Yesterday, I experienced a slew of miracles. Well, not what you might consider miracles, but pure moments of blessing and connection and awareness of God’s participation in my day. And they all involved people.
I set off early for an emotionally loaded day-long task – to collect remaining items from the house my family has just left, without intention of human interaction. Instead, I had a series of beautiful encounters with people, and every single one of them strengthened me and reassured me that no matter where we go, God presents opportunities to give and receive love. Sometimes with people we’ve known for decades, and sometimes with people we’ve never met. Even though I am leaving the community in which I have lived for 16 years, I know that it continues, it comes with me, and it will meet me in my new place.
I dropped by a friend’s house unexpectedly, and she welcomed me in. Her daughter gleefully dragged me to the back yard to see her new playhouse. I felt so honored that this child invited me into her world. I kicked off my shoes, climbed the ladder, and marveled at the Christmas tree installed in the tiny little room. I’m a fifty year old woman, but felt like I’d been invited to be eight again. I gazed out over the neighborhood gardens, then climbed across the rope netting and slid down the twirly slide. Then I went inside and joined her mom for tea, heard from her brother about Christmas gifts he’d made, and met their grandparents. And I felt so blessed and welcomed and connected.
Later that afternoon I prepared for the long drive back, after finishing some very hectic and dirty work. My neighbor across the street invited me to meet her newborn son and her mother visiting from Mexico. I was embarrassed at how dirty and harried I looked, but I went over. To admire this exquisite sleeping infant, embrace his proud and excited young mother, and talk about faith and community in Spanish with her lovely mother I’d never met before, standing there in my dusty sweaty clothes... It was humbling and wonderful.
The whole day was like that. My 92 year old Buddhist neighbor who sent me off with a “Merry Christmas!”; the phone conversation as I drove home with a friend of 35 years; a rose in my car from a long-time “sister” who has been present through our decision to move and through whom we were led to the house we are settling into; the millions of people on the roads and highways all trying to get home and ready for the holidays. God filled my world with people, and if I’m paying attention, I recognize what an amazing potential gift each of them is.
In the church, we use the word “communion” in several ways, without recognizing that they are the same meaning. Some refer to the bread and wine as “communion” – if they haven’t received the elements, they “haven’t had communion”. Some refer to the mystical union between God and human as “communion” – an experience of an individual relationship with the divine. Some refer to a “communion” as a specific subset of people, which implies exclusion of someone – “the Anglican communion”, or the “communion of the baptized”. And it’s such a rarefied word, so “set apart”, so “Sunday best”. The image I have of Jesus, however, is of God connected. With everyone and everything. Jesus creates relationship like German and Mexican grandmothers bake cookies. He shows up in community, a much better meaning for “communion”. Nothing polished, no fancy clothes, no qualification of who “rates” love, no language or ethnicity or condition of life to be rejected. Each week we accept a wide open invitation to share bread and wine together because God showed up in person to see to it that we knew Him well enough to adore him, and each other. That’s a meal I will never tire of sharing -- with you.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Friday, March 12, 2010
Morning
I rise before dawn to sit with God in the water and say goodnight to the stars. Thick clouds roll in from the southwest, bringing rain for this afternoon. A white-hot sliver of moon kisses my eye and climbs quickly behind the gray, and where the sky peeks through, my personal shade of blue pales into the one the birds prefer. The moon has gone, but rosy clouds and lightening skies assure me the sun still shines. The callas and the tulips knew all along, and smile good morning.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
An old cowboy tipped his hat to me today
An old cowboy tipped his hat to me today, and with that silent act of grace he blessed my day. A quiet man, sitting out to watch the sky, frost still on the grass of his mother’s suburban home. She died last week, at 92, and we are the keepers of her stories. He has stories too, though I don’t know them. I only know my friend loved her son, and that is enough to be his friend.
