Holy Smokes are Winners!

Holy Smokes of St. Jude have done it again -- taken first prize for chicken, ribs, and People's Choice and third prize for pork shoulder!

Thanks to all our Knights!




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Followers and Friends

It being summer and all, I've not checked out some blogs, but realized they were still on my "follow" list. A while back, when I discovered the follow feature, I thought it would somehow be an easier way to read everything I wanted to read, but the better way is to have an RSS feed. The follow feature is independent of it. I hate clutter and redundancies so decided to "unfollow" everybody. This was no easy feat because there was no such button ... I did find it eventually buried under the features of the blogs I follow.

I can't believe how cantankerous I am. I don't like words like "friend" or "follow" when all you're doing is reading someone's blog. What's wrong with "reader"? I only have a handful of friends, the rest being acquaintances or colleagues, and so I like to reserve the term "friend" for those special people. And as to follow, I only want to follow Jesus Christ. Words are so important to me, and when people use them casually, it irritates me. I won't go into turning verbs into nouns and vice versa ... they grate on my ears, even though I know language is always evolving.

Anyway, I got rid of the "follow" thingie on my blog as well because it makes no sense to me. Besides, my paltry numbers (20 or so) make me feel terribly unpopular (not that it's anything new). Nathan Bransford as 4,000+ followers. Wow! But I wonder how many of those followers actually read his posts. I was reading his stuff for a while when I was considering getting an agent and even entered one of his contests, but what's the point of saying I follow him when I am no longer reading his blog? Sorry Nathan, if you're reading this. When I am ready to look for an agent, I will most likely go back to reading his posts because they are full of agent-wisdom.

I've seen many contests lately about collecting more followers. I must be the only person on this planet who doesn't get it. Can someone enlighten me? For me blogging is about making a connection with my readers, and I enjoy the company and community of those who are sincere. But this entire "friends" and "followers" business feels more like a popularity contest than anything else. It's high school all over again ...

And now I'll probably lose the 20-odd followers and the 5 or so friends I do have ... but that's okay. I really am a crankypants. I'm nothing if honest.

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Kittens

Meet the newest members of our family. They are nearly three months old, a brother-sister pair we found at our local shelter. The other critters have not met them yet but we will introduce them slowly, one by one. They know something's up! There's been a lot of sniffing beneath the door of my daughter's bedroom, which is officially the kitten room ... and guess who's sleeping with the kittens tonight?

Happy sigh. It reminds me of the time when we brought our second cat home. The first one is fiercely attached to me, so my husband slept in the guest room with the kitten. A week later, they were both in bed with us, and the kitten's size and weight mirrored my son's growth in my womb. The kitten spent many hours on my growing belly and I could imagine how big my baby would be. Turns out the kitten grew faster ... My son was 8 lbs at birth and the kitten 10 lbs when she was 9 mo. old. Here's a picture of her checking out the new baby. Oh, how quickly they all grow up ... both the kids and the critters.

Let the chaos begin!

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Reading and Writing

I just finished Escaping the Tiger by Laura Manivong, based upon her husband's years in a refugee camp. It is not an easy read. I cried several times, but they were tears of understanding -- I, too, have had an empty belly, been called a dog and told to go home, and even in the face of huge disappointments, stayed optimistic. These characters rang so true for me, I felt as though I could sit and share sticky rice with peppers with them. I laughed near the end when they marvel at the beautiful, white, dimpled flesh of Americans. I remember wanting to be fat like that too (and now I am).

This book will resonate not just with refugees, but with all people who have no home, who have been marginalized by society simply because of the culture they were born in, and who keep faith and hope alive and survive. Our country is so much richer for people like Troy (Laura's husband) and Laura, who take the time and the trouble to tell their stories.

My son is devouring this book right now and ever since I told the kids that I *know* the author via the Blueboards, that this book is based upon her husband's childhood, they are mightily impressed.

I'm also reading the Collected Works of Flannery O'Connor. It includes letters and essays as well and I am in awe of this woman who took a great deal of time to encourage others, even though she was gravely ill and dying from lupus.

Here's a quote from Mystery and Manners: People without hope do not write novels. Writing a novel is a terrible experience, during which the hair often falls out and the teeth decay. I'm always highly irritated by people who imply that writing fiction is an escape from reality. It is a plunge into reality and it's very shocking to the system. If the novelist is not sustained by a hope of money, then he must be sustained by a hope of salvation, or he simply won't survive the ordeal.

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A Writing Retreat

So, I alluded that I had some extra time last week. That's because the children were with their grandparents. We live in the suburbs, so a rural setting is quite the change -- a large garden to weed and pick from, a tractor to ride, movies to watch. The kids had a grand time and I was grateful for the gift of time.

And never will I complain about not having enough time to write because this whole week, although I had the time, I still only spent only a couple of hours each day on my writing (ahem, half of it was in day-dreaming) and the rest in other activities. I cooked wicked spicy Indian food, read a lot, played the piano, prayed the rosary, danced along with a dance video, took long walks, and even had a date night with my husband -- dinner at a Thai place followed by Ironman 2 (I love all these movies based on the old Marvel characters). It gave me a taste of what it's going to be like when the kids fly the nest. Quiet, but nice.

Which got me thinking about writing retreats, where all your needs are taken care of so that you only need write. The funny thing is that when you most need this sort of time, you have to have child-care if your spouse cannot take time off from work. And by the time the kids are grown, you don't really need it ... because you can create your own retreat at home. Don't be like me, though ... I enjoy too many other things besides writing.

