Rain and Gloom, Or How I (re)Discovered God's Faithfulness in February

the last two months have been a challenge. i packed up my cozy room in mcconnellsburg. i said tearful goodbyes to my church family and, you know, my regular one. i said goodbye to one tiny town and hello to another tiny town.

i moved to camp.

and if you know me, you know i love camp. it felt so strange to be away from it this summer. away from the games, the routine, the songs and skits and staff. so the opportunity to be back - and not just back, but back starting in january - sounded fantastic. it sounded like where i was supposed to be.

but when the time to leave rolled around, it felt less like that. i realized how much home felt like, well, home. leaving felt absurd and scary. but at that point, it's not like there was much of a choice left to make; it was time to go.

and now i'm here. the work is good work. i have community, and a job that matters. i live in a cozy house:

and i live with friends and neighbors who are caring, loving, and gracious. even with all that, the transition has been rough around the edges at times. i leapt headfirst into a time consuming and pretty intense job. and even with the familiarity of camp and the surrounding area, there's a level of feeling out of place that comes and goes.

in other words, it's not home yet.

today i gave a family with three sons a tour of the property and answered their questions about camp. and while i was telling them about everything we do, i remembered how much this place can feel like home. i remembered how precious my summers have been here, and i remembered how much i love being here.

so this afternoon, i decided to go for a walk. the weather here is downright gross today. it's rainy, gloomy, muddy and wet. yesterday would've been a much better day to trek about, with the sun out and the bright blue sky, but today felt right. it's not too cold, and the rain isn't too heavy. and the more i looked, the more beautiful the day became.

i don't mean to sound too melodramatic here. it's not like i've been slogging through some emotional turmoil and i finally had some breakthrough today. "i've been so sad, but now i see that the sad is beautiful!" ha, not this time. i'm actually quite happy, but the confusion and transition felt a little messy.

today it was nice to be out in the mess and enjoy it. it's not that photogenic, it's not the ideal day to show off our property, or to take a lot of photos for my blog to impress you with the beauty of my surroundings. but it's where i am right now, and today i remembered that the lord put me here with great intentionality. he put me here, because here is where i'm supposed to be. he put me here in the middle of winter, when there are no kids, when it snows all the time, when it's cold and icy.

he put me here to accomplish his purposes for me, no matter how vague or distant they might feel to me right now. and he calls me to enjoy it, not just in the summer. not just on the bright and beautiful days, but always.

The Annunciation

The Annunciation, 1898, by Henry Ossawa Tanner.

an angel came to me

and i was unprepared

to be what God was using.

mother i was to be.

a moment i despaired,

thought briefly of refusing.

the angel knew i heard.

according to God's Word

i bowed to this strange choosing.

a palace should have been

the birthplace of a king

(i had no way of knowing).

we went to bethlehem;

it was so strange a thing.

the wind was cold, and blowing,

my cloak was old, and thin.

they turned us from the inn;

the town was overflowing.

God's Word, a child so small

who still must learn to speak

lay in humiliation

joseph stood, strong and tall.

the beasts were warm and meek

and moved with hesitation.

the Child was born in a stall?

i understood it: all

Kings come in adoration.

perhaps it was absurd

a stable set apart,

the sleepy cattle lowing;

and the incarnate Word

resting against my heart.

my joy was overflowing.

the shepherds came, adored

the folly of the Lord

wiser than all men's knowing.

- o simplicitas, madeleine l'engle

Chorus, Christmas, & the Coming Lord

This is the weekend of the community chorus concerts, which means I've been singing and singing and singing. This afternoon is the last one, which is kind of bittersweet. I'm looking forward to a little respite for my voice, but I do love singing with the chorus.

The chorus does a spring concert and a winter concert, though the "winter concert" would be better described as a Christmas concert. All of our selections are about Christmas in one way or another. This year we're singing selections from Rachmaninoff's Vespers and Bach's Christmas Oratorio, and a bunch of other stuff including an arrangement of Star in the East with a hammered dulcimer player (it's awesome). But my favorite piece is one by Daniel Gawthrop, called O Come Emmanuel, which the chorus actually commissioned 10 years ago. The music is gorgeous, meaningful to sing, and the text is a poem by Madeleine L'Engle, taken from a collection of her poems called The Ordering of Love: the New and Collected Poems of Madeleine L'Engle (Thanks, Google books!). This poem is the second of her "Three Songs of Mary."

2. O Oriens 

O come, O come Emmanuel 

within this fragile vessel here to dwell.

O child conceived by heaven's power

give me thy strength: it is the hour.

O come thou wisdom from on high;

like any babe, at life you cry;

for me, like any mother, birth 

was hard, O light of earth.

O come, O come thou Lord of might,

whose birth came hastily at night,

born in a stable, in blood and pain

is this the king who comes to reign?

O come, thou Rod of Jesse's stem,

the stars will be thy diadem.

