This just in... (updated with photos of Rte. 8!!)

The seventh Harry Potter book will be entitled Harry Potter and the Deathly Gallows.

The Pens are off the market and Lemieux is considering taking the Pens away from the Burgh (say it isn't so!)

Four lanes for Christmas--I think so! The Mae West Bend at Rte. 8 is almost done--I'll post pix when I get home tonight.

Look, there are cars on the South and Northbound lanes! (I'm northbound.)

Look at the rest of the Norhtbound lane, being readied for two lanes in one direction...

The lack of machinery and construction men--it makes my heart go pit a pat...

Look!! Road that will be part of two lanes in the SAME direction!!

Yes, my geek flag is flying high tonight. But hey, when it's the road you travel to work 90% of the time, it makes a HUGE difference!!

Oh, and I was stopped in traffic--I did not take pictures whilst in a MOVING car. Since we're still one lane each way, I was able to take four pictures whilst we were STOPPED.

Back to your regularly scheduled lives...

Holiday entertaining--the slow week, (note to self)

No pity party here, but next time I think of having an Open Door get-together the week in between the holidays, remind me that EVERYONE WILL BE OUT OF TOWN!

Alas, at least with an evite, folks can say they might be interested in getting together once they get back.

As you were...

Fa la la la la la la la

Yes, SL is going bonkers. It is quiet here at the library and I'm going bonkers. I haven't been feeling the Christmas thing so much this year and I want to be in the thick of things at Fox Books, helping grandmothers get boxed sets of Harry Potter for their grandchildren...

I did help a lady get some audio books for her daughter, but it is QUIET HERE. I want Christmas music, I want hustle and bustle, I know I am crazy!!

I scored two VHS tapes at the library store this morning: In Love and War (Sandra Bullock plays the nurse Hemingway falls in love with during WWI) and Up Close and Personal (Michelle Pfieffer is a broadcast journalist, also stars Robert Redford.) I also got a fun book for Sis and me to giggle over when I go home--How to be Well Dressed by Joan O'Sullivan. It's from 1963. (I had to use the Roman Numeral Converter to figure out the date...)

How to be well dressed features advice such as: "An umbrella is an umbrella is an umbrella...color is all-important....Pink and most shades of red are beautifying, too, for they make your face reflect their rosy glow." (Their favored color for umbrellas: white.)

Happy Birthday #3!!

Today is also my brother's birthday. He's 24. He's home for Christmas, yay!

O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum...the Christmas song meme

From Days Go By...

1. I wonder as I wander: this breaks my heart every time I hear it.

I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

It's featured in Jacob Have I loved, which is the book from whence Sara Louise comes. (Yes, I added the h at the end of Sara, to differentiate us.)

2. Do You Hear What I hear?: I love all the parts of this one, how it goes from the night wind all the way through the ranks to the king.

3. Silver Bells (I'm a city girl, through and through...you knew that!) Plus, it's on the Bing Crosby White Christmas album, which is heavily played in the Louise household.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks.
Dressed in holiday style
In the air
There's a feeling of Christmas

4. A la nanita nana (who knew the Cheetah girls did this?) from a Columbian Christmas album--this song is hardwired into my brain and it's not Christmas if I don't hear it at least once.

5. Pacabel Canon (which isn't really a Christmas song, but at Fox Books it was always on the Christmas music cds that we played over and over and over.)

And one that I haven't heard this year, that is sort of a wild card, not a favorite, per se, but it makes me laugh:

Dominick the Donkey. Apparently not many folks know this one but in da Burgh, it gets a lot of airplay. I just haven't been listening to the all Christmas all the time stations so much this year. It's about Santa's Italian helper.

Others I like: Grandma Got Run over by a reindeer, Trees on Fire (a parody on Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire), and the entire Chieftains Bells of Dublin album.

Too many to name.

Oh, and It came upon the midnight clear is a really nice one to sing corporately at church, which we did last Sunday (can you tell I'm into the whole ragamuffin thing?)

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

This just in: Blackbird has handed me the keys to do Show and Tell! (it was my bloggy Christmas wish.) So we'll start up with the New Year, and it will be on Thursdays. Send me your ideas via email.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Signs of the Times...

The Riverside Tastee-Freez isn't Tastee-Freez anymore, so it's just Riverside, and their sign thing is empty because they're closed for the season.

I thought it was Experienced Smiles, as I sat at the light at Craig and Bayard. Hmm, is that like a polite way to say Geriatric Dentistry? No, as I went through the intersection, I saw that it's Exceptional Smiles. Well, that makes more sense. It's where the old Dental School office used to be.

Pittsburgh Veterinary Dermatology--is that like if your cat gets eczema?

I was behind a car whose license plate read GFT--which of course made me think of who else I have to remember...I spent 15 min too long at Target before work...

At Target, I couldn't resist this card--I may give it to Sis: I want romance. Other cards were miss you or stud.

Oh, and did you know that KFC is returning to their roots? Kentucky Fried Chicken, yes ma'am!

I thought there was one more, but it's escaping me...

I remembered!! It's a automotive place on the way to work. "Under New Management...open DAILY." But what I see as I drive past is Under New Management DAILY. Gosh, that must be hard on the staff...

So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep (Genesis 2:21, NIV)

Sleep is this bizarre thing. We need it. So, some random thoughts...

From one of my favorite films: "Peter once asked me when I fell in love with Jack. And I told him, "It was while you were sleeping." (Lucy's last words as the movie fades out.)

Having my deep slumber Monday night to Tuesday morning, and waking up not knowing what day it was, made me think about sleep. And dreams.

Wee Willie Winkie, runs through the town!
Upstairs, downstairs, in his nightgown.
Rapping at the windows, crying through the locks
Are all the children in their beds, for now it is eight o'clock! (Traditional Nursery Rhyme)
...

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

(Someone embroidered this for me as a child and it hung in my bedroom.) Though now it reminds me of the Metallica song, Enter Sandman.

I think in some ways, sleep is like prayer. We need it to thrive, but we resist it. We come up with everything to do--get a drink of water, read a book, watch TV--but at some point our bodies fall in exhaustion. I often have trouble getting to sleep and I often have trouble starting to pray. I pray best when walking but as of yet I don't think I sleep walk. (My brother does sometimes though!!)

Of course, one of my favorite Psalms talks about sleep:

In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves. (Psalm 127:2, NIV)


And on a totally different note, here are a few links about giftgiving: (for tis the season)

• Adrian's thoughts on gift cards with a bonus link to Colin's philosophies...
• Erin talks about being kind to ourselves and mentions community gifts
• Pat mention's Carlos' book (which I linked back on Online Shopping Day)

and a few folks I support...

• Shoulder to Shoulder, which offers health care needs in rural parts of Honduras
• Heifer International, which provides animals to families around the world. I always ask for a flock of chicks.

And hey, if you can't think of ANYTHING, why not I heart PGH paraphenelia?

Moo! Moo! Moo!

Here's an interesting tidbit, for you children's book lovers (I have to throw a crumb out every once in a while or I'll lose you, I fear...): on the cart of books I'm marking call letters for "J PIC PAL" or "J PIC FLE" I have two books about cows that have lost their moo. I seem to remember a book from my childhood, Emily's Moo?

Moo Who? is by Margie Palatini (Yes, that would be J PIC PAL) and a cow who goes hither and yon to get her moo back. It's cute.

The Cow Who Clucked is by Denise Fleming (J PIC FLE--you catch on quickly!) about a cow who clucks.

I guess in this same category would be Bark, George, which features a dog who mews, moos, and clucks, only to discover that he has all those animals stuck in his stomach...

