And now, a minute with Deaconess Jane

Christmas vacation (I refuse to say "Holiday Break" or "Winter Holiday") is more than half over. What. A. Drag. Only four more days before I have to go back to Hell. But since being off for a while has helped the sinkhole of depression in which I find myself . . . somewhat, I will try not to dwell too much on going back.

Anyway. While having coffee this morning at Barnes and Noble, my friend Gretchen and I were talking about--what else?--books we'd read recently. Since she is so much smarter than I, Gretchen reads about twice as much as I, and about twelve times more nonfiction than I. But we do read a lot of the same books. Case in point, The House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz. We agreed that Horowitz nailed Conan Doyle's style, but Gretchen insisted there was something missing. She didn't finish the book because of it. I finished it, but was disappointed that I figured it out a third to halfway through the book, from one line of dialogue from a minor character. Very un-Conan Doyle. Who ever figured out one of his Sherlock tales? As I have reflected on it during the day, I have decided that what Horowitz missed was Conan Doyle's supernatural quality. There was always something otherworldly and unsettling about his Sherlock Holmes cases. I think that, coupled of course with the fact that no one figures out the end of them on first read, that is what makes Sherlock Holmes the endearing, enduring fictional character that he is.

Why on earth that was what I chose to blog about after a very long, dry, silent spell, I do not know. But the bright note is that the depression is sucking me down into the pit just a little less right now, so I actually CAN blog. An improvement over the last few months, when all I've managed are a few brief Facebook posts. There is the promise of a silver lining. I just hope that returning to Hell next week doesn't tarnish it. Pray with me.

Now Reading . . .

The last book I bought for my Nook is John Adams, the excellent biography by David McCullough. If you haven't read it, you should. I wanted to re-read it and could have saved my money by getting it from the library. However, it is inconvenient to schlep a seven hundred page book around with me for the odd moment when I have a few minutes to read, and I had a Barnes and Noble gift certificate, so the Nook purchase won.

Not only is this book a fascinating biography of a complicated man, it is also a glimpse into eighteenth century America. This is the kind of history we don't learn in high school or those American History survey courses we're forced to sit through in college. Looking through the lens of over two hundred years, we can't imagine the world or the people of the late eighteenth century, and we take for granted, and even scoff at, the political system they envisioned and for which they eventually shed blood. We Americans don't remember, if we ever knew, that what the founders conceived for their new nation was radical, an absolute departure from any way of life at the time. The United States of America was a great and noble experiment, one that the rest of the western world expected would fail.

I will avoid sounding like an enthusiastic history teacher, but will comment about Texas and being a native daughter. Though we are required to study American history in Texas, what is also required of us is the study of Texas history, much more interesting to us than the distant events of eighteenth, nineteenth, and the rapidly-being-forgotten twentieth century that took place north of the Mason-Dixon line and east of the Mississippi River. While nothing stirs a Texan's blood like "Remember the Alamo!" and the story of our own struggle against an oppressive regime, we often forget that, since 1845, except for a few shameful years mired in the Confederacy, the legacy of the American Revolution is ours as well. We owe it to ourselves to turn from the immediacy of the American Southwest to gain a sense of what the founders achieved and bequeathed to us. I am fully committed to the indisputable fact that Texas is the greatest state; but I also believe that it is both a good and a negative thing that one of our state's catchphrases is that it is " . . . a whole other country."

And all this due to the inspiration of a beautifully-written book. What I really should have been is a librarian!

To close, a few words related to the biggest news of the week past. No, not the trial of the doctor who attended the late MJ, thank God, but the death of iconic businessman Steve Jobs. Yes, we've lost someone who changed the way we see the world and communicate with one another, and that is a sad thing. I find it ironic that only a few days ago, I became the owner of my first Apple product: an iPod  shuffle that I received as a birthday gift. Even I can be dragged into the Apple world, though I will never want to give up my PC.

 That's all, folks!

Rain and elevenses

Another lovely Saturday afternoon with three lovely friends. Tea sandwiches, quiche bites, scones with jam and clotted cream, madeleines, lavender cookies, strawberries, and a beautiful Victoria Sponge. (All this from ladies who may be very well able to keep a cook, but have no need of one because of their own culinary talents.) And of course, lots and lots of tea to accompany the food and conversation. Elevenses turned into a pleasant, late afternoon. Today we had the added delight of rain, a rare phenomena of late. What a blessing!