How can the infinite finite be?

Why choose, child, to be born of me?

O come, thou key of David, come

open the door to my heart home.

I cannot love the as a king -

so fragile and so small a thing.

O come thou Day-spring from on high:

I saw the signs that marked the sky,

I heard the beat of angels' wings,

I saw the shepherds and the kings, 

O come, Desire of nations,

be simply a human child to me.

Let me not weep that you are born.

The night is gone. Now gleams the morn!

Rejoice, rejoice, Emanuel.

God's Son, God's Self, with us to dwell.

November = Wool

Well, it's cold out again. Actually, today it's in the 50's, so it's not really that bad yet, but still. I know it's coming. The time change, the darkness descending at 5, the frost in the morning...and the annual flu-like cold that hits me like sledge hammer: they're all here.

I've been out of commission with The Sick since Wednesday night. Mercifully there was no school Thursday, and no call to sub on Friday, so I've been spending a lot of time in bed or on the couch. And while rest is awesome, it gets oooooold after a while. To combat these doldrums?

That's right.

It's time to get CRAFTY.

I won't yammer on and on about how much I love making stuff this time. I wanted a hat. I found a hat pattern, and I made a hat.

How do you not look like a doofus when modeling a hat? I didn't want to look how I really feel, which is like this:

Yeah, that's a bit more accurate.

Anyway, that hat is the product of a good afternoon and evening's worth of work. I laid in bed. I watched the movie Waitress, which has been on my desk for almost a month after its arrival from Netflix in October. It was dark, clever, cute, and worth watching...though it made me want a piece of pie. I'm glad I didn't send it back entirely unwatched, which has happened before. My problem is that I don't usually feel like sitting down to watch an entire movie, especially by myself. I use the instant streaming of Netflix, like, all the time to watch 30 Rock or Veronica Mars or Arrested Development or all these other awesome TV shows. But movies? I dunno. They just require such a time commitment. So what ends up happening? The little red Netflix envelope sits there, starting balefully up at me, until I finally cave and either send it back or carve out a chunk of time to watch. Which becomes surprisingly easy when you can't muster the energy to get out of bed.

Anyway, so I made the hat. I watched Waitress, and I totally watched an entire season and a half of the show  Pawn Stars (also streaming on Netflix, duhhh) while crocheting my little heart out. And can I just say, that show is pretty flipping cool. And addicting. And a major time suck. You turn it on, and they're just these short little 20 minute episodes that are like the Antiques Roadshow, if the Antiques Roadshow said bad words. And suddenly you've watched 10 episodes and you forgot to make dinner (...wait, what?). But it's funny and interesting. And I'm probably going to crawl downstairs to my couch and watch it as soon as I'm done typing this thing. So there.

Under Duress

Oh hi. Remember me? Remember this bloggy mcbloggy thing? I barely do, to be honest - which is evident from my total lack of posts in the last, oh, two months.

UPDATES:
- I have some cool stuff happening starting in January. I'm being purposefully vague. Perhaps unnecessarily so, but WHATEVER. It's my blog. I do what I want.
- Because of the cool stuff, I got to quit my retail job! Which is good. Because it was far away and it was retail, and there's this little thing called "Black Friday" coming up and I don't have to work in a retail job for it anymore. Bullet = dodged.
- I'm trying to get as much teaching in as possible. I taught English today and Friday, and I will again tomorrow! Though tomorrow I'm teaching at the tiny little private Christian school in my county, not the public school I taught in today and Friday.

So there. Changes, quitting, teaching! Also, I'm busy teaching/singing with the (two) high school girls at my church, teaching the high school Sunday school class, learning tons of music for the community chorus, and bouncing around doing fun stuff on the weekends.

I also got a web cam (and a haircut!)

See, I just took that picture! JUST  NOW! And I've been Skyping with everyone, near and far. Well, mostly far. Lindsay and Eric in Florida, Emily in Syracuse, Olivia in Lewisburg, and Whit in England! The internet is awesome.

In summation, further proof that the internet is totally awesome: A baby monkey riding on a pig.

You're welcome.

Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock

I work! As in, I have a job. Not really news, but did I announce that yet? I'm working a retail job part time now, which is actually pretty great, thus far. I'm still in training, but everyone is quite nice, and I'm meeting new people. Young people! People who aren't in my family or my church!

That is kind of a big deal.

The only (kind of) downside is that I'll probably be working a lot of Saturdays. That's a negative since, for the most part, everyone I know works a job that would give them weekends off; having to work on Saturdays means fewer weekends with my teacher friends. But hey, making money? Worth it.

Anyway, on to other things! I've been listening to some good music lately. For starters, there's the obvious: Arcade Fire's The Suburbs. It's good. I'm no Pitchfork reviewer, but take my word for it and give it a spin. Or a download. Or whatever. And while you're deep in the heart of the iTunes store, you might as well go ahead and pick up Mumford & Sons Sigh No More. It's very Avett Brothers-esque, with lots of traditional folk roots and some great spiritual themes.