Anyways, I never really thought of this as a bovine malfunction: maybe Oprah should do a segment on Cows that have lost their moos...

Back to work!

Til Tuesday

Why are there so many songs about Monday and not the other days of the week (well, except Friday?)

I came home last night at 6, ate, and slept clear through to 5 am. WOW. Then I went back to sleep until 8.

Sleep is good.

And that is all.

See, even I sometimes have quiet days (well, you see, I wrote a really long comment on Katy's blog...)

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow--for a good cause!

This is so amazing! Remember how you cut up paper snowflakes as a kid? Here you can do it online and it makes money for the Salvation Army! You don't even have to use scissors, so it's a good activity for the kids!

Thanks to Days Go By and Stay-at-Home-Mommy!

Jesus's letter about Christmas

Got this from Heidi who got it from...

Happy Merry Advent and Christmas and Hannukah and Kwanzaa...

Bite off every one of these fingers, one at a time!

(Joe Pesci in Home Alone, the first one)

Sarah Louise's Favorite Christmas movies:

Home Alone (I have the soundtrack, which is a wonderful Christmas album.)

While You Were Sleeping (when I got the DVD last year from the 'rents, and was gleeful, my sister said, you are such a girl! And your point is? It's a Cinderella story at Christmas...)

This is one of my favorite scenes, thanks to the lovely folks at imdb.com: (It's the scene where Lucy gives her wedding invite to her boss, Jerry)

Jerry: Whom are we marrying?
Lucy: [turns over invitation] Peter Callaghan.
Jerry: The coma guy? Are you insane?
Lucy: Yes, Jerry. I'm insane. I go to work and I sit in a box like a veal. I work every holiday, I go home to a cat and now a rich and handsome man has asked me to marry him and I've said yes. OK. That makes me a total raving lunatic.
Jerry: The wedding is tomorrow!
Lucy: I know it's tomorrow Jerry, but you know what? I even wish it were yesterday. Because that would mean that *today* I would be on my honeymoon, that I would *finally* have a stamp in my passport, and that it would say *Italy* on it.

Love, Actually (my favorite scene is Hugh Grant dancing to Aretha Franklin...)

Almost Famous (yes, it's a Christmas movie--it starts off with the Chipmunks Christmas song, which is why I watched it before lunch.)

The Family Stone (last year's gem. I adore Sarah Jessica Parker. And I don't care what yins bloggers say, I like Luke Wilson, too.)

This year I want to see Unaccompanied Minors and of course, Charlotte's Web.

I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now.

Put up the brightest string of lights I've ever seen.
Slice up the fruitcake;
It's time we hung some tinsel on that evergreen bough.
For I've grown a little leaner,
Grown a little colder,
Grown a little sadder,
Grown a little older... (Mame)

It's slow season for routine. Everything gets put on hold from now until the New Year. Which means I go a little bonkers. Which means I have a cold. Don't worry, I'm taking my zinc and the day off work. I'll eat my minestrone soup and nap the afternoon away. Right now I'm listening to my favorite Christmas album, The Chieftains and the Bells of Dublin. Well, I guess it ranks #2 to Bing Crosby's White Christmas, but I don't have a copy of that album. The year my mom was in the hospital on bed rest my dad and I listened to Bing Crosby straight thru to Valentine's Day. My mom on the phone today said I seem to key in on all the people that died around this time of year. Well, a lot of people did! If a sister and an aunt died one day apart in June, would I be morbid to key in on that? If you spent Christmas with your dad and your mom spent it in the hospital and you never met that brother, wouldn't you remember it?

My dad's sister died today, six or seven years ago. I remember it because I was the first one in our family to know. I answered the phone and I could tell by his cracking voice what happened--but I gave my uncle my dad's number at work and five minutes later my dad called me back to tell me what I'd already figured out. A lot of people have lost family this time of year. They lose family all year round. I know if my sister/aunt/mother/father/uncle died, I'd want people to remember. Maybe it's that one bit of Catholicism that has stayed with me.

This is from Big Cherry Holler, which I read this morning in Tazza:

"I used to bring the kids here on holidays. We came on Memorial Day, my mother's birthday, and every Christmas. When we visited the cemetary, I would tell the kids stories about their grandmothers. Jack always thought it was creepy, that I liked the cemetary and found comfort there. I tried to explain that this was part of my Catholic faith and my Italian heritage; our gravesites are as important to us as our living rooms. In Jack's Scotch-Irish tradition, a cemetary is a place you visit on the day of burial, and hopefully, not often after that. So when I came here, I came with the kids or alone, sometimes just to sit and talk to my mother." (p. 111-2)

I finished Baby last night before the graduation party.

I did a google search and found this site (HAND: Helping After Neonatal Death). Here's a quote:

"Attending the funeral or memorial service just as you would for an adult acknowledges the significance of the family's loss, as does sending a sympathy card or writing a note or poem expressing your personal feelings...

All of these things will be appreciated on the anniversary of the due date, birth date or death date just as much if not more than immediately after the baby's death. You can be assured that the grieving family will never forget, and if you love them, you cannot afford to forget either. Remember, your attempts to help will meet with the most success if you avoid making judgments and remain tolerant of all behavior (except that which is self-destructive or suicidal) no matter how strange it may seem to you." (emphasis mine.)

So anyways, Happy Advent. I'm working through my grief, because I never did before. You can't microwave these emotions. I'm not going to.

If I take the wings of the morning...(Psalm 139:9)

Psalm 139 is the Psalm that got me through my senior year of high school. It is the Psalm that ushered me into the women's Bible studies at Bellefield. It is almost singlehandedly the Psalm that I can trace my beginning longings for a relationship with God.

I have no idea when I discovered the verses that follow:

If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there thy hand shall lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. (Psalm 139:9-10, KJV)

It was sometime my senior year. I was seventeen. I was skipping class, I was in a twisted relationship (my first boyfriend) with a guy who I later learned was "seeing" five women including me. I was your rebellious teenager. I felt like it was my last hurrah--my last year under the yoke of my parents. I thought my parents were old fashioned and irrelevant. My dad was studying Polish, translating newspapers in the evenings, and so, I the economist's daughter, got a D in Economics. My mom was constantly telling me how important it was to marry a Christian, so I was illicitly talking into the wee hours of the night with a guy who said he believed in God. I imagined that in twenty years, he'd be marriage material. Mr. Morning, where are you today?

Every time I visited a friend's house and they had a Bible, I'd flip to Psalm 139:9-10. Those two verses had enough poetry to carry me through the pain and confusion, through the lies and the deception. I loved reading the verses in different translations. I now own a Jerusalem Bible, at least one King James Version, Dios Habla Hoy (Spanish), at least two NIV translations, and the falling apart red letter Bible that I got when I was confirmed in seventh grade at Northwood Presbyterian Church. It is a Revised Standard Version and as it is the Bible I read the most often, and because it has more poetry than the NIV, it is my favorite. It is currently hiding in my garret. Books will do that when you live in a place long enough.

There's a hymn that has a line, "wherever man can go, thou shalt be there too." I remember that verse and it comforted me. It also led me to Psalm 139:9-10.