We now know with certainty whom in the group is Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced Boo-kay), and I'm sure one hasn't far to look to determine who is, alas, Daisy (with her very own Onslow, not in attendance at elevenses). That only leaves Rose and Violet . . . can you guess who fills those roles? (Not according anyone's husband the more vexing character flaws of Violet's Bruce, of course. Life does not precisely imitate art--there are no "sensitive" sons from our intimate little group, either, those amongst us with issue having had the good sense to produce intelligent and independent daughters.)

Until next time, au revoir. 

A Lovely Saturday

Yesterday was the loveliest day I've had in a while. Tea and luncheon (doesn't that sound SO elegant?) with three friends and lots of sharing. I feel so blessed and privileged to have these three ladies as friends. There's something special about the company of women, as I've said before, especially these three. Women can share thoughts, fears, concerns, celebrate triumphs and comfort each other in their losses. I pray for my daughters to have smart, fearless, friends that they can both walk beside and look up to. Life is too short to do alone, and I'm not talking about being single vs. married. Thanks, ladies, for being exactly who I needed to keep company with yesterday! And we MUST talk more about that tea room!

Done!

All papers submitted, all quizzes and tests finished. I am done. As of Monday, August 15, 2011, I am officially a UHD alumni! Praise God. Too tired to write more.

St. Patrick's Breastplate and other Saturday morning thoughts

Up since three this morning, thanks to last night's nebulizer treatment. At six, the hour of Prime (or Matins), formally began the day by praying St. Patrick's Breastplate.

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;*
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'well done' in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles' word,
The Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

At about six-thirty, I noticed a strange, clear, golden sort of light outdoors. Outside, looking west, I was graced with a view we haven't seen for a while, since it requires rain--a bright rainbow hanging between a thundercloud and, presumably, the ground. And to the right of it, a very faint second rainbow, the colors of the prism reversed. And, just for a few minutes, everything in view was so clean and crisp from the rain, the colors enhanced as if someone had turned up the setting. A flock of birds flew across the sky in front of the rainbow and the bank of dark clouds edged in pink and gold. It looked for all the world like one of those cheesy Thomas Kinkade paintings. 

Not my photo, but evocative of the mood.

I do know why we see rainbows (I have, after all, taken meteorology this summer). A rainbow is merely an optical phenomena, the light behind us refracting on the rain in front of us. Light moves from one transparent medium to another transparent medium that has a different density. Still, even if one knows the science, it is a miracle, created by a mind far greater than ours will ever be, a being that I am dimly understanding as not wholly Other, but moving through time with us the created. I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray . . . 

A Company of Women

This was a wonderful day of Jane Austen friends and . . . I'll say friendship. Each time I'm with these ladies I am enlightened, brightened, humbled by their collective wisdom and education, and energized. These women (no men so far, but they are welcome if they'd only care to show up) are accomplished in ways that have little to do with the prescribed female attributes of Jane's time. Even so, they are all so very genteel that I delight in their company if for no other reason than that. Is genteel the right word? Polite? Well-bred? It could be that it is difficult to find the right word for a twenty-first century woman with both sense and sensibility and decent manners. So many young women as well as young men have a distressing courseness about them. Surely there is a happy medium between the woman molded to her man's specifications that Rousseau advocated and Lady Gaga (who is a lady in pseudonym only).

The End is Near . . .

No, not another eschatalogical prediction. The End refers to my undergraduate career.

• I am currently attending the last face-to-face undergraduate course I will ever have.
• I have filed for graduation!
• I will order my diploma tomorrow. 
• After this summer session, two more online courses and by August 15 . . . 

Done!

It's almost anti-climactic.

So what's next for Jane? 

Best of all possible worlds, a new job, preferably in a church setting, that pays a living wage. And, grad school. Looking forward to both. 

Home stretch!

Very long semester is near the end. One final exam, one edited final research paper, and one final report. Will she make it? Stay tuned . . .

Ffffffreeezing . . . and a rant

In the 20s. The best thing about it is I am not at work. Ice is a small price to pay for that!

And now for a rant. God knows I'm due one.

