I'm in the throws of writing reports and am escaping for a bit between each one. 11:12 pm, and what is on my mind?
--Don't itch the bug bites.
--Why do the ones on my fingers itch the most?
--I need to take a course off to rest my heart. Get perspective again.
--I love Patty Griffin.
--I need to play my guitar more.
--I hate writing reports.
--My brother will be working with the Boys Endeavors program and should be arriving sometime tonight or tomorrow. It will be bizarre to see him running around camp. I hope it all goes well for him.
--I love MN.
--I miss WI.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
If I could marry any stretch of land in the world . . .
I would marry the North Shore--truly. I'm a sucker for rocks, water and the woods, and all merge beautifully along the Superior Hiking Trail. Above I'm "posing" for a picture above Grand Marais. It's a sloppy Proud Warrior, but we had just hiked 8 miles. And let me add that I must now avoid Grand Marais like I avoid Bozeman, MT . . .I could all too easily move there and live happily ever after.
The girls on a section of trail that leads down to the Devil's Track River.
Hiking along the shore . . .again, so much beauty.There are more pictures, but I have midnight checks for solo tonight, so I've got to get myself together before venturing out to our sites. Hope all is well in your parts of the world.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Rain . . .and More Rain
Thunder MountainLife is good . . .and wet. The girls are good . . .and wet. Me? Good . . .and wet.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Old-School Surprises Still Exist . . .
. . .meeting someone intriguing, kind, and wonderfully sarcastic while you walk the dogs.
. . .picking up extra work between courses at a previous employment with a starting pay that is higher than when you left two years ago.
. . .shearing sheep for the first time (pictures will come later).
. . .having your side-view mirror ripped off by a carwash (today).
. . .waking up to a large german shepherd draped over half your body, watching you intently.
. . .waking up later to that same german shepherd snoring furiously with his head nestled into your armpit.
I'm off to MN tomorrow morning for another go-around with Thistledew's Girls Endeavors. Backpacking and the Superior Hiking Trail--should be delicious . . . .
. . .picking up extra work between courses at a previous employment with a starting pay that is higher than when you left two years ago.
. . .shearing sheep for the first time (pictures will come later).
. . .having your side-view mirror ripped off by a carwash (today).
. . .waking up to a large german shepherd draped over half your body, watching you intently.
. . .waking up later to that same german shepherd snoring furiously with his head nestled into your armpit.
I'm off to MN tomorrow morning for another go-around with Thistledew's Girls Endeavors. Backpacking and the Superior Hiking Trail--should be delicious . . . .
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Look Out
Come to the window, look out, and see
the valley turning green in remembrance
of all springs past and to come, the woods
perfecting with immortal patience
the leaves that are the work of all time,
the sycamore whose white limbs shed
the history of a man's life with their old bark,
the river under the morning's breath quivering
like the touched skin of a horse, and you will see
also the shadow cast upon it by fire, the war
that lights its way by burning the earth.
Come to your windows, people of the world,
look out at whatever you see wherever you are,
and you will see dancing upon it that shadow.
You will see that your place, wherever it is,
your house, your garden, your shop, your forest, your farm,
bears the shadow of its destruction by war
which is the economy of greed which is plunder
which is the economy of wrath which is fire.
The Lords of War sell the earth to buy fire,
they sell the water and air of life to buy fire.
They are little men grown great by willingness
to drive whatever exists into its perfect absence.
Their intention to destroy any place is solidly founded
upon their willingness to destroy every place.
Every household of the world is at their mercy,
the households of the farmer and the otter and the owl
are at their mercy. They have no mercy.
Having hate, they can have no mercy.
Their greed is the hatred of mercy.
Their pockets jingle with the small change of the poor.
Their power is the willingness to destroy
everything for knowledge which is money
which is power which is victory
which is ashes sown by the wind.
Leave your windows and go out, people of the world,
go into the streets, go into the fields, go into the woods
and along the streams. Go together, go alone.
Say no to the Lords of War which is Money
which is Fire. Say no by saying yes
to the air, to the earth, to the trees,
yes to the grasses, to the rivers, to the birds
and the animals and every living thing, yes
to the small houses, yes to the children. Yes.
the valley turning green in remembrance
of all springs past and to come, the woods
perfecting with immortal patience
the leaves that are the work of all time,
the sycamore whose white limbs shed
the history of a man's life with their old bark,
the river under the morning's breath quivering
like the touched skin of a horse, and you will see
also the shadow cast upon it by fire, the war
that lights its way by burning the earth.
Come to your windows, people of the world,
look out at whatever you see wherever you are,
and you will see dancing upon it that shadow.
You will see that your place, wherever it is,
your house, your garden, your shop, your forest, your farm,
bears the shadow of its destruction by war
which is the economy of greed which is plunder
which is the economy of wrath which is fire.
The Lords of War sell the earth to buy fire,
they sell the water and air of life to buy fire.
They are little men grown great by willingness
to drive whatever exists into its perfect absence.
Their intention to destroy any place is solidly founded
upon their willingness to destroy every place.
Every household of the world is at their mercy,
the households of the farmer and the otter and the owl
are at their mercy. They have no mercy.
Having hate, they can have no mercy.
Their greed is the hatred of mercy.
Their pockets jingle with the small change of the poor.
Their power is the willingness to destroy
everything for knowledge which is money
which is power which is victory
which is ashes sown by the wind.
