The Art of the Book Pile

As we age we discover we have become adept at many esoteric things. One of my gifts is apparently the ability to create good book piles. (And we all know beauty is in the eye of the beholder. My husband does not find them quite as mesmerizing as I do.) I keep several piles around the house. Next to my "study" chair and ottoman is the "Study Pile". There you will find my two basic Greek books... kept within hand's reach for easy access, the books needed for whatever projects I'm working on, Challies' current classic book and a few candidates for future Ladies' Book Clubs. Next to the love seat is a stack of Seminary Journals, an easier to read book for the evenings I'm brain dead and two fat puzzle books (crossword & Suduko) for emergency use. Upstairs beside my bed are the books I read at bedtime, along with my "waiting to be read" stacks. In the Library are some works I am working through more slowly, as well as the overflow stacks of books I've already read, but wish to keep near for reference, lending or rereading. The system seems to work for me, so I thought I'd give you the visual basics of book piles.

Here's a good example of a "project pile". Using table space, however, can be problematic as you may want to actually use the table for eating. [Table surfaces tend to get covered much too easily!]

This is a cardinal sin... NEVER place knick-knacks where books should be. Don't listen to HGTV! This is a waste of perfectly good bookshelf space. It IS acceptable to place small items in front of the books, as long as it doesn't slow down your ability to grab a book quickly. Pictures hung on book shelves over books are also no-nos.

This is what the book pile next to my study chair normally looks like. You can tell it's an "active pile", that serious work is going on here and that it's more than just a dust collector next to my chair. A slightly cluttered pile shows thinking is going on.

This is that same book pile after Tina has cleaned my house. It takes me an entire week to get it back into its "proper" position!

                                                                                                                                                                        And this is how Tina REALLY wants to stack them! Beware of overachievers like this!

Winter

Winter came late this year, but it seems to be making up for lost time. I thought you might enjoy the following poem by Ogden Nash:

Winter comes but once a year but it lasts for most of it,
And you may think there is a chance it may be a mild one, but there isn't a ghost of it.
Some people still say ice is nicer than slush
And to those people I say Hush.

Some people still say snow is nicer than rain,
Which is like being still unreconciled to the defeat of James G. Blaine.
Some people still say a freeze is nicer than a thaw,
And I hope they find cold storage Japanese beetles in their slaw.

Slush is much nicer than ice because when you step in it you simple go splash,
instead of immediately depositing either your posterior or your pate on it,
And also you don't have to skate on it.
Rain is much nicer than snow because you don't have to have rain plows piling rain up in six-foot piles exactly where you want to go,
And you don't have to build rain-men for the kiddies and frolic in sleighs and sleds,
and also rain is nicer because it melts the snow.
A thaw is obviously much nicer than a freeze,
Because it annoys people with skis.
And in all my life I have only known one man who honestly liked winter better than summer,
Because every summer he used to have either his tonsils or his appendix or something out,
and every winter he was a plumber.

Are You From New England?

I came across this and thought it might bring a chuckle... and perhaps motivate me to start writing here again. Can you add to the list?

You know you live in New England if ...

... you can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching.

... you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time.

... you're proud that your region makes the national news 96 nights each year because Mt. Washington is the coldest spot in the nation.

... your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May.

... someone in Home Depot offers you assistance, and they don't work there.

... you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number.

... you measure distance in hours.

... you have switched from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again.

... you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both unlocked.

... you carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use them.

... you design your child's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

... you know the 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction.

The Pictures Tim Won't Let You See

You might want to head over to Tim's blog to catch up on the discussion concerning "Centaurs" vs "unicorns". He has come out heavily prejudiced towards one side and refuses to fairly present the case! So, since this is MY blog (which, admittedly, no one reads), I will reveal the Truth . Tim contends that unicorns are not noble, brave beasts, worthy of joining you in battle. As you can see from theses pictures... the world does not agree with him. The Czech Republic and Scotland, to name but two, include the noble creature on their coats of arms. And what are coats of arms? They were identifying banners carried into Battle! [I bet William Wallace had a unicorn on HIS coat of arms!]

Simple Math

ONE FERRARI












+ ONE LIGHT POLE AT 200 MPH










= PIECES






Injuries: some bruising & two small cuts.
Car Loss: $1,000,000
Mileage: 9 miles
Waiting List for New One: 2 years
Still Alive: Priceless
When can I drive Dad's car again?: Nuclear Half Life

Truth in Advertising. . . and Love

In poetry there is a particular style which intimately itemizes a lover's beauty by using hyperbole and simile. It's called "blazon" or "blason". We certainly find a bit of this in Song of Solomon, but it develops into a particular style in the "romances" of the Middle Ages and on into the Renaissance.