I wish I could say I came easily to faith. I did not. I came easily to church. Bellefield was down the street from Carlow College, and I figured, why not? I kept going and eventually got involved in a Bible Study with two other women. We studied the names of God, from the Old Testament. It was poetry. I wanted to be like these women, who were in their thirties and wrestling with the concept of being a Godly single woman. So I stopped doing some things. I stopped calling Mr. Morning. I wrote him a "Dear John" letter with a dinosaur stamp. (I thought it was poetic, you know, dinosaurs are extinct?) By the beginning of the second semester of my freshman year of college, I professed faith. What was it that got me over the edge? The last study in our book on God's names asked if I knew where I'd spend eternity. I realized I didn't know, and I wanted to. I walked to Bellefield the next day, hoping to find the campus minister I really liked, but she wasn't there. I'd heard about discipleship and I thought it sounded like a good idea. Instead, I met with the other woman campus minister and she told me about justification and sanctification. We met a few other times, but I never felt like I'd been "discipled."

I have felt that lack a lot. I'm the older brother in the story about the Prodigal Son. Wait a minute, I didn't get MY share! But God has provided for me in other ways.

I spend a lot of time alone. I take walks. I read books. I drive to work. In these places, God meets me if not daily, every couple of days. Where I have not had the companionship of people discipling me, I have had the words of Kathleen Norris, Anne Lamott, Madeleine L'Engle, Brennan Manning, John Eldredge. I have experienced the words of the Bible as a double edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and a discerner of the thoughts and intentions of my heart (Hebrews 4:12).

***************

I look forward to being someone's wife, someone's fiancée, someone's girlfriend. I know it will not end my loneliness, or my solitary life, but it will be a sharing of at least a bed, a bank account perhaps, and a future. I expect it will require more of me than has ever been required of me in a relationship with another human.

At the last Christmas party, I witnessed folks younger than I in every stage of young adulthood: early dating, late dating, engagement (rings) and wedding dates, married for a year, married for two years, pregnant. I felt out of place--where do I fit in this picture?

Don't get me wrong--I don't wish my life had turned out otherwise--I have a great life. But I haven't met someone yet who makes me laugh, who makes me want to care for the rest of my life. Even though I know I want the whole package and maybe a house with a picket fence, I am scared shitless, too. I wonder...

Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me...

Even there.

Lead me on, LORD. I will follow you. In your beautiful timing, and not a moment before. Teach me patience and prescence and take my hand.

Joy Cherene Louise, d. Dec. 16, 1975

Thank you to all the women who have shared their stories as I've wrestled these past days with the short life of my baby sister, who lived for 8 days, thirty one years ago. There are things we just will never understand, but we can still live through and past and beyond them. Rest in peace, my little darling. I can't wait to meet you on the other side of heaven.

Love-30, or Tennis Courts I have known...

Webster's Dictionary: Love (Tennis) a score of zero.
Wikipedia article on tennis scoring.

We're experiencing warm weather here in the Burgh. Well, colder today--36 degrees Fahrenheit. But mostly, it's been in the 40s and 50s. I've been wearing my pink fleece jacket instead of what I normally wear in December--my brown Russian coat.

I'm grateful for the warm weather. They've been finishing up the Mae West Bend on Rte. 8, and the nice weather makes it easier for them to finish--before Christmas??? All I want for Christmas is four lanes of highway?

On my birthday, in late November, I went for a walk. Not so unusual, as I try to go for one every day. But it was coldish on my birthday, and yet, in the middle tennis court, two men were playing tennis. I don't claim to read two men playing tennis on my birthday as a sign from God that..x y and z, but it was hopeful. For a good (or bad) year, I walked daily to and from the Seminary on my morning walk. Their tennis court is abandoned. It became a metaphor in my mind, the abandoned tennis court. So imagine my surprise and delight when this morning two men were playing tennis in the middle courts again. It's not a sign of x y or z, but hopeful. That my neighborhood has people that play tennis, that care about the upkeep of the tennis courts, and the community gardens. That there are people walking their dogs.

When the sparrows flew away as I walked through the grass where they had been resting, I thought of the sparrow, and how not a one falls without God knowing about it. "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me; His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me." (Hymn)

And when I think of hope, I think of the lady poet from Amherst...

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

(Emily Dickinson)

Hang your shining star above the highest bough...

...and have yourself a merry little Christmas now...

Three Christmas parties down, one graduation party to go!

The final Christmas party was a dress-up dessert party. If you didn't dress up, there were decorations like garland or bells or Santa hats to wear. One girl made an oragami star and wore it in her hair. Very festive.

Today's luncheon party was wonderful. Yesterday's luncheon party was also wonderful, except that I lost my lunch pretty soon after it, and so I'll be going in to work every day until Friday to make up the lost time. (I was already behind time and this is the year's last pay period.)

I feel a little (actually a lot) geeky, blogging about a party I just left, when I know there are people still there making merriment. But I have to pace myself and I was starting to fade. It was good to see everybody, though. (The introvert confesses...)

Oh, and my dear brother sent me an email! This is very rare--so it must be celebrated with much fanfare. SHAZAAM, my brother sent me an email. Fanfare, fanfare!

Why did he email me, you ask? There's a new bike path between Northwest Maryland and Pittsburgh and today's Post-Gazette had an article. (It actually is the top of the top five emailed articles for today.) I emailed it to him and in his email to me, he wrote thusly:

haha awesome.

i'm planning my trip already.

thanks for bearing the good news.

A man of few words, my brother. He's the best.

I'm in denial about the other news in today's paper, about Balsillie retracting his bid for the Pens. I remember saying I was going to go to a hockey game this year, and yet, this year is almost over. Perhaps in the beginning of the new year.

Yes, I have hit a new geek all time high--talking about hockey on my blog when there are people playing games and dancing at the party I just left. Oh well, I'm off to read in bed. TTFN!

laughing all the way...Bells on Bobtail ring....

Well, that Days Go By chick did it again. I needed a morning laugh and she delivered...with pictures of hockey players. Well, go visit her and see.

Blogger's going bonkers

So, on any given day, the beta-bloggers and the non-beta bloggers can't comment on each other's blogs. Blogger Status doesn't have all the answers, but they are a good place to look for info. I've added them to the left, right below Favorite Shoes.

I'm not much of a cook, but my take-out skills are top-notch. (Kathy Shaksan)

So, contrary to popular belief, I do cook. So, a recipe. Bon apetit!

Sarah Louise's Strata (for the Children's Department Lunch)

Prep time: 30 minutes.
Sit time: 1 hr to 12 hrs.
Cook time: 45 minutes.

Ingredients:

Bread
6 Eggs
2 cups of milk. Whole is best, but I've used skim.
6 slices of cheese--your choice (I used American this time)
an onion, or a frozen vegetable of your choice (I used spinach this time, but often use broccoli)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
oregano
parsley flakes
sage
mustard or mustard powder
margarine

You want an 11x13 baking pan. Lay the bread in two layers. You want the bread to be "stale" which can be speeded up by putting the bread in the oven on warm for about 20 minutes.

Did you know that if you slam two eggs together only one will crack?

After you "stale" the bread, you want to take it out of the pan so that it can be slathered with margarine so that the strata doesn't stick when it's baked.

So mix the eggs and the milk and the spices.

Lay out the bread on the bottom of the pan. Layer the slices of cheese, then layer the vegetable. Cover with the second layer of bread. Pour on the egg mixture. If there is some bread that doesn't get moistened with egg, pour milk on top.

Cover the pan with foil and put in the fridge for at least an hour, up to 12 hours.

Bake for about 45 min at 325 degrees Fahrenheit. The look you want is "golden brown."

Cut, eat, enjoy. Serves about 6, depending on how big you make the pieces.

This recipe is a Sarah Louise version of "Crustless Quiche" in The Kitchen Survival Guide by Lora Brody.