Leave your windows and go out, people of the world,
go into the streets, go into the fields, go into the woods
and along the streams. Go together, go alone.
Say no to the Lords of War which is Money
which is Fire. Say no by saying yes
to the air, to the earth, to the trees,
yes to the grasses, to the rivers, to the birds
and the animals and every living thing, yes
to the small houses, yes to the children. Yes.
--Wendell Berry
I couldn't agree more . . . .
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
Relief
My dad has been harassing me for some time now to go to a church that he has been "seeing on the side." (Scandalous.) It's a small UCC church (United Church of Christ) and the woman is a pastor from Seattle or Vancouver. (My father knows this because she prays for the Seattle Seahawks during football season.)
"I know you'll like this church, Kris."
"I don't know, Dad. I've been to a few in the area and the odds aren't in your favor."
"Tomorrow morning? From 9-10? It'll only be for an hour and I'll take you out to lunch."
"Lunch after? Hmmm . . .okay."
So with a bribe of free food, I attended Emmanuel UCC and was THOROUGHLY impressed. I don't even know where to begin. Do I start with the fact that the message was about genuinely loving other people and discerning the differences between judgment and inspiration? Or do I talk about the multi-generational congregation that was eager to participate during the sermon? Oh, and there was the "Emmanuael UCC GREEN SHEET . . .Your guide to Local, Sustainable & Fair Living in the larger Dousman area," with one of the farmers speaking in an adult forum after (to discuss CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture), one of which I will be buying a share in). Maybe it was their affirmation of faith: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. And we shall love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. This is the first and great commandment. The second is like it: Love our neighbor as we love ourselves. There is no greater commandment. Amen." Note the emphasis on love, along with the plural language indicating that it is a communal act of love. There is also a discussion group that meets on Thursday nights at one of my favorite coffee shops to explore a weekly article provided by the church. This week's is "Taking the Long View" by Gregory Jones, dean of Duke University Divinity School, and "Biting the Land that Feeds Us" by Jim Scharplaz, a rancher in Kansas. Can I say that I'm in love?
During the service, the pastor sang This Little Light of Mine during part of her message and I started weeping. Even now, I'm tearing up just over remembering it. Man. Maybe I'm ovulating or something. Or maybe I encountered God's love in a church building, which is rare these days. What I like the most about this particular church is that the love doesn't stay in the building, reserved for those who show up on Sundays. They're very community-minded and I think I just might throw myself at them, telling them that they can use me wherever when I'm home between courses. Already I'm interested in volunteering to help organize/distribute the food drop-offs for one of our local CSA farmers . . .maybe I'll start there, meet a farmer, and live happily ever after. Kidding, kidding, though I'm not opposed to life working out that way . . . .
The beauty of it all was that later I could sit with my father, eating ribeye (spelling?) sandwiches and french fries, and discuss fair trade, ecological responsibility, and the latest car he's restoring. And all of that because we attended a church with a pastor who happens to be a woman. In Dousman, of all places.
Ah, the sweet aroma of health. . . .
Good work, Emmanuel UCC! You've restored some hope to this post-seminary church critic.
"I know you'll like this church, Kris."
"I don't know, Dad. I've been to a few in the area and the odds aren't in your favor."
"Tomorrow morning? From 9-10? It'll only be for an hour and I'll take you out to lunch."
"Lunch after? Hmmm . . .okay."
So with a bribe of free food, I attended Emmanuel UCC and was THOROUGHLY impressed. I don't even know where to begin. Do I start with the fact that the message was about genuinely loving other people and discerning the differences between judgment and inspiration? Or do I talk about the multi-generational congregation that was eager to participate during the sermon? Oh, and there was the "Emmanuael UCC GREEN SHEET . . .Your guide to Local, Sustainable & Fair Living in the larger Dousman area," with one of the farmers speaking in an adult forum after (to discuss CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture), one of which I will be buying a share in). Maybe it was their affirmation of faith: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. And we shall love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. This is the first and great commandment. The second is like it: Love our neighbor as we love ourselves. There is no greater commandment. Amen." Note the emphasis on love, along with the plural language indicating that it is a communal act of love. There is also a discussion group that meets on Thursday nights at one of my favorite coffee shops to explore a weekly article provided by the church. This week's is "Taking the Long View" by Gregory Jones, dean of Duke University Divinity School, and "Biting the Land that Feeds Us" by Jim Scharplaz, a rancher in Kansas. Can I say that I'm in love?
During the service, the pastor sang This Little Light of Mine during part of her message and I started weeping. Even now, I'm tearing up just over remembering it. Man. Maybe I'm ovulating or something. Or maybe I encountered God's love in a church building, which is rare these days. What I like the most about this particular church is that the love doesn't stay in the building, reserved for those who show up on Sundays. They're very community-minded and I think I just might throw myself at them, telling them that they can use me wherever when I'm home between courses. Already I'm interested in volunteering to help organize/distribute the food drop-offs for one of our local CSA farmers . . .maybe I'll start there, meet a farmer, and live happily ever after. Kidding, kidding, though I'm not opposed to life working out that way . . . .
The beauty of it all was that later I could sit with my father, eating ribeye (spelling?) sandwiches and french fries, and discuss fair trade, ecological responsibility, and the latest car he's restoring. And all of that because we attended a church with a pastor who happens to be a woman. In Dousman, of all places.
Ah, the sweet aroma of health. . . .
Good work, Emmanuel UCC! You've restored some hope to this post-seminary church critic.
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