Saturday, August 23, 2014

making peace with progress

Denali from Talkeetna
1) Our local newspaper has gone away, and I guess I still need to make a visit to their vault to get our four youngest 'Stork Report' clippings. When Vivian was born I remember being told that the newspaper office maintains a few copies of each day's newspaper indefinitely, and one can request them in person at the ADN office. Now that they've moved online, everything feels transient and like those newspapers could vanish. Like they take 'their duty to me' less seriously. Which I know is silly. It's been ten years and I'm probably never going there. But how dare they!

2) I signed up for a deductive reasoning class online with Duke University (I'm not a total curmudgeon about the internet, see?) and am excited to see what it's like.

3) We've crossed the threshold into Too Many Kids to attend the Alaska State Fair cheaply, even with our tricks (totally different bag of tricks than we used at the Ventura County Fair, way back when) --- so it looks like an undercover mission with our three oldest is in order. I hope to see photos. Just husband Anthony with Viva, Margaret & Veronica. --- no babies and no mom --- paaaaaaaarty.

4) Do you think it's impractical to invite Snoop Doggy Dogg to our 20-year high school class reunion this summer? I really want to.

5) One more link. Okay, two.

6) I might soon write a sex post and try to keep it as elegant and approachable as Simcha's lovely new book. Stay tuned for all that, DAD. hahaha. Um. I would never do that.

7) That wraps up my first attempt at 7 whoodly what whats, or however Jennifer calls it. She regularly slays it over here.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

I swear to you that I saw Woody Harrelson in a maroon 1987 Subaru GL wagon...

ray troll (looks like Ketchikan?)
at the corner of Crusey and the Parks Highway today. And my bra is filled with sand. Our summer is complete.

Monday, August 18, 2014

from the church bulletin

Older people are a special presence of God
among us. This is so, not only because old age
brings wisdom (it does not always do so), but

because the twilight of life is a time of extreme

refinement. The spirit becomes humble. There are

fewer idols. False illusions and false promises crumble and

this enables older people to become more perceptive. Old age

can be a very dark hour, but for this very reason, it can also be

the eve that ushers in life's Eternal Dawn.

oh, Internet.

Heather says Love is the Way:

more about this soon --- but it's a winner! Damn, I don't miss Facebook. I have made more face-to-face amends for stuff I've typed than any other area of my life. Growing isn't easy. But I'm so totally not giving up my preppy handbag. :)

Saturday, August 16, 2014

thank you, Allison Grace

Vivaldi says get to work, kids.
and each of the friends who tread with joy along this path. Teresa, Tana, Joy, Michele, Anne and your 45 (!) children, plus all the happy faces we continue to meet through your acquaintance.

wildflowers and marbles ~ she says it like you would, and *with lists*

for everyone who's drawn to this, not just homeschoolers : )

Friday, August 15, 2014

desperation is better than despair

(There's not really a point to this blog post. Mostly a brain dump, and I hope the Ben Stein piece will reach more eyes. As a writer, there's supposed to be a one-or two sentence takeaway possible afterwards, right? this doesn't meet that criteria, but I'm very sad and wanted to share.)

I've just heard the news about Robin Williams' grappling with the beginnings of Parkinson's. It's a comfort to know he was sober, according to his wife, and it makes sense that physical sobriety is in fact unbearable without a program of recovery. To an addict, the toxic (for us) substances are the solution, not the problem. Strictly speaking, "the problem" begins when the drugs run out or stop working. Also, other people seem to have a problem with our ... antics.

Among the attitudes I encountered while asking friends and family the Weed Question, there was an almost un-nameable strain of, "Stoned losers are always going to be stoned losers, so who cares." This stung ~ as a former stoned loser and an escapee from addiction, I couldn't reconcile my own experience with such extreme dismissal of the human journey. In my mid-teenage years, after writing off notions of family and faith as naive, but before meeting judges and hospitals, I was given the benefit of men like Mr. Eddy --- who somehow intimated that I was made for better stuff than even the best dope around. Notably for those who love him, Mr. Eddy is in his third decade of living with Parkinson's Disease. I think of Robin Williams, with John Belushi hours before his fatal overdose in 1982, and the decades of public joy and productivity which followed -- all created by an addict saved from the trash heap.

As to the Parkinson's Disease, facing certain physical decline is often touted as a reason for "assisted suicide" and abortion. We hear fallacies about being 'productive' as the measure of a life. I think of John Paul the Great and his witness of a holy death. I want to blame the culture of death for its utilitarian treatment of people, but blame belongs other places, too: misapplication of psychoactive drugs, highbrow culture, Hollywood, lowbrow culture, selfie culture, Major Depression, the Sexual Revolution (see utilitarian treatment of people), and predictably, the whispering plunder of the Devil himself. Lower power indeed. Like Bob Dylan says, You Gotta Serve Somebody.

Last year, Simcha wrote a memorable piece about beating a cause to the point of becoming deaf and dumb, and I risk doing that if I pretend to know the details of this tragedy. And as my husband shrugged, "Do you know how many people offed themselves yesterday? Nobody cares about them. Even this claim of caring is selfish. He was a thing." (this is how my husband talks, but he's not endorsing --- just describing. He is the best describer I know.)

Before despair comes desperation. When desperation is shared, it recedes. By the same selfie culture which pierced his blameless daughter, Robin Williams' privacy was finally so desecrated that his options for spiritual salvage seemed to close in on him.

With a few kids who have a flair for dramatic, we've begun conversations about the ultimate isolation of the performing arts. They can be fulfilling, noble and ordered to the good, sure --- but the risk of becoming a 'thing' to surrounding caretakers, pawing fans, or well-intentioned managers seems ever-present. No matter our affection or connection with an artist, it's not my Christmas morning that will be empty without Robin Williams. He was someone's Daddy.

NB --- I have to link it again ---  every word of Ben Stein's take rings true, from where I sit.  I wasn't a big fan of Robin Williams' raw comedy because of the hints of sex-tinged stuff that put me off, even as a kid/before I could name or recognize the "blue" as blue. My preferences aside, his talent was so grand and generous, his range so vast, that his loss feels like a hunk of the earth dropped away. I guess it has. Addiction has only three ends, unless arrested ~ jails, institutions and death. May God help me to be less selfish. To reach for Him through sharing my needs with others, and doing my best to meet theirs.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

A Mother Lifts Her Son, Slowly, from Heroin Overdose

Please meet Alex and pray for their needs tonight.

Any Mother Worth Her Salt

has at some point made the following discoveries (I'm in list-making mode!):

No Time for Politics, Charles Dana Gibson
10     an abandoned egg or diaper, rotting away in her motorcar.
9           Most existential worries are helped by raucous play and a pot of coffee.
              Laughing with friends is a great clarifier.
8            Real men are necessary, mysterious and easy to please. Ditto little boys.
7            This!
6            Speech impediments are (extremely) cute and (mostly) temporary.
5            We don't need to recreate the wheel. (or is it re-invent? I am so bad at the idioms.)
4            The Divine will be protected in our midst as it first was in human form ~ by a Mother.
3             Serenity comes at a price, but is always a bargain.
                'be joyful because it is humanly possible" -Wendell Berry
2            There remain five steps to laundry: sort, wash, dry, fold, put away.
               And stuck on the fourth step, I remain.
1            The seasons of life are fleeting, even when they don't eat their oatmeal.