The joy of the Lord is your strength (Nehemiah 8:10, TLB)

You chart the path ahead of me, and tell me where to stop and rest. (Psalm 139:3, TLB)

How well he understands us and knows what is best for us at all times. (Ephesians 1:8, TLB)

My senior year of college was the worst and the best. (Isn't that the beginning of a Charles Dicken's novel?) The verses I've just quoted you are from a page-a-day calendar I had that year. I have resisted getting a page-a-day Bible verse calendar ever since, because I liked this one so well--it had trivia questions at the bottom, like, "Q: Where eight people made a new start" (and then you turned it upside down to read, "Mount Ararat (Gen. 9:1)"

I didn't go for my walk. And now I'll have to rush around to get ready for my physical. I started to look for a book, Other Bells for Us to Ring, which is a sad story around Christmas time, which is what I feel like I'm living right now, as I remember Joy.

One of these nights I need to stop avoiding the pain and sit and read Patricia MacLachlan's Baby, which tells the story of a family that lost a baby and never talked about it. But I don't see a free night in the forseeable future, or a free lunch hour to sit and read...Sunday. I have nothing planned for Sunday.

Joy comes in the morning--I found that verse this morning, without looking for it. It's in the 30s of Psalms.

I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight. (Isaiah 45:2)

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. (Dame Julian of Norwich)

Go hug someone. Or send someone flowers. Or call them on the phone. Or just leave a comment. I am so not ready to face today or the next two. Can't we just leapfrog to Sunday?

Oh alright. I'll go get ready. I'm getting my hair trimmed Friday--can't we leapfrog to then?

So take a new grip with your tired hands, stand firm on your shaky legs, and mark out a straight path for your feet, so that those who follow you, though weak and lame, shall not fall and hurt themselves, but become strong. (Hebrews 12:12, TLB)

Everyone telling you be of good cheer...

Well, it's like this. You discover a new blog and you link it and you get a comment from its creator and then it wins the first laugh of the morning. (You gotta read the comments too, though...they're what set me off, truth be told.)

The movie was great. More on that later, if yins are good. Right now I'm going to ride off into the sunrise...I mean take my WALK!

Denial is just a river in Egypt...

Tonight I am staying in. Tonight I am watching a movie. I may not even call the 'rents. In the next 3 days I'll be attending 4 holiday/other parties:

Thurs: lunch with Tech Serv Dept at a Country Club
Fri: lunch (I'll be making my strata) at Waverly's with the Kid's Dept.
Fri eve: party at Kelly's
Sat eve: graduation party for Jay.

I never leave shopping this close to the end, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And this girl's gotta veg.

In the desert prepare the way for the LORD...

(Isaiah 40:3, NIV)

I had a plan...to use the rest of the imdb.com quotes from A Charlie Brown Christmas for titles until Christmas came. But a lot of the quotes are long, so I decided not. But they're pretty good anyways.

This morning I used my remote control (that's what it's for) to turn on my stereo and grabbed my Bible, which opened to Isaiah 40. The book of Isaiah is my favorite. It is what got me through my senior year of college. It is what has gotten me through a lot.

This is my favorite verse (of all time).

"A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3, NIV)

I so often feel like this--a bruised reed or a dimly burning wick (the RSV wording). It's basically saying the same thing as the New Testament verse, 1 Corinthians 10:13. But there's less poetry. I'm all about poetry, folks.

"No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he'll never let you be pushed past your limit; he'll always be there to help you come through it." (The Message)

But GUESS WHAT? (back to poetry--or rather photography.) This picture was featured in a post in October. I wrote that it mirrored my mood at the moment.

Well, yesterday was my first walk in AGES! And guess what? There's a new garage door! I could have danced the Snoopy happy dance! Plus I took more pictures too.

Isn't it purty? Shiny and new--it's like an early Christmas present!

This is me, holding a piece of ice from Lake Carnegie (yes, that's it's actual name, though it's really a pond) that is triangular in shape. I dragged out my Joy bracelet and am wearing it until December 16, as a memorial. I love ya, sis!

Doesn't this look like a picture postcard?

The triangular piece of ice, sans my hand. Check out the tiny feather (left side).


I set it free (it was stuck behind a rock). There were other triangular pieces--I wonder if that's a thing about ice, physically speaking.

I don't wanna work, another in a series...

So I'm alone in Tech Serv tonight. Ellie was here earlier, and she wasn't going to let me check DDC (Dewey Decimal) numbers if I still had videos to class and add.

I don't work well in Tech Serv by myself if I'm tired and not necessarily motivated. But I've added 8 videos or DVDs to the collection, and identified as many for lookup in OCLC.

I'm listening to Pandora, which is an Internet Radio Station (sort of). I've created a station that plays Brazilian samba, which I've called "The Girl from Ipanema." It's amazing how many versions there are of that one song and variations on other songs. But I love the soft jazziness and it's good background music. I don't really know any Portugeues, but it was my first language (we lived in Belem du Para at the mouth of the Amazon in Brazil until I was two.)

I'm re-reading Adriana Trigliani's Big Cherry Holler. It's wonderful, and good to be reading in times like these when the Sago families want answers not theories on why the mines killed their kin.

Well, back to work. I have about a half hour to get something accomplished or at least started...

Practicing in belief: 6 impossibles before breakfast

Woo hoo, I had an amazing walk. And I believed in at least six impossible things. Go forth and do likewise...

More laughter in the morning, woo hoo!

(or why Cameron got droves of people responding on Sunday...this morning in an email it was like a hit myself with the forehead moment. I was using the old model. Watch the You-tubes, you'll see.)



So, I visited Heidi's blog and watched the You Tube on Eve.Harmony, which is hysterical, and then visited Paul and watched a bunch of "I'm a Christian, and I'm a Christ Follower" which sort of plays on the Emergent/Traditional church...

Happy Tuesday, and enjoy.

(yes, she who laughs at the future and laughs at herself will never be without things to laugh about, I'm GOING FOR MY WALK!)

Take Joy! A Tasha Tudor Christmas evening among friends...

Tasha (yes, that's her name, she was named after Tasha Tudor, a family friend) invited the rest of the Technical Services Department over for dessert. It will be small, she said.

Understatement of the year.

It was beautiful. First, their tree is a blue spruce, not trimmed. With real candles on the tree. She lit them for us after everyone had arrived, and turned out all the lights. All her ornaments were either big balls that have pictures from Tasha Tudor greeting cards or wooden from Germany. She's been to Germany many times. She also has some Scandinavian ones, which I recognized as such. She even had one Polish one, a blue bird, painted exquisitely.

Our tree, the one at my parent's house, has Scandinavian, German, and all sorts of ornaments, so I felt right at home.

We sat around the dining room table--Tasha had ice cream that was formed in molds--mine was in the shape of grapes, Alice got a hen, Ellie had a rabbit, and so on. Alice didn't want to pour hot fudge on her hen, or eat it--I offered to trade but she didn't want to do that either. We sat around and shared stories for two hours! We laughed and laughed--it reminded me why we have holidays (besides the religious reasons, I mean), to share food and fellowship with friends and family.

I'm still the junior member--I don't have stories about children or grandchildren, so no one asked me if I'd decorated my house yet. But I did entertain them with stories like when my brother expected a toothbrush from Santa (we got one every year) and threw his old one out Christmas Eve. It was the one year Santa didn't give out toothbrushes...

So it's beginning to feel a bit like Christmas...did I mention my new favorite Christmas song, Trees on Fire? It's a parody of Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

(The post title refers to Tasha Tudor's Christmas book, a perennial favorite in the Louise household.)

Online Advent Calendars n'at... (with a little blah humbug squeezed in)

This one is cool--and fascinating, that it gives Protestant and Catholic readings. Thanks to PCUSA Blog.