And now, an album that I consider to be a well kept secret: Anais Mitchell recently released Hadestown, a folk opera (stay with me) based on the myth of Orpheus. In case that doesn't temp you (I can't imagine why not), I'll sweeten the deal: it features Justin Vernon (Mr. Bon Iver himself), Ani DiFranco, Ben Knox Miller (The Low Anthem), Greg Brown, and the Haden Triplets. It's beautifully arranged, musically diverse (think soul, rock, folk, traditional American music, and the like), and rife with poverty, romance, fear, betrayal, sacrifice, and speakeasys. Speakeasys, I say! In Mitchell's words, it is "based on the Orpheus myth, and set in a post-apocalyptic American Depression era" Which, for nerds like me...well, what more could you want? And this is the real deal: they stage it and perform it as a show, not just a concept album. It's really quite gorgeous. Do yourself a favor and listen to it. For more info, you can check out the website.

Finally, one last bit of news! My aunt and uncle just gave me my graduation gift: a beautifully restored antique washstand.

It's chestnut. And gorgeous.

It looks a bit out of place in my Ikea furniture filled room, but when I have a place of my own someday, it will have a home that's a bit more fitting, I'm sure. In the meantime, I'm thinking about making a blanket or something to hang on it. Maybe I'll finally put those little granny squares to good use! ...Maybe.

Green Gardens!

Plants. We got 'em. I wouldn't call myself much of a gardener, per se. I mean, I've done my fair share of planting, weeding, irrigating, and picking, what with growing up on my grandparents' farm, but if you asked me to list my passions and interests, I don't think "Gardening" would make the top 10.

That being said, I enjoy fresh picked produce just as much as the next gal, and let me tell ya, there will be plenty of picking to do soon.

My parents planted a lot of stuff in the garden that rests atop a retaining wall running beside the sidewalk. That's where our little strawberry patch resides, and it's also home to a veritable jungle of plum tomato plants now.

I mean, seriously. We're talking about lots of tomatoes. May I remind you that my parents live two counties over now? My house has two people living in it: my brother and me. In two weeks time, I could literally bathe in tomatoes...if, you know, bathing in tomatoes was a thing. Instead, I'll be eating them. And once I've had my fill, I'll be dumping them into our Squeezo (it's like magic, seriously), making gallons of tomato sauce, and canning it.

Other than plum tomatoes, I gave into the awesome trend of planting some heirlooms. The variety we went with are pineapple tomatoes, and they look beautiful. They're yellow and red striped. I've been baby sitting this one for the last couple of days waiting for it to get ripe:

I'm giving it until the end of today, and then it's MINE. I don't know why I'm so impatient. I'll be getting a lot from the harvest in just a little while.

And to conclude tomato fest 2010, we have one cherry tomato plant that is going nuts. I love cherry tomatoes, so I'm down with this development.

We might get a few. You know, one or two.

We're also in the pepper buisness too! We have plenty of red & yellow bell peppers:

...and a veritable bumper crop of cayenne (which I string up to dry for later use) :

We have zucchini:

And cucumbers!

I'm sorry, did I say cucumbers? I meant The Tiniest Cucumbers Ever. Let me add my finger to the photo for the sake of scale.

Also featured in the garden (but not pictured): broccoli, which has mostly run its course (and is now happily living in my freezer), a cilantro plant that's bolted, allowing me to harvest fresh coriander seeds (some of which I've reseeded to grow more cilantro), a basil bush (not exaggerating), and a flippin' viciously invasive mint plant. I hate that thing.

But hey, what's a garden without the pretty?? People love flowers. Obviously this garden should be no exception. And since we Walkers don't do things half way, take a gander at these flowers:

In the lower garden, marigolds and petunias.

A morning glory plant that seems to be fixated on eating my mailbox:

And sunflowers! Glorious, enormous, sunflowers! They line the garden leading to library next door (and yes, I live next to a library. Now do you understand why I'm a nerd?).

There are also some marigolds in that garden, too.

And this year, the sunflowers yielded some really beautiful varieties beyond the usual yellow ones:

Even the honey bees appreciate them.

So there! That's our garden! And the best part of it all? It's pretty low-maintenance, believe it or not. For one thing, the fact that the gardens are between the sidewalk and the retaining wall means that we don't get any pests (bunnies, deer, etc.) munching on our stuff. Furthermore, since my dad is pretty brilliant, we have a drip irrigation system on a programed timer. There's a pump under the porch that keeps all the gardens watered from water we collect in our underground cistern. It's pretty money, frankly.

And now that I've uploaded a million pictures of my produce, I think I'm going to go eat some. And if you want any tomatoes, you know who to call.