A Year in Review--Merry Christmas from Andy and Marie!

Dear Family and Friends,

2013 has been a very full year for us. New jobs, fun road trips, and a new house! God has been so good to us. Here is a look back on the year.

Our Wedding, November

Tulip Festival, April

Mt. Rainier, July

Our House, October 

Marie

It started out for Marie with a new job as a Montessori Assistant in an Early Childhood Classroom (2-6 year olds). Marie absolutely loved working with the little ones, and fell in love with the Montessori Method. She decided to turn down a full-time position for the following year, however, because she wanted to be able to focus on a new venture—training to become a FertilityCare Practitioner.

She attended the first part of her educational training in Omaha in October, where she was taught by Dr. Hilgers and the other founders of the Creighton Model FertilityCare System. Now she is in the practicum phase of her training, and starting to grow her client base. She is able to help couples who are struggling with infertility or are seeking natural and ethical ways to avoid pregnancy, and also aid women throughout their reproductive years monitor and maintain their reproductive and gynecologic health.

In her spare time, Marie is involved with a variety of ministries at their parish. She takes part in pro-life outreach and helps teach a Montessori-based religious education class. She is also becoming trained to provide Pastoral Care through the Church. From time to time, she writes at merrydreamer.blogspot.com.

Andy

Andy started the year doing contract work for Microsoft.  After getting his certificate in Data Science, he was promoted to another position, a contract with Juniper Networks, while maintaining a supervisory position on his previous work at Microsoft.  He is now working mainly as a database administrator and data analyst for Juniper.

Besides work, Andy keeps busy by playing trumpet in a community Wind Ensemble every Thursday evening.  He is also an active contributor at philosophynews.com where he mainly writes blogs and articles on PhD placement trends in philosophy (thus, combining his interests in philosophy and data analysis).  Andy is actively involved in church activities at their parish in Kirkland, in particular, the Men's Ministry, Youth Confirmation, and the Knights of Columbus.

Andy and Marie

At the beginning of October, we bought a house! It is a split-level, with 4 bedrooms, a spacious backyard, and a covered deck. Andy has enjoyed working on the many upgrades and repairs that come with being a homeowner.  He has installed cabinets, shelves, light switches, air circulating fans, and stairway railings.  He has also added many holes to the walls. Marie has enjoyed (with the help and expertise of her mother-in-law Merrie) planting flowers and vegetables to make the house more beautiful. With all the space, we both have our own “office” and one of the bedrooms is being used as our music room—with a baby grand piano given to us by Grandma Sue.

We took lots of little trips throughout the year, including a trip to Montana in May for a friend’s wedding and an excursion to Mount Rainier. This summer, we spent a few days at the Carsons’ cabin on an island in the Puget Sound.

In November, we celebrated our first anniversary with a trip to Gig Harbor, Washington. It’s a quaint little fishing village in the Puget Sound. Neither of us had been there before, and we enjoyed learning about the local history and eating lots of fish! We stayed at an inn that was situated right on the water. It was a wonderful opportunity to reflect on the blessings of our first year of marriage, and look forward to many more years together.

What does the next year look like so far? For Marie: more FertilityCare Training, writing, playing the piano, and ministry. For Andy: more data analysis, philosophy blogs, trumpet concerts, crab feeds, fish fries, bathroom remodels, and a Superbowl victory for the Seahawks!  We hope ;)

You are all in our thoughts and prayers this Christmas Season. May you have a very happy 2014!

Love and Blessings,

Andy and Marie

Life lately...

...has been crazy busy. Hence no blog posts for almost two months. Lest you believe I've fallen off the face of the earth, I will regale you with some glimpses into the past two months over here.

At the end of September, we moved. That's right. We bought a house. The whole process from start to finish took less than two months. So in Marie time, that's like two seconds passed between Andy and me casually agreeing one night, "Let's start to look for a house" and then being almost entirely moved in (thanks to the help of friends and family).

Flash forward a week later (that's right...A WEEK!), and I flew to Omaha to begin my training to become a FertilityCare Practitioner. I spent a grueling 8 days there, studying with people from all over the country, and the world (12 countries were represented). It was awesome, but exhausting, to be honest.