This one doesn't seem clued in that today is Dec 11, but I like it anyways.

Last night I called Erin. We both agreed that we're just not feeling it this year. I hope you are.

I don't feel like doing the Christmas Meme, because to me, Christmas has always been about traveling, not tradition.

This year it's a little less crazy than it would have been. My brother is going to be in Virginia, so I'll drive down. We were possibly going to fly to Austin.

Here's the kind of conversation my mom and I have been having lately:

Me: So, did you talk to J?
Mom: Yes, we did. Did you?
Me: Yes, so, what are our plans?
Mom: You talked to him already--are you trying to figure out if I know what you know? He's coming up to Virginia pretty soon.
Me: Okay.

Can't fool her!

Take a deep breath. January will be here soon.

Oh, and for easy access to posts that allow you to either laugh, ponder, or take a deep breath, new feature on the left, "Favorite Shoes." I may rename it, but that's what came to me.

Where other people are obsessed with the idea that I am always reinventing myself, I'd rather think that I'm shedding my layers, and slowly revealing

myself. It feeels to me like I'm just getting closer to the core of who I really am. (Madonna)

Yesterday I was in a conversation with a woman after the budgeting class I've been attending and I said, I feel like I'm getting younger, as I deal with things. She asked me how old I thought she was. I, flabbergasted, said, I have no idea. The woman is fifty. I would have said 43 if pressed. She is gorgeous. And she's dating one of the nicest, most scatterbrained guys at Bellefield. He does roofs.

I feel like as I let go of Joy's death and Peter's death and as I let go of the sludge of my early dating life, I am becoming lighter. More Sarah Louise. The layers are coming off.

ooh ooh! Two literary allusions:

From the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when the boy becomes a dragon and then de-dragonified, and from The Ragman.

Hold the phone, lemme get my books.

From How the Adventure Ended, the de-dragonifying of Eustace:

"...and I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off?
...
...then the lion said...You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty near desperate now." (p. 89, C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)

From The Ragman, (one of my favorite short stories of all time)

"...I myself walked up to the Ragman. I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him. Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice: 'Dress me.'
He dressed me. My Lord he put new rags on me and I am a wonder beside him." (p. 6, Walter Wangerin, The Ragman and other Cries of Faith.)

I'd write about this and stuff, but it's time to get this morning going, and as usual, I have quite a day ahead.

Oh, and check out a new link on Church Shoes, Adrian, a friend of Pat's who I think lives in SanFran. He's got some pretty interesting stuff on there, and it's easier for me if it's a link on the left, so there you go.

Oh, and last night (or this morning) I dreamt I went to Chestertown.

According to most studies, people's number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. Death is number two.

"Does that sound right? This means to the average person, if you go to a funeral, you're better off in the casket than doing the eulogy.” (Jerry Seinfeld)

I do not fear public speaking. Communication is my thing. I write, I talk, I talk in front of people--hey, I was a Mary Kay consultant! I fear not being understood, not getting a response.

Welcome to my nightmare.

I'm trying to get something started for a Women's Ministry at the OD, because I NEED the companionship and fellowship, BADLY. So part of that is starting to get women excited about a Women's Gathering at Bellefield, our mother church (the OD is a church plant). So today I had a chance to get up and give an announcement and in the middle I felt so wooden, I was just reading from the paper and I think I just lost everyone or maybe no one else feels this need to have a women's ministry. My dear friend Cameron gave an announcement after me. He had no script, he was loose and hip and genuine and everyone flocked to him afterwards.

At the beginning of the service, I was fresh, I had just had a nap. "Wow, you look rested" more than one person said to me. After the service (after my humiliating moment up front and the non-response to it) someone said, "You look really tired." Ya think?

But later, as I did some retail therapy -- yes, tulips at Whole Foods along with the milk I did need -- I thought, it's about priming the pump. And it's not about me, it's about God's plan. So maybe if I was initially successful, I wouldn't remember, Oh, I'm not the one in control here, God is. It wasn't the words I said or didn't say. If all those women that said "oh how was your Mary Kay party, oh yeah, it would be nice to have some girl time" had come up to me and said, SIGN ME UP, DUDE! I might have forgotten who I'm in this for to begin with.

I think I threw them off when I started with this verse: "She is clothed with strength and dignity and she laughs at the time to come." (Proverbs 31:25, NIV)

Oh well. Tomorrow is another day. I think it's time to break out that last beer in the fridge.

Learning to be me...

A few things:

Like Chandler, I use humor to disfuse situations. You will rarely find me posting about something of deepness without a tidbit at the end that disfuses it.

(That long pause--you didn't notice it?--was me looking for a good Chandler quote. What good is the Internet for if not for quotes from the bestest TV show ever, Friends?)

Okay, here's one:

Rachel: Guess what, GUESS WHAT?
Chandler: The fifth dentist finally caved and now they ALL recommend Trident?

I got it from imdb.com, the librarian's answer to "who was in that movie with that girl from 90210?"

See, I'm doing it again.

Last year at Lent, I had a journal. In the front, I had a quote from Soren Kierkegaard, "And now, with God's help, I shall become myself." I have to interject here that I've still not read any of Kierkegaard's books, I'm still relying on random quotes. Same with Camus. Maybe that should be my New Year's Resolution: to read Kierkegaaard and Camus.

Oh, did I get off track again?

This is one of those "experiment in writing" posts.

And I haven't had breakfast yet...

Well, anyways, tune in tomorrow, when I gather my brain cells once more to bring you the loveliness of my bloggy mind.

Oh here's a tidbit. It wasn't last year at Lent, it was this year. Except that my mind is still tuned to the academic calendar. Oh boy. I need breakfast.

The girl who didn't live: Joy Cherene Louise, b. December 8, 1975

This post will probably only be up for a day as I'm not really sure I'm ready to share this, but I think I'll feel better when I do.

The day before yesterday was the 65th anniversary of Pearl Harbor. It was a Sunday, and though I am way too young to have remembered it, it resonates in me because I have listened to Moira Kelly describe that day through the eyes of Sara Louise Bradshaw (yes, my namesake) in Jacob Have I Loved, the audio version.

Yesterday, December 8, 2006, was my sister Joy's 31st birthday. Joy Cherene lived about 20 days, because thirty one years ago premies didn't live. Cherene is probably spelled wrong, but it's the word in Farsi (the language of the Persion people) for sweetness. My mom lived in Iran for three years before my folks got married. If you haven't heard that story, well, it's a good one. I'll save it for Valentine's Day, though.

When I was in ninth grade and all depressed (ninth grade sucks for everyone!) I went to a therapist, and all she wanted to talk about was Joy and Peter. Which at the time I figured wasn't that important. And at the time, it wasn't.

But last year, as my new therapist was trying to piece together my history, all of a sudden I needed to know. So one time when my dad was visiting, we sat in the café at Fox Books and I got all the dates from him. Joy was born in December. I think (I don't have that paper in a place readily available--euphemism for it's lost) that Peter was born in April. He died about 20 days later too. I was six or seven.

So yesterday, driving to Oakland, I thought, today is something, I have to know. So first I called my house and then my dad's cell phone. Later in the day he called me, to ask me about something but also to tell me that yes, it was Joy's birthday, and that he'd be arranging for flowers on her grave.

Her grave is in Poplar Lakes, NJ, where my mom grew up. It's the family grave site. My grandparents are there, my Aunt Margaret, my Uncle Klaus, and Joy and Peter. I guess depending on who I marry I'll be buried there too.