I am very, very lucky that I won a couple of scholarships to writing workshops before my children started school because once they did, I've not wanted to be away from them for too long. Our time together is short ...
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Banana Splits and Fireworks

Sharing some pictures from my son's perspective.

Grandma made decadent banana splits nearly every night.

Our dog ran like the wind on the large property.

Why is fire so mesmerizing?

Cars, cars and more cars!

Grandpa sings in a barbershop choir, The An-O-Chords, and this was their old car.

I think this is a P3 -- Sound of Freedom.

It was freezing out on the beach so my daughter and I opted not to go to the fireworks. We cuddled in bed instead.

I hope you're all enjoying your summer. Finally, finally, we have sunshine and I have our clothes and bedsheets and pillowcases flapping in the breeze. A strawberry-rhubarb sauce is simmering that I'll freeze ... to have later this afternoon.

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Abwoon D'Bashmaya

Testing YouTube embed feature. I have the words below for singing along. I can sing it halfway before having to look them up. I can't explain why it makes me feel so good to be able to say these words ... I think in English, for heaven's sake! The translation of each phrase is a couple of posts down ...




Abwûn d'bwaschmâja
Nethkâdasch schmach
Têtê malkuthach.
Nehwê tzevjânach aikâna d'bwaschmâja af b'arha.
Hawvlân lachma d'sûnkanân jaomâna.
Waschboklân chaubên wachtahên aikânadaf chnân schwoken l'chaijabên.
Wela tachlân l'nesjuna
ela patzân min bischa.
Metol dilachie malkutha wahaila wateschbuchta l'ahlâm almîn.
Amên.

Magazine Good News

My story, Surprise Squash, made the cover of Our Little Friend in the June 2005 issue and is going to be reprinted sometime in 2011. And Highlights is considering my fiction contest story for regular purchase ...

I'm writing again, as in productively, on my novel, instead of just free writing. I'm so close to the end and yet so far away. Still haven't made it to the climax ... my main character is discovering something about herself, which I had not planned when I wrote the outline. I'm trying to get out of the way and I am enjoying watching the story unfold in my head. Too bad it gets mangled on paper in the process. But that's what revisions are for.

I've had some extra time on my hands this week so not only have I cleaned house thoroughly, I've spiffed up my blog and cleaned up all the labels. You like?

I can't believe it's almost the end of June. Where is the warm weather? Oh, it's very pleasant, but I want to feel the heat. I want to know it's summer. Thankfully the salmonberries and huckleberries in the woods are loaded ... our usual 40-min walk easily translates to an hour as we stop to pick and eat and pick and eat. It's a great treat after lunch or dinner. But Wind, won't you chase Cloud, so that we can have our Sunshine?

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This Gorgeous Game

Donna Freitas' This Gorgeous Game opens with a provocative quote from Thomas Merton: I simply have no business being [in] love and playing around with a girl, however innocently ... After all I am supposed to be a monk with a vow of chastity and though I have kept my vow -- I wonder if I can keep it indefinitely and still play this gorgeous game!

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At first I thought, oh no, a sex-abuse-by-clergy story. I've read about the scandals in the newspapers. It makes my heart hurt because the deepest trust is violated.

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But from the very beginning I was drawn to what Olivia had to say. This wonderful writer-priest, her idol, is giving her attention, telling her she has a gift from God. The story unfolds and I was reminded of my college days, how smart and pretty young things were given lavish attention by professors, but they didn't know how to stop it without hurting the professor, the very person who is supposedly helping them. This happens in every spectrum of the teaching world, be it religious or secular.

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I loved the chapter headings, the division of the book into three parts with quotes from Merton, and most of all the gorgeous writing. Kudos to Ms. Freitas for writing about this sensitive subject without condemning the Catholic Church. The priest is flawed. People forget that priests are human. Just like some mothers are terrible and abuse their children does not make motherhood an evil institution. Likewise with the Catholic church. A few bad priests cannot change what the Catholic Church is -- the Bride of Christ.

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I will leave you with Matthew 16:18: And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

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Father's Day, Wives and Husbands

I am blessed to have a good husband. He is a kind and loving man who provides for our family and is a great example to the children. My son is learning how to be a man and my daughter is learning what kind of a man she ought to give her heart to. I honor, respect and yes, obey, him, even. When we were married, I made a conscious choice to defer to him if we had any disagreements. I told myself I'd only fight if he were wrong about something. And this decision has served us well. Oh, we still end up having stupid fights once in a while, like who should clean out the cat box, but they're so dumb we end up laughing. The unexpected consequence of deferring to my husband is that he always takes my wishes into consideration. And I'm not shy about letting him know what I need or want.

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So earlier this year, when I was reading the Bible and came across these verses (1 Cor 11:1-11) on veiling yourself to show obedience to your husband, I decided to cover my head in church. I grew up in a culture where women typically cover their heads during prayer. And the Muslim women were always covered. So this was not strange for me. My mother always pulled the palloo of her sari over her head in church. The Catholic church doesn't say that married women should or shouldn't use a veil, but I feel compelled to. There is an interesting shift in my mind as I cover myself. There is a cocooning effect for one. I can fix my eyes more easily on Jesus and be less distracted by others around me. And it is to honor, respect and humble myself before my Lord and my husband that I veil myself.

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Here is a short passage for wives in Ephesians 5:22-24.

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Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

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It is not popular in our culture to submit to anybody. But consider the responsibilities of the husband as well in Eph. 5:25-32.

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Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body.

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Read these excellent reflections on marriage and on fatherhood by Msgr. Pope.

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