The day after I got back was Andy's birthday (yay, 27!). Sidenote: Before I left for Omaha, I joked with Andy that he'd have the whole house completely remodeled by the time I got back. Well, he may not have had it completely remodeled, but he did an incredible amount of work, anyway. He found two additional cabinets that look identical to the existing ones at Habitat for Humanity's warehouse and installed them in the kitchen. He moved the refrigerator from its awkward position in the corner to a place where you can actually open the doors all the way. He installed an additional cabinet in the bathroom. Plus, he got rid of these incredibly creepy black hand towel rack and toilet paper holders, and replaced them with normal metal ones. (Why the former owner would ever have installed these, I have no idea. The idea of hands coming out of the wall is just creepy.) He also got rid of some carpet in one of our upstairs closets that must have been original to the house in the 1960s. It reeked of smoke, and frankly made the whole room smell like an ashtray. Andy replaced it with some wood laminate. Since I've been home, he's done a lot more, but that's for another post.

Then we hosted a Halloween Party for some of our friends. We live in a neighborhood with lots of kids, so we figured we should be prepared for trick-or-treaters. Andy and I dressed up as the two main characters from the Dick van Dyke Show, Rob and Laura Petrie, respectively. I have played the part of a 50s housewife at Halloween before, so being a 60s housewife wasn't a huge stretch. Andy tried to comb over his hair to a side part, but his hair is just too short. But he definitely can pull off the tall and lanky look that Dick Van Dyke is known for. Our friends from church, Adam and Caitlin, dressed up as Charlie Brown and Lucy from the Peanuts cartoon, and brought their two little girls: Claire as Snoopy, and their 10-day-old baby Maggie, as Woodstock. One of our traditions is to watch the Peanuts holiday movies, and so it was perfect to watch "The Great Pumpkin" with the characters present! Claire particularly was entranced with the cartoon...and the candy corn on the coffee table. She also liked to go down the stairs, to check out the trick-or-treaters who came to the door.

Last weekend, Andy and I celebrated our first anniversary in Gig Harbor. Neither of us had been there before, so it was a real treat to be touristy together in the quaint fishing community. We stayed in an inn right on the water...our doors led out to a private dock. We ate dinner at the Anthony's there (of course!), which was just a block down from our hotel. The weather turned overnight, and Saturday was blustery and cold. That was our day out and about, but we made the best of it. While we were in the local history museum, the power went out. We were in the middle of watching footage of "Galloping Gertie," the first bridge across the Tacoma Narrows, as it twisted out of control and collapsed. Fortunately the electricity came on a few minutes later, and we were able to resume the film. Afterwards we went to the Heritage Distilling Company, where we tasted several different kinds of whiskey, and then got to take a tour and learn about the distilling process. That evening we ate sushi and drank sake at a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that had been recommended on tripadvisor. It was delicious. :) It was a beautiful weekend, and it was so great to get away from the craziness of life lately.

This week I have been preparing for my first Introductory Session, which is scheduled for November 12 at our church. I will be providing an overview of the Creighton Model FertilityCare System to people interested in natural family planning methods. I have no idea how many people (if any) are coming. I just hope I will be able to say what I need to say...no more and no less!

Well, that's been life lately for us. How are things going for you?

My First Birthday as a Mrs.; My 26th as a Marie

It began with roses.

Twelve red ones the day before my birthday. Andy came home with them after work. “But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow!” I said. He grinned; he had surprised me by being early. The following morning, he let me sleep in (that’s not unusual, I often sleep longer than he does). I awoke to the smell of waffles baking and to the sound of classical music from the radio. {Andy is in charge of making breakfast on the weekends, and he is quite the breakfast chef—waffles, bacon, eggs, pancakes, hashbrowns (made from scratch!), French toast casserole, etc. But this was a weekday!}

Groggy and sleep-headed, I slowly made my way to the dining room. Waffles stacked high, freezer jam and butter to accompany them, tea, apple juice, a present near my plate, two slices of a pear in the shape of a heart on my plate, and the roses he had brought home the night before all awaited my enjoyment.