I talked to my mom briefly last night and she said, "Honey, I talked to Daddy about it and I think at this point it's more important to you than it is to us." She wasn't being cold, but it's true. My mom has gotten past the pain (I almost typed pasta--which makes me giggle in this very somber post.) The last time she and I talked about Joy and Peter, she said, yes, Joy died, but we had you. You were our joy. Yes, Peter died, but we had you. It is wonderful for me that my mother is past the pain, because for years she couldn't forgive God. But apparently the pain has been passed on to me. All of yesterday, I brought out my grief, as if it was something to hold in my hands, and examined it. Is it okay for me to grieve a sister I never knew? I have the bestest sister anyone could ask for. But Joy was a person, and one I never met, because thirty one years ago a four year old would not be allowed into the NicU.

Good grief, now I have to get ready for work. Here's a tidbit of a conversation with my chiropractor (yes, I'm now seeing the chiropractor three times a week, for the next six weeks.)

Dr. P: So how big is your staff?
Me: About 100 or so.
Dr. P: Wow, and you're in charge of all of them?
Me: (thinking, where did he get THAT idea) um, no.

I don't have a staff, I am the staff. Talking to your chiropractor whilst he is adjusting your back is a little better than talking to your dentist. At least you can answer intelligently because your mouth isn't full.

Friendship, like crime, is a simple matter of means, motive, and opportunity.

(Malcolm Gladwell, in the Foreword to Roger and Sally Horchow's book, The Art of Friendship.)

On my desk:

4 different years of Leisure Arts Presents The Spirit of Christmas. (I'm supposed to figure out if the 20th anniversary edition would be in fact, book 20.)


Brian Wildsmith's Mother Goose (did you know Little Bo Peep has 5 verses?) I'm supposed to change the barcode to a 13 digit barcode as it currently has an 8 digit barcode, which has not been used in this library for two years!!

To check out:

The Art of Friendship (see above)

Peace like a River by Leif Engler (audio, read by Chad Lowe.)

***********

Today is my tenth day in a row. I am so burned out--and Happy Feet was not the diversion I'd hoped (wait for my fortcoming review--do not go willy nilly to the theatre for this flick!)

But a few good things:

Sally R. (the one who used to live downstairs) gave me my birthday/Christmas gift: sugar cubes! Not just any sugar cubes, these have icing on them with pictures of purses, shoes, tea cups...I'll take a picture. I have always thought sugar cubes were so high class and have never purchased them--I squealed with delight.

I ran into Babs while she was running. (Well, I didn't literally run into her.) I backed up, and we talked through my open car door. It was so nice to see her!!

I went to Fox Books and saw an old co-worker, who also volunteers at my library on occasion.

And how could I forget my sumptious meal at Chili's? A friend waitresses there and I try to stop by when I can. I had the Quesadilla Explosion salad and it was the sort of food that made you say thanks the whole time you ate it, it was that good.

And (now it's 10:41 and I've done all sorts of fun things including driving home, looking for black ice all the way. I only skidded a little on the entry to the tunnel that takes you onto the Bloomfield Bridge.) I just added a new blog to the right, Days Go By. (Yes, it's a Talking Heads reference!!!)

Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find, Charlie Brown, maybe painted pink. (UPDATED!!)

(Lucy Van Pelt, in A Charlie Brown Christmas)

So, I've been stressed, I've been stretched. I am to the point of snarkiness. But look, it's snowing outside! And I don't have to be anywhere for...twenty minutes! So, for you, (and for me, because after all, it's ALL ABOUT ME) some Christmas/snow pictures. Enjoy. It's really coming down out there... I brought the tree up from the basement, put on Erasure (yes, they talk about snow and being cold and staying inside on there) and decorated.

It made me feel better, it did. Oh, look, it's really snowing, I just took a few more pictures!!

My skylight, blanketed with snow.

The view outside my window--my car, blanketed with snow.

The view outside my bathroom window--other roofs, blanketed with snow.

It's time to say goodbye to birthday flowers and the pincushion plant...

Mistletoe, need I say more?

Oh look, it's a Duralite tree! With ornaments and stuff! Can you find the nativity scene?

Here it is, close up. I have other pieces (a Baby Jesus, a Shepherd and a sheep) but they are huge compared to these pieces...

Shards of shells from South Carolina. Can you find the heart shaped shell?

The bird on the top of the tree.

What's a Christmas scene without a lit candle? (Yes, those are birthday cards--I don't have any Christmas ones yet, so deal with it!

These are actually from the lobby of the theatre at the Children's Museum on the North Side, but don't they look festive?

Snow on the Creasy's car, from the retreat.

A closeup of the tree at the South Side Works.

My aunt's tiny tree in South Carolina.

Snow on my car, a picture from a few days ago.

I thought there were some more pictures...I'll track them down later...

Oh, and drive safely! I did some slip sliding down a hill on the way to work and EVERYONE on Rt 8 was driving below the speed limit (and no one was complaining!). It's like a bad joke, How do you get Pittsburghers to drive the speed limit? Drop an inch of snow.

...I wanna be a Toys R Us Kid

(the first part of that song being: I don't wanna grow up...)

Just got off the phone with Kelly who bless her heart told me to give myself grace. Both of us traveled at Thanksgiving and will be traveling at Christmas and right now she's doing most of the parenting as her DH finishes up his Ph.D. work.

It was such a breath of fresh air, to have someone tell me to give myself grace, to slow down, to take it one day at a time. Because frankly, right now, I am so overwhelmed I could cry (actually, I did, on the phone with Kelly, which totally surprised me--I didn't realize how exhausted and overwhelmed I was.)

So take heart, dear Internets. He comes with healing in his wings, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.

Off to the allergist!!

A tribute to Hey Ya, Charlie Brown

It was getting embarrassing, the amounts of times I was visiting Urban Saddle to watch this U-tube, so I went and got my own account, so here it is:



The resolution is not as good as the one on US. I don't have the energy to go back to U-tube and see why that is...I love this video because I love the Peanuts characters. They are so human. I mean, don't we all have Charlie Brown days? And when Snoopy licks Lucy...classic! I like watching the kids dance and Linus and Sally stepping in tempo time (can you imagine having to do the animation--folks, this was before computers did all that!)

And I like this Outkast song--so you put the two together and it's like peanut butter and chocolate!!

Another interesting thing--I have to write this in the HTML mode on Blogger b/c otherwise the "Compose" mode eats up part of the HTML and the U-tube doesn't post.

I realize I haven't started writing about Christmas--all the cool kids are doing Christmas memes n'at. I just don't feel Christmasy yet--maybe tomorrow I'll bring up my tree (a tiny artificial table top tree that belonged to my grandma.)

But note that I changed the header to "a rum pa pum pum" (from "The little drummer boy.")

You can dance, go and carry on, till the night is gone...

...but don't forget who's taking you home
so, darlin' save the last dance for me. (Ben E. King)

This will be played at my wedding. No, you haven't missed a news flash, but I do have a few things planned because I know it will be a great day, someday.

A few days ago I spoke about dancing and how I don't like dancing with strangers. I've been to swing nights where I loved the music and I danced with men twice my age who wanted to talk while dancing and I just didn't want to. I understand intimacy, and it's hard for me to give that away. I know myself to be very vulnerable in male/female situations because I've been hurt, badly. But I have also healed, and I want the prize, so I keep putting myself out there.

It's interesting for me, because this blog venture allows me to read your lives too: which of you love your husbands, which of you would shove them under a bus, which of you tolerate the man. So I know that sometimes I must seem like the most naive of the bunch, a dew eyed teenager with puppy love. (Although if I have puppy love, you'll probably not know 'til it's a little more established because I have a pretty wide readership and some things just have to coalesce in private.)