Many of you are probably quite familiar with Shakespeare's marvelous sonnets. . . sigh. . . BUT chances are you never came across Sonnet 130, which parodies this "blazon" form of love poetry. I wouldn't recommend sending this to your "beloved", but enjoy the chuckle. . .

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

The World of Joel

Today we had the 1st & 2nd graders at our VBS site. I have to share with you one young boy's outlook on the lesson. It helps if you happen to know this child, so apologies to those of you who don't. Let me just say that some day there will be a bestseller entitled "The Sayings of Joel".

In the first half of the class I was teaching the lesson [Luke 5:1-11]. I always try to have the children use their Bibles, so we allowed extra time to make sure everyone had a Bible and that it was open to the correct page. [NOT an easy task with this age group, I might add!] As I told them what happened I would stop and have them read a section out of their Bible and answer my questions. I called on Joel to read and he informed me that he didn't read, so I quickly passed on to another child. During the second half of the class, Sarah St. J. was teaching them the memory verse and had written it out on a large poster. After reading it together a few times Joel eagerly raised his hand, saying, "Excuse me. [note politeness: he has a VERY good mother!] May I say the verse by myself?" He then proceeded to READ the verse from the poster. Sarah looked amazed and said to him, "Joel, I thought you said you didn't read?" To which he replied, "Oh, I can read. I just don't read the Bible. My parents do it for me." [YOU try keeping a straight face after a comment like that!]

At the very end, Sarah called on the kids one at a time to say the verse without reading the poster. Joel did very well...till the end. Instead of saying, "They left everything and followed him", he said, "They left all their stuff and followed him." Now isn't that more memorable phrasing? I'd love to see his translation of the Bible!

Cheap Attempt to Get Comments

I know I haven't been posting much lately. It's not that I'm not thinking. It's not that I'm not reading. It's not that I'm not studying my Bible. It's not even that I'm not writing...I'm just not writing HERE. But you may have noticed that in my previous offerings, I have not had a single comment in ages. That leads me to believe that either no one is READING my blog any more or it's just that no one is writing comments. If I'm really writing only for myself, that's OK. I like to write! ;) But I am curious about which is true.

Sooo..I am posting a story guaranteed to get at least ONE comment. Here are pictures of scenes from LOST as portrayed in LEGOS!! Ehhh? I'm on to something, aren't I?! A crowd pleaser for sure...

The Food of My Dreams

Just before waking this AM I had a dream in which I was supposed to write an essay about peanut butter. In the dream my main problems were finding things to write on and trying to finish the essay before the time was up. I actually composed and edited the essay in my dream! When I awoke I felt compelled to quickly write it down. Now what are blogs for if not to share compelling dream essays? [Do you ever compose in your dreams or is this something unique to me? Is this how "War and Peace" was written? ... lots of naps?] Here's as far as I got with the essay before waking up:

What I love most about peanut butter is how it assails your senses. As you grab for that jar with the familiar red, blue and yellow logo you wonder how ANYONE could choose another brand. If we call products "Kleenex" and "Bandaids" and "Fluff", why don't we call peanut butter "Skippy"? As you unscrew the blue lid the strong peanuty aroma transports you back to the endless days of childhood, full of fresh air and sunshine. Then you slowly, precisely spread it onto your white bread, careful not to tear that precious commodity, and fold the bread in half - the perfect meal held in one hand. The first bite has to come from the middle, of course. The resulting overabundance of peanut butter in your mouth thickens your tongue, forcing you to use a finger to pry cheek from teeth.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

On the humorous side - Kids are notorious for getting the words to songs & verses messed up, as well as for being brutally honest. Here are a few good ones. [Thanks, Jane!]

3-year-old Reese:
"Our Father, Who does art in heaven,
Harold is His name. Amen."


After the christening of his baby brother in church,
Jason sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car.
His father asked him three times what was wrong.
Finally, the boy replied,
"The pastor said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home,
and I wanted to stay with you guys."


A mother was preparing pancakes for her sons, Kevin 5, and Ryan 3.
The boys began to argue over who would get the first pancake.
Their mother saw the opportunity for a moral lesson.
"If Jesus were sitting here, He would say,
'Let my brother have the first pancake, I can wait.'
Kevin turned to his younger brother and said,
"Ryan, you be Jesus!"

Weapon of Choice

Anyone who knows me will appreciate the irony of this story...