We savored our breakfast, taking a bit longer than we usually do on a weekday. Andy had given me a beautiful card and two items I had requested (the movie Casablanca and a salad dressing shaker) and one that he had selected (Sabrina, with Harrison Ford). “That’s the version I grew up with,” Andy explained. I had brought the original version of Sabrina (starring Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn) into our marriage. “I thought we could add it to our collection.” 

We got ready for Mass at our parish. Such a great way to start out any day, but especially important ones like birthdays. Afterwards, we stopped and talked with one of our friends. Andy brought me home, and then he went into his “office” and I started studying in my “office.” Andy had arranged to make dinner that night, and I had suggested a recipe that I love and Andy has made before: Kidney Cornbean Pie (thanks, Christina!). That would have been treat enough, but Andy also made Rice Pilaf (a family specialty) and a delicious Waldorf salad.

We then sat down to watch our new version of Sabrina. About halfway through the movie, Andy got up to get some dessert. We had Klondike bars in the freezer, so I assumed that was what he was getting. Well, from the rustling of a paper bag and the striking of a match, I started to wonder if Andy had something else in mind. He came out of the kitchen with a DQ ice cream cake (the “log” version) with one “candle” on top, and started singing Happy Birthday. I made a wish, and blew out the “candle,” which turned out to be a matchstick (Andy realized too late that we didn’t have any birthday candles).

The Birthday Celebrations Continue the Following Day...

The original plan was to celebrate my birthday as well as Andy's Grandpa Dick's birthday (which are both on September 17) at Andy’s family’s favorite restaurant, Anthony's Homeport. Anthony's is basically the best restaurant ever, as it has fresh, awesome seafood, and all of their locations provide stunning waterfront views (and if you're lucky, views of the mountains). We try to go on a weeknight, because before 6 they offer "sunset dinners," which include an appetizer, salad or chowder, a main course, and then dessert, all for about the same price as a normal entree. Delicious and economical? I'm there! 

Unfortunately, Grandpa Dick and his wife Mary couldn't come to dinner with us, as he was feeling under the weather. But very fortunately, our friends Adam and Caitlin and their adorable 18-month-old Claire were able to come instead (and of course Maggie was there too...we can't wait to meet her in the next month or so!). So a good time was had by all (although I'm not sure that Claire was impressed by the whole "gourmet mashed potatoes on a cracker" idea: it ended up on the floor.) 

My mother-in-law Merrie gave me my very own "Today's Your Special Day" plate, which is a tradition in Andy's family. Plus, as she pointed out, this plate can be used on any "special day," not just on birthdays. Oh, the great things you can find at Value Village and Goodwill!

We left the restaurant feeling very full (as usual) but very happy! 

Thank you to everyone who made my day(s) special! From phone calls, thoughtful cards, fun gifts, and quality time, I felt loved and cherished. Here's to another year full of exciting adventures! 

Assumption Pizza

I am a master of the last-minute. Oftentimes, I am only struck with an idea hours (or even minutes) before it needs to be finished. So two Thursdays ago on the Feast of the Assumption, I came across this amazing blog, which provides recipes and other meal ideas for each of the major feasts of the liturgical year. It also has recipe ideas for other not-so-major feasts, like St. Augustine's feast day, which was celebrated yesterday.

Of course, I realized that I didn't quite have time to prepare an Assumption-themed meal since at that point it was already 4 pm, and Andy likes to eat before 9, ideally. (Although, we have eaten after 9:30 in the early days of our marriage, when I was still figuring out our oven). So I decided to go ahead with my original meal plan: homemade Margherita pizza and our friend Julia's Chocolate Mousse pie for dessert (with tofu as a secret ingredient...shhh!!!).

As I was making the pizza, however, inspiration struck. Couldn't I use one of the crusts to do a little Marian-inspired decorating? I had a bunch of little Roma tomatoes that my mother-in-law had graciously given us, plus some pesto that we had made together, and I had bought fresh mozzarella. All the materials I needed to craft a quick Assumption-themed meal! After brushing on some olive oil to the pizza crust, I sliced the tomatoes and used those to form a large "M" in the middle. I then took a pastry brush and painted on a cross above the letter with the pesto. I placed slices of mozzarella around the "M" to look like clouds. And then, (because I wanted the pizza to taste yummy!) I brushed the mozzarella with a lighter coat of pesto. Below is the result:

Before baking (I was a little worried the pesto on the clouds would look weird, but practicality won out in the end)

Ready to Eat! Note: the crust was crisp because it wasn't loaded down with cheese and sauce. It was delicious!

