. Although I did see Stephen Curry miss two three-pointers in a row -- one very badly -- before sinking the next few with his signature panache. He's the kind of player who makes me think I could grab a basketball and land gorgeous, high-arcing 25-footers with no trouble at all.

One thing I've noticed during this year's tournament -- it's really amazing how little of a game you have to watch in order to figure out how well matched the teams are. Defensive aggressiveness and offensive rebounds are the two things I tend to pick up in the first few possessions I see (wow, that's a lot of double letters). For instance, toward the end of last Sunday's Western conference quarterfinal between Western Kentucky and San Diego, Western set up a series of defensive traps that basically shut down the USD offense; they did the same against Drake last week and attempted it, unsuccessfully, alas, against UCLA. You would only have to watch 5 or 10 minutes to see if the strategy was effective against the other team's skill.

Now all this isn't to say that I can watch the first ten minutes of a game and know beyond a shadow of a doubt who will win. Roundball is a capricious mistress, people. Anybody who's ever smacked his forehead in disbelief at an uncalled mugging or volunteered to lend his glasses to a clearly visually impaired ref can attest to the fact that games are won with 90% sweat and 10% luck.

Besides, when the games are as exciting as tomorrow's Elite Eight matchup between Davidson and the #1 seed Kansas, why watch five minutes when you can watch the whole thing?

Davidson

Davidson College, Davidson, North Carolina. #10 seed in the Midwest Region. Their star player, Stephen Curry, son of former NBA player Dell Curry, has the kind of stats college recruiters break delinquency laws over -- and yet he's playing for some obscure liberal arts school nobody'd heard of until they buried #7 Gonzaga, then #2 Georgetown in their run up to the Sweet Sixteen.

Even my mom, whose bracket is now useful only as a coloring page for my niece, has got to give these guys props. They're a smooth-playing fundamentals team with some flash, courtesy of Curry, whose outside shots are so perfect as to verge on poetic. The kid looks like he had his first shave Sunday afternoon, but with the ball in his hands, the commentators call him a "ruthless assassin." Despite his youth, he's almost unflusterable, and has a good time on the court to boot -- he's incredibly fun to watch.

AP Photo/Chuck Burton

Oh, AND, Davidson's board of trustees did the student body a huge solid, shelling out ticket money, bus fare, and a hotel room for any student who wants to make the trip to Detroit for Friday's game against #3 Wisconsin. Killer.

Root for 'em! They're the best bet for anybody who loves to cheer for the underdog.

In Other News...

I love March Madness.

That's all.