I have accepted fear as a part of life--specifically the fear of change. I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back. (Erica Jong.)

Writer's note: I wrote this about a week ago and this morning I thought I'd have to edit and stuff, but it pretty much stands alone.

Oh, and Happy St. Nicholas Day! Did you get charcoal or oranges in your shoes this morning?

Some books I happen to be cataloguing...

This one is twisted, but FUNNY!!: The Rejection Collection: Cartoons you never saw, and never will see, in The New Yorker. Don't say I didn't warn you, but you will laugh out loud and say, oh, that is just SO wrong. From the jacket flap, "Too risqué, silly, or weird for The New Yorker, the cartoons in this book offer something no other collection has: They have never been seen in print until now." Bonus features: a handwritten questionaire filled out by each of the cartoonists. DDC: 741.56973 (Caricatures--United States)

Weird and Wonderful Words. On the cover (illustrated by Roz Chast, one of my favorites) are illustrated the words Hodmandod, Pollictor, Gammerstang, Mammothrept and Batie-Bummil.
Inside you'll find definitions to such words as iconomach, "a rare word meaning 'one who is hostile to images.'" DDC: 423.10207 (Speller-dividers--English language, . . ./Humorous Treatment)

Robbing the Bees: A Biography of Honey, the sweet liquid gold that seduced the world. From the back cover, "Honey has been waiting almost ten million year for a good biography." DDC: 638.16 (Honey processing)

Just in time for Christmas or any other gift-giving holiday: Gifted: 1,000 gift ideas for everyone in your life. Chapters are broken out into types of giftees: The Gadget Geek, The Princess, The Mommy-any-Minute. There's even a chapter of Get Well Gifts (I had to see what The Laid up and Lonely was.) Some suggestions, should you have to come up with a last minute feel better friend gift:

• Comfortable Pajamas
• Books on Tape
• Bright Silk Pillowcases

(Yes, each gift has its own website listed, and a nifty system of letting you know how expensive the gift is: one box with a ribbon is up to $25, five boxes is over $500.) DDC: 394 (General customs)

Yes, this is the glam life of the Technical Services Librarian. New books, I love them so! They even smell wonderful.

********

This just in: Pittsburgh has a new neighborhood, Eastside. Yes, it's not quite geographically Shadyside, but they don't want to call it East Liberty (too ghetto?) so retailers (and some residents) have taken on the name of the development company as the geographic label for the area where we now have a Whole Foods, Walgreens, Starbucks, and YES YES YES, a new Borders. The Grand Opening is this weekend, click on the link for the schedule. I have never seen Joe Grushecky in person, so I might have to wander over...I adore acoustic live music...

Wake up, sleepyhead...

Guess who woke up at 8:15?? Me! And the first laugh of the morning goes to the folks at the Today show. Gosh I like them...

Oh, they're interviewing Burt Bacharach now, gotta go!

But not before I mention that the interview occured at our own Heinz Hall, as he played here back on November 12.

Geography Lesson: How to be a rebellious Pittsburgher (plus books!)

Let's see.

Today I left the house by 8:20ish. I arrived home at 5:45pm. Gosh, that doesn't sound like a day off...but as a result of this morning's Children's District meeting I don't have to go into work until 5 pm on Thursday, woo hoo! I might catch a matinee!! (Suggestions??)

The point of living in Pittsburgh is to stay within a five mile radius of your house. I break this every day when I leave the city to go to work in the North Hills. (13 or so miles, plus one river.)

Because that's the other thing in Pittsburgh--all these bridges and the point of life in Pittsburgh is to not cross rivers. Well, today, not only did I drive to the South Hills (13 miles), I also:

• drove through 2 tunnels (or the rather the same tunnel, both directions.)
• crossed two rivers twice. (Mon, Mon, Allegheny, Allegheny)
• went to the South Hills for the morning and the North Hills for the afternoon.

I'm such a rebel!

**************
I continue to read Good Will by Jane Smiley (the second novella in the collection of two novellas called Ordinary Love and Good Will.) I heart Jane Smiley. She is just superb.

Also reading How to be Perfect by Jean Kerr (who also wrote plays, including Please Don't Eat the Daisies). HTBP is a collection of essays and it is delightful. It reminds me of Erma Bombeck or Peg Bracken. I'm sure Kerr's book is out of print, so it will now be my quest to find a copy.

I tried Lee Smith again (The Last Girls) and, nope, I just don't get her. Let me know if you love her, I'll pay postage within the U.S. Send me an email this week, or it goes to Goodwill.

And today I did my last bit of homework on Beth Moore's study on The Patriarchs. Oh how I love love love Beth Moore. Tomorrow at Women's Bible Study will be the last video session and then starting in January we'll be doing a book about being Mary in a Martha world? Something like that. It's hard to believe that the new year will be here very soon!! (No, I will not admit that Christmas is just three short weeks from now....)

I seriously could take a nap...which I might, since I'll be up at ten, to watch Studio 60...

I'm having some gals over Saturday for a Mary Kay party--a dear friend is qualifying to be a director and so to show her support, I'm having this party for her. I still have to invite more folks, but that nap thing is sounding really tempting....

************
Tried taking a nap: Sis called, Sally called, Kelly called. Oh well, I did catch a few winks and I did dishes while Kelly told me about her day.

10 mins to Studio 60!!

More Psalms...

So, here it is, the seventh day in a row that I'm doing something work related. (It feels like it's the ninth day in a row...) And the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up was email someone about something...

Something told me to STOP. So I picked up Tim Bott's exquisitely illustrated Psalms (someone special got it for me for my birthday--I said, how did you know? He said, when we were at Fox Books you only fawned over it for five minutes.) (Smiling, now, remembering that...) (Oh, he's married to someone else now, but it was a great moment in my life.)

So, I tend to make notes in books or put bookmarkers. Well, I would never write in this book unless it was to inscribe it for a gift, it is that exquisite. But I had bookmarked a page, so that's where I opened and it was like a megaphone to my life. (Psalm 127.)

Unless
THE LORD
BUILDS A HOUSE
The work of the builders is useless

It is useless for you to work so hard
from early morning until late at night
anxiously working for food to eat

For God gives rest to his loved ones.

(In the book, it's one of the ones he calligraphies, so it looks like the roof of a house.) This is one of my favorite Psalms. In my RSV Bible, which was given to me when I was confirmed in the Presbyterian church in seventh grade, this has a ton of dates. (I put dates by verses to mark when they hit me like a megaphone or when I'm praying them. I pray this Psalm a lot.)

Can you see why this would be a megaphone, on the seventh day of working in a row??? A few things in my life are not coming out the way I would want them to, and I have to remember that all my striving is useless "unless the Lord builds a house" for that thing in my life.

Humble pie, that's what I'll be having for breakfast. It's always better if you fix it yourself than if you eat it after making a face plant (BELIEVE ME ON THIS ONE.)

So, thanks for reading and I'll try to make sure I do something restful today...

Shake it, Shake it, shake it like a polaroid...

Please no more therapy
Mother take care of me
Piece me together with a
needle and thread
Wrap me in eiderdown
Lace from your wedding gown
Fold me and lay me down
On your bed...

("Polaroids", Shawn Colvin, off her 1992 release fat city)

I enjoy working Sundays at the library. I'm the only children's librarian, it's four hours, and people are doing homework, so they have interesting reference questions. But I am beyond BEAT! The sermon was undeniably one of John's best, but it took every inch of me to concentrate because I was so bone tired.