So while  I won't be  submitting this to Catholic Cuisine anytime soon, I think it turned out pretty well for a last-minute variation on my original meal plan. 

And just in case you're interested in how the non-Marian pizza turned out...

Muy Delicioso!

Let me know if you're interested in the recipe for the aforementioned Chocolate Mousse Pie. I took pictures of the process, but the final result picture mysteriously vanished from my camera. But you can ask Andy how it tasted (fantastic!), plus it's full of protein and yummy chocolate goodness, without the dairy. 

Are you more of a stick-to-the-recipe kind of a person or spontaneous and creative (with sometimes disastrous results) in the kitchen, like me?

Fall Already?

It seems that fall has come early this year in Seattle. Rain is pitter-pattering outside, and the few deciduous trees we have are decidedly losing their leaves. I have to admit that I am a bit reluctant to part with summer and all its glory here in the Northwest. I have always loved autumn in the Midwest, but that's because summer can be so miserable. Summer in Seattle, on the other hand, is just plain wonderful. Sunshine, temperatures mostly in the 70s and 80s (I think we had a week or two of temps in the 90s, but that's nothing). And easy access to water. Oh-so-wonderful.

It doesn't help that when I first arrived in Seattle last November, it rained (poured, really) for two weeks nonstop. It was the most depressing welcoming party ever. So I associate the fall in Seattle (probably incorrectly) as being miserable and very WET.

But Andy considers autumn here and elsewhere to be his favorite season, so I'll let you know what my verdict is in the next few months.

But in the meantime, this change in the weather has been a good reminder that I need to write some more blog posts about all the fun we had this summer. So remind me if I forget to write one on our trip to Mt. Rainier and our mini-vacation to Andy's family cabin on the Puget Sound, to name a few.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Take me out to the ballgame...

Andy is on a mission. A mission to 1. get me more interested in sports, and 2. go to professional sporting events with me so that he can 3. have fun and 4. get me more interested in sports. I mostly jest, but I would say that, while Andy is not a sports fanatic, he is a sports fan. He grew up playing soccer, and going to several baseball games each year. My family, on the other hand, had no interest in sports, except as a mere passing cultural interest. "Ah, yes, the baseball game...Americana at its best." So we were lucky if we went to one baseball game every couple years. I could be wrong (sisters, feel free to correct me on this one), but I think I was the most interested in sports of the four of us. As in, I played volleyball in middle school, and actually wanted to go to baseball games during the summer. So, Andy has his work cut out for him.

Take me out to the crowd...

Ready for some baseball!

"I'm really excited..." Andy grinned, a bit sheepishly, as we approached the Safeco Field Baseball Stadium. We joined a mini procession of people--families decked out in baseball caps and shirts with players' names boldly printed on the backs, young couples on a date, and soon-to-be-raucous groups of single thirty-somethings, eager to get inside so they could get some beer. That's one of the really cool things about baseball games--everyone comes. On the big screen, we were introduced to an African American woman who was celebrating her 102nd birthday. "She looks great for 102!" Andy exclaimed. "I hope I look that good when I'm 80" I thought.

We successfully navigated past a young man with a sign warning us to "Repent! and escape Hell-fire," an older veteran, shouting something unintelligible from a megaphone, and scalpers wanting our extra tickets. We sat in the outfield, and in just the right location so that we got the brunt of the setting sun (We shouldn't complain, though, because the days are coming when we will miss the sun!). 

Our actual view. Note the sunlight in the top right corner of the photo.

Zoomed in, and they still look like ants.

Something curious I've noticed about Seattle: during the singing of the national anthem, I saw only one or two people in the crowd placing a hand over their heart. And I think I was the only one singing. Growing up in the Midwest, I remember everyone always placed a hand over his/her heart, in addition to standing and removing one's hat. Is this a dying tradition?