Preparing the guestroom for Christmas, I was putting away extraneous "junk" and tidying up a bit, trying to make space for the soon-to-be arriving "guest" and her luggage. In a little nook in one corner of the room I keep a stack of Concordances and other reference books on the floor. I give them out to the SS kids, who earn them by consistently doing their Quiet Times every week. It's cheaper to buy them in a 5-pack from CBD, so I often have a nice little pile patiently awaiting their future owners. As I cruised around the room picking up I happened to notice this pile was not flush with the wall, so using the side of my foot I gave it a quick smack to push them out of the way.

After the holidays we noticed an unpleasant smell coming from the guest room, which we attributed to gases from the septic system backing up into the house. We have had a similar smell over the years, usually when it gets really cold out, and for years had decided this must be the source of the odor.

Time passes on...the smell goes away.

Recently Beth and Niam came to visit. Beth, who turned into "Super-Smell Woman" with her pregnancy, picked up the scent, though we were no longer able to smell it. She tracked it down - to the pile of reference books on the floor in the nook. After carefully moving the books away from the wall she discovered an extremely thin, extremely dead mouse with bulging eyes - smooshed up against the wall! Yes, friends...it was death by Concordance! MY weapon of choice!

News of My Demise Greatly Exaggerated

I received an interesting call yesterday. A friend I had not spoken with for some time is currently attending Seminary with Tim - out there on the other coast. He had called to ask me how I was. Now, I found that to be quite considerate. Believing he was asking about my long-term cerebral dysfunction, I was pleased to tell him that I have had fewer sensory seizures and migraines since we had last discussed it. At this point I'm thinking..."What a good friend! I haven't emailed or called HIM in months and here he is, busier than I can imagine, calling me all the way from the other coast to inquire into my health." Guilt would have set in, except that we were soon chatting away about various subjects, just like we always used to do. [I even got a good book recommendation out of it!]

After his free phone minutes must have certainly expired [I can't get used to keeping track of how long you talk to people!], it finally came out WHY he had called me. It seems that in a chapel service for the entire Seminary, prayer was requested for Tim's mother, who was seriously ill and in need of saving faith! This was certainly news to ME ... and I'm the only mother he's got, as far as I know. My friend later went up to the man who had requested the prayer to be sure the gentleman had correct information, but the guy insisted he was in a class with Tim and had personally heard it straight from him!

Sooo...my conclusion is either:

1. Tim has had a vision and I am apparently NOT in the place I had thought I was.

2. Tim has not seen a recent entry on my blog and has concluded the worst.

3. The gentleman did not write the request down clearly enough - it was really for Tim's GRANDmother.

I can hardly wait for the reception I will receive from those Seminarians when I go out for graduation in a few months. They will be thrilled to see their prayers have been answered...and to discover it was retroactive by 27 years!

In the News: Rival Monks Clash in Greece

For those of you who may not have picked up on this AP story out of Thessaloniki, Greece, it seems there is rather a to-do about efforts made by the Greek Orthodox Church to improve relations with the Roman Catholic Church. Now a Protestant may not appreciate the doctrinal differences between the two, and I certainly can't claim to be up-to-date on all the specific issues. In the US Roman Catholics greatly outnumber Greek Orthodox, and it is not uncommon for us to unite the two in our minds. BUT... there are major doctrinal and practical differences. The current disagreement did not come as a great surprise to me... but the actions it spurred seemed decidedly "un-monklike" to me. Here is an excerpt:

"Police posted a guard yesterday outside a chapel at an Orthodox monastic sanctuary where rebel monks remained barricaded following clashes that left seven people injured. Wednesday's violence involved rival groups of monks carrying crowbars and sledge-hammers." Not very Friar Tuck-ish, huh?

It reminded me of an article in 2004 about Greek Orthodox and Franciscan priests getting into a fist fight at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, after arguing over whether a door in the basilica should be closed during a procession. Club-wielding Iraeli riot police had to break up the fight.

I mention all of this because I have talked to believers who live, or have had extended visits, in Israel. When you say you are a "Christian", not only are you identifying yourself with the Spanish Inquisition and any & all Crusader atrocities wreaked upon the Jews, you are also identifying yourself with the Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches. That is their picture of "Christianity". I would hazard a guess that similar assumptions are made in other foreign countries. It's bad enough that we have to be identified with the Jimmy Swaggerts and Tammy Fay Bakers, but we also carry the burden of every brawling priest or monk.

So what's the answer? First, I think we need to realize that everything WE do reflects upon the name "Christian". I can't control the actions of every person who takes on the name "Christian", but I can control my own witness. Second, we have to use God's Word as the basis for Truth. How many times have you witnessed Christ to someone who believed all churches were "full of hypocrites"? I've certainly heard that a lot. My response is that some churches are "full of forgiven sinners", who do not always obey their Lord. Then I point them to God and His Word as being what they ultimately need to deal with.

Any other thoughts? Ideas?