I had a chicken salad sandwich for dinner and now I'm having waffles and a beer. Then, bed. Because I have to be in White Hall by nine tomorrow! (That's South Hills--yes, in Pittsburgh, it takes over a half hour to go 13 miles....) (Not factoring in rush hour traffic...) I must really love being a children's librarian or something...

It's new, it's improved, it's...

Okay, there's something up with Blogger--I can only compose in the lovely "you must know HTML" (which I do, fools, it's called Library School) mode.

Anyways, in the interest of not boring yins and moi, I have decided to share something new. It's called "Sarah Louise's First Laugh of the Morning."

Today it goes to My Float, whose list to Santa is very mom and very wonderful. If I get the link on her name, be all impressed with my HTML skills.

Or, my fabulous research skills which led me to the blogger status page.

You'll note there are already a few in the category "first laugh of the morning" because I started noting this a few days ago but it was My Float's witticism that decided it needed to be a regular item. I'm sure you'll agree and if you don't, keep it to yourself!!

My dad often quotes a lady (I don't remember who) saying "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me." However, if you have bad comments (and I hardly ever get any--yins have such great manners) keep them to yourself.

BTW, the sky is GORGEOUS here in da Burgh. Or it was, when I began this post. Now it's kind of grey/cloudy.

I don't know that this will be a daily category, but time will only tell...

I'm sure this never happens to you...

So, today I was going to work, 9-5. Busted! I had leg cramps and all over feeling wretched, so I worked from 9:45 to 1.

So, usually I take Sunday off. Busted! My co-worker's grandma died so I'm working her hours. But, that gives me extra hours (to make up for leaving early today).

So, I watched movies (well, fell asleep during Runaway Bride) and just as Akeelah and the Bee was finishing, my cell phone rang! I love that sound, b/c unlike my regular phone, I never get telemarketers!

It was Sandy, who wondered if I wanted to meet her for dinner. SURE! So I went to the Union Station Cafe and talked about how I was going to Babette's Feast. Maria showed up too. How much I love that movie, how a friend of mine runs movies...and I got home around 7:15 and thought, there is no way I'm going out again.

Well, I did, but not to see Babette and her feasting. I got two beers at the mini-mart on Friendship Ave and some more heating pads at Walgreens and I'm drawing a bath as I write this.

It's called flexibility. I can't wait to go to bed early!!

In the House of Stone and Light...

A comment left by Sistahe reminded me of this song (because she referred to Psalm 91.)

I will not rest till I lay down my head
In the house of stone and light
I make my way
O gonna be such a beautiful day
In the house of stone and light
In the house of stone and light
Let me in beneath my skin
In the house of stone and light
It's been too long
My spirit's been at war
Havasupai Shaman
Let me be reborn

(Page Martin)

Happy Birthday, Boston

My junior year of high school, I met a girl who became my friend for lo, many years. Today is her birthday. We're not exactly in communication, but December 2 is always a red letter day on my calendar.

So sing a few rounds of the Birthday song...

Because you were one of my gold ones.

The King of Love my Shepherd is

The King of Love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine forever. (Henry W. Baker, 1868)

The summer before I was diagnosed bipolar was a trying one. I knew there was something wrong (I'd experienced insomnia at least once a month for months on end, my work was suffering, I was often paranoid). In April, I broke up with the man I had been dating. In early June, he tried to reconcile, and slowly we did, such that we were dating again by July 4th. I was seeking God every day on behalf of myself and this relationship. My walks in the morning were not let's look at nature, but let's come before God and find out what's what. I clung to the Twenty-third Psalm. When the darkness seemed to close in, I would hold onto my desk at the back of Fox Books, in the Children's Department, and recite from memory the Psalm my mother had taught me as a child for a bedtime prayer.

The shadow of the valley of deep darkness--I was acquainted with it, keenly. So, after I started my recovery, after my bipolar diagnosis, that Psalm only reminded me of that trying time. That time of intense suffering and confusion in my life. A time when I was scared because I didn't know where I was headed. I stopped saying it, and whenever it came to mind, I shut it away, so as to not remember that dark time.

I know that God can redeem anything, and this week, Beth Moore exorted to us that the only reason we get hardships as believers is because God has said yes to Satan and God has a bigger plan for that trial. That trial will result in more glory.

This morning, I was a mess. Everything, from an email from a friend to a song on the radio triggered me to tears. I felt like I was in the middle of the desert, with no oasis in sight. But I knew people were praying for me, and I knew that Jesus is always praying for me. I recited Scripture. I checked blogs. I sent emails. I listened to Shawn Colvin, especially Polaroids, from her album, fat city. I called my father and my sister and left messages on their phones. I somehow made it through the day.

And what a day it was: calm and balmy, then blustery, then deluges of Biblical proportion. On the way to work I actually turned off the road for a few minutes, it was raining so hard. When I got to work, the sky cleared a little bit and I walked in with my jacket wrapped around me. By the time it was time to go for my birthday lunch at Chili's, the rain had begun again. Just as we sat in our seats at Chili's, the deluge began again. All day it was like this. And then the sun came out. And then the clouds came back. It's what we here in da Burgh call "Severe Weather."

At 5:30 p.m., the library had a power outtage. For whatever reason, the emergency back up lights did not come on. It was already dark outside. You picture a library full of patrons and especially children, how they might react. Thankfully one of my co-workers, Sally (yes, another one!) was with me and I took our one flashlight to where I knew there were more. After some time, we evacuated the building. At six, Sally and I left, since our shifts were over. The six o'clock people would stay until all the kids waiting for rides had been picked up and then the library would be locked and left for the night.

I had no idea if there was electricity in Highland Park, and I knew that I didn't have food in the freezer even if we did have light. So I had dinner at Taco Bell, where I did my Beth Moore homework. And I commenced my drive home. And just as I was cresting the hill on McKnight Blvd, where there's a church with a Nativity scene up front, I turned off the radio and started praying. God, I know that you love me. God, I know that you won't test me beyond what I can stand. And I started repeating scripture and recalling promises God has in his Word. And at some point, as I crossed the Allegheny River on the Veteran's Bridge, the words to the Twenty Third Psalm came to me. "He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will not be afraid." And I could say these verses, which have been locked in my brain as a memory of that sad summer, smiling, laughing, singing.

And I sang praise songs all the way home.

We serve an awesome God--if we would only humble ourselves before him, he will lift us up.

I suppose I knew that someday God would return that Psalm to me, that someday it wouldn't taste like sawdust on my tongue. It was a complete and utter surprise to me when the words just came to my mind and I could feel the joy bubbling up.

It's only six verses. But how powerful they are:

Psalm 23 (RSV)

A Psalm of David.

1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
3He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
4Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

And the band played on... (World AIDS Day)

Erin does it again! Today is World AIDS day and she of course remembered.

What I am is what I am are you what you are or what?

(Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians)

Things I am/roles I play:

• The Queen of Angst (as opposed to the King of Pain)
• The Older Brother in the story of the Prodigal Son (I always thought I was the Prodigal Son!)
• Young looking for my age (a co-worker at my birthday lunch today thought I was 25!) (Smile)
• Obsessed with pink (well, that's not a news flash)
• Loved. That's an easy one to forget, all the time. But I am.

************************

God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. (BJ says this a lot at the OD.)

Happy Friday, yins!

My first laugh of the morning

From my Fabulous Broads page-a-day calendar:

"Ask a man if you need help clearing the table. He'll plunk the plates on the first clear surface and leave. Women hang around being helpful and hiding things."

(Writer Peg Bracken, most known for the I Hate To Cook Book.)

IT'S FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!