Buy me some peanuts and cracker* jack...

We brought most of our food to the game, because the prices are just plain ridiculous at the stadium. Ten dollars for a cheap beer? You've got to be kidding me. But we did decide to splurge on sharing some funnel cake during the sixth inning. At six dollars, it was worth it!  *Incidentally, I kept on accidentally saying, "Apple Jacks" instead of cracker jacks. Oh well.

I don't care if I never get back...

Yep. We know we're cute.

Baseball games are loooooooong. I always forget this. Fortunately, we brought some cushions to sit on. And they do their best to keep you entertained with songs, and the "wave," and hat tricks. And if you really wanted to, you could just hang out in the beer garden the whole game. We didn't do that, though.

Let me root, root, root for the Mariners, if they don't win it's a shame...

Well, we did our best, really, to support the Mariners. But, c'mon, they only have one player with more than .300 batting average! Sheesh! (Andy tells me that if you have less than .300, you're not very good). I wasn't expecting that we'd win, since the Mariners are notorious right now for being awful. But it was really bad.

For it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball game!

The Mariners were the last to bat, since we were the home team. The score was 1 to 5 at that point, and it was clear that the Mariners had given up. The last batter tried three times to hit a home run (couldn't he just have gotten on base?), and struck out. Those of us who were still left (people started heading out during the 8th inning, when it was clear we weren't going to win), left with heavy hearts.

On our way back to our car, a street performer was playing "Walking My Baby Back Home" on a saxophone. And as we walked, hand in hand, I reflected that a baseball game is more about the experience than winning or losing. And as cheesy as it sounds, making memories with the ones you love.
 

You are welcome!

The Rhythm of My Days

In a conversation with one of my sisters, I realized that I haven't exactly been faithful to my promise to my family and friends that I would be more communicative now that I've been off Facebook. I have been writing blogs, but they've been as my sister put, very "philosophical" and not very informative about my day-to-day goings on here in the Northwest. "I just want to know what you had for dinner last night!", to paraphrase my sister. :)

Now, it wouldn't be very authentic of me to completely nix the philosophical blog posts (after all, the title of this blog is "Merry Dreamer"). So don't expect those to disappear. But, to satisfy at least one dear reader, I will do my best to add some informative blog posts about what's going on way out in this land of mountains and sea. Because it's very exciting and different than anything I have yet experienced in my short life. So, if you get tired of my "newsy" posts, feel free to skip them. Hopefully there is something here for everyone to enjoy...even the philosophers among us.

As I type this blog, I am sitting alone in my apartment. The cool morning breeze pours through the sliding glass door that leads out to our little deck. Andy and I have made it a routine to get up super early on Mondays (5:30 for him, and 5:45 for me) for 6:30 Mass at our parish.

There is something grand about getting up so early. While I am by no means a morning person, I enjoy rising before most, when the air has that scrubbed, squeaky-clean feeling and even the birds are still shaking the dew from their feathers and the sleep from their eyes. And when you get up this early, you sometimes see the most glorious sunrises. Today was one of those days. As we raced towards our cars (we drive separately, so Andy can go to work afterwards), I saw it--peachy-pink and purple streaks across the sky and the dusky blue of "our" mountain. "Look!" I cried, pointing to the morning majesty. Andy and I both grinned, and then were off to Mass.

I am always reminded of my Steubenville days when we go to the early Mass. Rolling out of bed, throwing on clothes, and stumbling across campus to get to the 6:25 Mass with Katherine or household sisters. Although it was hard to get up that early, I always felt like I had a jump start on the rest of the day...even if I went back to sleep afterwards. There is something so simple, so right about starting one's day early, and with prayer. I suppose that is what life is like in the convent or monastery. Simple. Cyclical. Ordered. Beautiful.

I do feel like I am getting into the rhythm of life here in the Northwest. While many things still take me by surprise (like the salty smell of the sea breeze at the Mariners baseball game), I am growing quite fond of my surroundings. Please continue to join me as I navigate through this mysterious land. And keep on dreaming!

Don't Worry. Be Holy.