Before I hit my 30s and my biological clock started ticking, I maintained that I did not want any children because I wouldn't know how to prepare them for life--the world as I knew it would essentially disappear within 50 years, and I didn't know how to raise them to deal with life in that world. Sure, I could give them a love of Shakespeare and drag them through museums and read Goodnight Moon, but even I, who's sort of a Trekkie, could not have imagined dealing with this strange culture.

I'm going to sound impossibly old and curmudgeonly, but here it is: I wish my girls would have grown up in my time. Here's a laundry list, for posterity, of the world I know:

1. There was value in a liberal arts education.
2. The church was still the church, not an entertainment venue that was only one Sunday morning choice.
3. Senseless murders were such a rarity that Truman Capote could get rich off writing a book about one incident.
4. One could actually understand the people who worked at any store in the city--and they could understand you when you spoke English. And, I might add, they didn't sneer at you for asking a question.
5. People wrote letters to one another. On paper. With a pen. In cursive.
6. Wars were fought to win. (Okay, Vietnam was my era, so this one's not absolutely accurate.)
7. Small business were the norm rather than the exception. Chain stores were, for the most part, a novelty.
8. There were no such things as privacy fences. One knew one's neighbors. 
9. Tattoos were only for sailors--the male variety.
10. One's level of health care was determined by one's illness, not one's insurance company.
11. Girl Scouts sold cookies door to door. 
12. Before nationalization, trains took one where one wanted to go, efficiently and for a reasonable price.
13. Not everyone owned a car, and if one did own a car, one had a driver's license and actually knew how to drive.
14. Immigrants were legal, or they were deported. Period.

In honor of my rant, a photo of me in the British Museum

There could be more ranting, but this representative sample is enough. For now. Of course the downside of my world was that women were treated even worse than they are now. So were people of color. No one cared about trash on the sides of the roads, air pollution, or strip mining. Vietnam veterans were pariahs. American corporations became greedy enough to send factories and jobs overseas. Another representative sample.

Can we change? Is our culture redeemable? Perhaps--one person at a time.

Yet another block on the educational road

Probably, the block is only in my mind. Once again, at the 11th hour, I have dropped a course based on the online content. Business and Technical Writing was not a course I'd have chosen to take, but I thought that I could just take it and get it over with.

Wrong. The book, available nowhere except the University book store, costs $100--and it was co-written by the instructor. Red Flag #1.

The introductory material, for which I could earn 5 points on a quiz over said material, consisted of 15 items, the first of which was a slide show with narration that I began watching on Windows Media and promptly went catatonic. Red Flag #2.

The number of assignments for the semester exceeded 40. Red Flag #3.

So, in spite of my well-laid plans, I am going to be attending class one night per week at UHD Northwest. Philosophy of Religion. Perhaps it will help me get out of the spiritual valley of dry bones in which I am stuck.

But on a positive note, my dear daughter Mary leaves Afghanistan in just a few hours! Thank you, God!

January . . .

. . . and it's COLD. My nemesis. I really believe that hell is cold, not hot. At least the circle to which I would be assigned. Must remember to be good.

Today's excitement consisted of getting my hair cut for the second time in a week. Basically, I got a really bad haircut on Saturday and had to pay someone else to fix it. It came out a little shorter than I wanted, but at least it doesn't look like thin syrup poured over my head, which was what the first one resembled. NEVER go to TGF again!

School starts again on Tuesday. All online classes this time. I'd love to take some interesting classes face-to-face but unfortunately all those are at times when I have to work. I really hate working. Tomorrow I'm starting on my internship work by meeting with my favorite high school librarian to get some recommendations for a high school summer reading list. The one we have now is crap.

So like 75 percent of America, I'm trying to lose weight. My goal is 23 pounds. So far I've lost three and a half. Not a stellar start, but if I lose three and a half each week, which is really fast weight loss, I'll have gotten to my goal in half the time allotted. Sarah Jane and I are weight-loss buddies. Whoever has lost the biggest percentage of their goal by the end of each month gets a new pair of pants from the other. On May 31, whoever's lost the most weight gets a fabulous new pair of jeans from the other. She wants Buckle jeans, I want True Religion. We'll see who wins.

So, short hair, really cold weather, and trying to lose weight. I hope I can stick with it. I really want those jeans.