Storming through his front door, Kevin proclaims boldly to the world (and anyone who's listening in his ritzy neighborhood) “I’m not afraid anymore. Do you hear me? I’m not afraid anymore!” A few seconds later, he sees his ominous neighbor and this is his reaction:

Well, that was long-lived, Kevin.

That scene from the movie Home Alone just about has me covered. I often make half-hearted and soon to be forgotten resolutions and promises, usually centered around how I’m going to stop worrying and start living. Carpe diem. Seize the fish, et cetera. And then I stop typing and start living in this world of ours. Which, quite frankly, is scary. Beautiful, yes. Awe-inspiring? You bet. But not an easy or comfortable place for scaredy-cats like me and Kevin.

What, you may ask, am I so scared of? Well, I could list of more than a double dozen of things that make my hands clammy and my insides turn flippety-flop. But it all boils down to these three things: 1. Death 2. the Unknown and the worst one of them 3. The fact that the when and how of Death is Unknown.

Two stories to illustrate my point.

Story Number One: The other day, my friend Caitlin told me about a cool Catholic college in Wyoming. It’s a traditional Catholic school with an outdoor education focus. Well, if you know me (and you probably do since you’re reading this), you know that I love all things Catholic and I love outdoor, experiential education. So I decided to check out their website for more information. As I was perusing the home page, I was surprised to see an article about the funeral arrangements for one of their students. On the way back from her freshman year at Wyoming Catholic College, Christine and her family stopped to do some hiking in the natural beauty near Moab, Utah. A few seconds before her death, her family snapped a picture of her, atop a craggy bluff in a pose of joyful triumph. Here was this girl in the prime of her life, and suddenly without warning, she was gone. (The ground literally caved in where she was standing, and she fell to her death).

Story Number Two: Around the same time, I revisited a story about a young Italian Catholic woman named Chiara, who, after carrying two babies with fatal abnormalities to full term, was diagnosed with cancer while she was carrying her third (and it turns out healthy) baby. She postponed treatment until after her baby was born, and passed away about a year later. To read her story and to hear her speak (she gave her testimony after the birth of her first child), with such faith in the midst of such great loss and suffering is very moving. (Warning: both will make you cry).

Isn't she absolutely gorgeous? Holiness does that.

What were my reactions to these stories? I was sorry. But more revealingly, I was scared. Scared because these women were young. They were good. And they were more prepared for their death than I am.

But something else I took away from both of these stories was their zest for life. Both were tragically cut short, but both lived their lives in such a way that they made those short years count. Plus, just because I worry and take ridiculous precautions doesn’t mean I will add one year, one day, one millisecond to my life. After all, doesn’t Jesus remind us of this truth?

“For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 

(Matthew 6:25-33)

And honestly, even if it did, do I want to live a life of safety, timidity, and only-do-something-when-you know-no-risks-are-involved? No.

So I will try once more. To set out courageously. “No holds barred!” as my friend Katherine’s almost three-year-old proclaims in his Davy Crockett coonskin cap. To live each day that God grants to me without the extra “what ifs?” and “I can’ts.” And maybe next year, when my husband asks me to go skiing with him, I won’t imagine a million ways I will die an early death (as in losing control and careening wildly down a mountain into a forest of Douglas Firs). I’ll just say, “I’m not afraid anymore. Do you hear me? I’m not afraid anymore!” And try my best to mean it.

More Stuff, More Nonsense

{or Why I Settle for Less}

I spent a good portion of yesterday writing the beginnings of blog posts (I think I wrote three false starts). It is so hard to get over my perfectionism...in more areas than just my blog.

For the past week, I have been vacationing at my husband's cabin on the Puget Sound. The first day or so was spent making the cabin inhabitable. One of my tasks during this deep-cleaning adventure was to clean out one of the refrigerators, and free it from mold and grime. As I was busying myself about this project, my mother-in-law came by and mentioned with concern: "It doesn't have to be perfect." I breathed a sigh of relief. She had given me permission to just do my best, and then (as my theology teacher used to say) give it a rest.

My perfectionism applies to other everyday tasks. I have my list of things to do, like everyone else. But I also have all of the expectations that are attached to each item. I know I need to send back that muffin tin with the cracked lid back to Amazon. But I don't have a box readily available, so I leave it in stasis until I have the time to look for one. Or at least, that's what I tell myself. In reality, I will probably leave it there on the floor by my desk until Monday morning when I am frantically getting ready to bring it by UPS on my way back from 6:30 AM Mass. I trick myself into believing I save myself time by all of this stalling, and leaving-until-later behavior. But deep down (and in moments of rare clarity) I know the truth.

St. Ignatius knew the truth, too. Procrastination in the Devil's tool:

"We should never postpone a good work, no matter how small it may be, with the thought of later doing something greater. It is a very common temptation of the enemy to be always placing before us the perfection of things to come and bring us to make little of the present."

And that's the key: this summer I have been trying my hardest to fight the urge to "make little of the present." Instead, as my dear friend Katherine said in her blog today, I need to make more of the present. Be more. 

So why is it that we often settle for less? I think perhaps the answer for me is: because I am scared that if I give my all to something or someone, I will fail anyway.

But, knowing my fears and limitations, I will press on. For me, the smallest actions are sometimes the greatest victories. Cleaning up right away after dinner, instead of waiting for a time when I feel like it (never!). Tucking my chair in when I leave the table. Completing tasks before moving on to the next one (so hard!). The answer lies in simplicity and order, I think. The rest falls into the category of stuff and nonsense.

Domestic Adventures: Quiche Lorraine

One reason I’m so reluctant to bake is that I get pretty poor results (almost) every time I try. Case in point: the crust on this Quiche Lorraine*. I followed the recipe,** word for word (I even chilled the shortening before adding it). But try as I might, I couldn’t roll the dough out as requested. All of the fat…er butter and shortening…kept sticking to the cutting board, the rolling pin, my hands, pretty much everything but the crust itself.

So I finally formed two balls of dough with my hands and flattened them out in each pie pan.

Here are the results:

Yeah, I was disappointed, too. So I’m not sure what I did wrong…except maybe some of the crust got left behind on the cutting board, etc. Also I used all wheat flour. Maybe that affected the consistency?

The filling was easy enough. I combined six eggs, 2 cups of evaporated milk, 2 cups of almond milk, 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese (recipe called for swiss), ½ t. salt, dash of pepper, and a dash of nutmeg. I added 1 onion, chopped and sauteed, and about ½ cup of diced ham (from some lunch meat).

The only thing that made me a bit nervous about the filling was that when I poured it into the pie crusts, the filling easily covered the edges of the pie crust. Since I was worried about the possibility of overflowing during the baking process, I put a cookie sheet on the rack below the pie pans.

In case you were wondering, a watched quiche (much like the famed pot of liquid) never bakes.

If you listen closely enough you will hear, “Stop wasting your time looking through the oven window, wondering when I’ll be ready to eat. I still need another 25 minutes to cook. So go read or something. Or write about me on your blog…”

Honestly it’s only my vanity that is concerned about how the quiche looks. I am much more concerned about how it will taste. (Especially since it’s almost six o’clock and I’m starving).

Ah, the timer is going off. The moment of truth has come. How did it turn out?

Well, in typical Master of Philosophy form, this was my husband's reaction to seeing the quiche:

M: Okay, Andy, time to pick which one we'll tonight. The other one we'll throw away (sarcasm).

A: Oh, honey, why? That would be wasteful! 

A: Is there any difference between the two?

M: Nope. Same ingredients. Just pick which one looks good to you.

A: This reminds me of the philosophical problem of Buridan's Ass (Proceeds to explain that in the scenario, a donkey sits between two identical bales of hay and must choose which one to eat. Seeing no difference between them, he can't choose. So he starves to death).

M: I see. Are you suggesting that we, like Buridan's ass, just stare at these two delicious quiches until we starve?

A: No...(still not sure which one to pick)

M: This one is darker.

A: Okay, let's eat it!

But once we sat down, and took our first bites, the verdict was clear. Delicious! A+! And if you don't believe me, ask my husband, who ate FOUR helpings. 

I think he likes it. 

*Recipe came from the More-with-Less cookbook by Doris Janzen Longacre

**For your sanity and mine, I didn't describe all the steps of the recipe. If you are interested in it, I can either send it to you, or you can purchase your very own copy of More-with-Less (I highly recommend it!).

A Renewed Effort (and one of the reasons I left Facebook)

As some of you may know, I am in the process of deleting my Facebook account. (For more info on that, read this article). That being said, I do not desire to communicate less with those whom I hold dear. On the contrary, I hope that leaving Facebook will encourage me to be more communicative. One of the reasons I stopped writing for awhile was because I wanted to focus on living  in the present moment. An inherent problem in writing, as I saw it then, was that it involved constantly looking back, reliving past moments. I didn't want to be writing about other people's exciting adventures, I wanted to have my own!

Perhaps the greatest irony of this attitude was that, instead of writing (in my blog or journal or letters, etc), I wasn't living. No. I had chosen to spend a lot of my time on Facebook. Oh, I spent so much time on there! Six years of my life have been spent (wasted?) updating my account, adding pictures, crafting pithy status updates, scrolling endlessly through information about people I hardly knew. In short, I was doing anything but writing.

So what do I have to show for all that effort? Not a whole lot, actually. So, in an effort to live more AND write more, I am going to focus on this blog. What will I be writing about? I'm not sure. This blog has always been a patchwork quilt of sorts, based on my varied interests. But I do hope to document my life here in the Northwest, from the perspective of a born-and-raised Midwesterner.

So here's to a renewed effort on my part. I hope this is an enriching experience for me, and for all my readers.

Begging Him to Leave

I've started reading the New Testament again. I read a bit every day and (as of yesterday), I decided to write a verse down that particularly stood out to me, and then write a reflection about it. I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing today's with you. You don't mind? Oh, good.

"...the whole town came out to meet Jesus, and when they saw him they begged him to leave their district." Matthew 8:34

Life with Jesus is hard. Hard because your life ceases to be your own. No longer can the things of this world be the end-all-be-all. Jesus demands that we leave everything behind when we follow him. Even family attachments have to come second when we answer his call. This puts us at odds with this world and beyond its comprehension. It's almost as if the world is saying, "We like you, Jesus, we really do. But would you tone down things a bit?"

In Matthew 8, Jesus has just driven out two demons--and at the same time made it safe again for people to travel in that area. He should be praised as a hero, like Theseus or Hercules were when they vanquished monsters. But he allowed the demons to possess a herd of swine--which caused them to plunge into the sea, where they drowned. So, driving out demons? Good. A bunch of drowned pigs? Bad.

Thanks, but no thanks, Jesus.

When Jesus starts messing with our livelihood...our stuff, we don't like it. "Just leave us alone!", we cry. Leave us with our problems, our weakness, our sin. We can live with that. But challenge our beliefs, our worldview, or way of life? Never. In fact, our response to Jesus is the same as Jesus' response to the demons: "Leave, get out!"

Jesus asks nothing short of everything. Our entire beings. And in this world, those who follow him will appear very foolish. But when we give him our everything, he transforms us. He gives us everything we need in this life. And everything we desire in the next.

Go ahead. Call me foolish. But I'm sticking with him.

What is holding you back from giving everything to Christ?

Riding the Bus

You meet the most interesting people while waiting for the bus. That is, if you look up long enough from your phone or book. He was wearing a construction orange and yellow vest and baggy pants.

"Did you see the concert last night?" he asked, without filling in the usual context of whose concert and where. Turns out it was a benefit concert for the most recent devastating natural disaster.

"Even the vampire girl was there...Kristin Scott Thomas."
"Kristin Stewart?" I prompted.
"Oh yeah. I can never remember her name. She flew out all the way from LA to New York so she could introduce Bon Jovi."
"It was for a good cause." I suggested.
"Yeah, I had no idea how bad they were affected."

When we spoke he looked directly into my eyes and stood still. When we weren't speaking, he was constantly moving, shifting his weight from one foot to another, like a raptor anticipating his next meal or like an ice skater. Every now and then he would shuffle his feet like he was dancing to a tune stuck in his head. I half-expected him to burst out into a Gene Kelly inspired rendition of "Gotta Dance."

A few moments passed as he looked at the bus route. "You could go just about anywhere from here."

I smiled and agreed.