Lee’s a poet, and a cowboy, complete with the Marlboro and the match. He’s here from Rocklin to bid Lillian goodbye, and Sandy, a mustang he has gentled, waits for his return. His Rocklin used to be open pastures and bright blue sky, but it has changed. I was just there this past weekend. Now it’s full of new houses and new stores, and busy families just trying to make their way. Trying to live their stories out, learning to love and forgive and tell the truth, just as Lillian and Al did here so many years ago. I am grateful for these new stories too, and the privilege of witnessing them. Regular folks in the heroic quests of life. A young man valiantly making his way through the high school play even though he’s lost his voice – which spoke louder than words to me. Others snort coke at the corner before their college classes begin – if that gets them through class, what will get them through life? What will their stories be – and who will hear them?
Lee will go north after we celebrate Lillian’s life and friendship, bound not for Rocklin, but North Dakota, taking his parents home in small boxes. This is likely to be his final quest. His own health is not very good. He’s found peace, though, and grace to share. I’m just glad I stopped to say “Hi”, and sorry that I did not have more time, to hear his stories, and see his sky. I was rushing off all too quickly, off to work, where I love children and teach them to love stories.
Lee’s a poet, and a cowboy, complete with the Marlboro and the match. He’s here from Rocklin to bid Lillian goodbye, and Sandy, a mustang he has gentled, waits for his return. His Rocklin used to be open pastures and bright blue sky, but it has changed. I was just there this past weekend. Now it’s full of new houses and new stores, and busy families just trying to make their way. Trying to live their stories out, learning to love and forgive and tell the truth, just as Lillian and Al did here so many years ago. I am grateful for these new stories too, and the privilege of witnessing them. Regular folks in the heroic quests of life. A young man valiantly making his way through the high school play even though he’s lost his voice – which spoke louder than words to me. Others snort coke at the corner before their college classes begin – if that gets them through class, what will get them through life? What will their stories be – and who will hear them?
Lee will go north after we celebrate Lillian’s life and friendship, bound not for Rocklin, but North Dakota, taking his parents home in small boxes. This is likely to be his final quest. His own health is not very good. He’s found peace, though, and grace to share. I’m just glad I stopped to say “Hi”, and sorry that I did not have more time, to hear his stories, and see his sky. I was rushing off all too quickly, off to work, where I love children and teach them to love stories.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thus the Monkey Paints the Mona Lisa
Ok, so I'm crazy. And this is what my dining room wall looks like right now.
After years of meaning to put a mural on that wall, and "knowing just what it should look like" but not having a specific image, I have boldly stepped out into space and started painting on the wall. It will reveal itself. John is away for three days. As he left for the airport, he was nervously amused that I was painting the upper half of a freshly primed wall blue. That was the easy part. I'm going in stages here, and today's stage was geology. I'm not crazy about the green mountain to the center right, but it's growing on me. If ever in my life I had a chance to move a mountain, today's the day!
Tomorrow, we shall make the vegetation...
In the morning, my gal-pals will come over, and they are kind enough not to laugh. They are more talented than I. I'm just crazy enough to paint on my wall without a clue (or training). Can you tell? Tee hee.
This is actually very fun, and what's the worst that could happen? If it reeks, and it won't, I can just paint over it.
Monday, February 2, 2009
25 Things About Me
I put this together because several of my nefarious friends tagged me on Facebook. Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. For what it's worth, this is what I came up with.
1. If 15-20 years ago you had described who I am today to who I was then, I would have laughed.
2. I am married to the finest man I know. We’ve been through hell together. We think completely differently and agree about very little. He really is the best gift I’ve ever been given. I met him in Moscow (but he's American).
3. I have four kids – two bio, two adopted. They are all spectacular, and completely unalike. Each has their own way of making me crazy.
4. By the time I graduated from college, I had moved 13 times, living in 8 countries, on 5 continents.
5. I have been able to speak English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese well, German and Russian poorly, get by in Italian, and curse in Chinese and Arabic. At this point, everything’s rusty – must travel more.
6. Presently, I edit for two leadership consulting firms, and do almost full-time lay ministry within the Episcopal Church. A very non-traditional Episcopal church.
7. Faith (not dogma) is my interpretive filter. My faith is compiled from many influences and dialogues, and although I am a committed Christian, I have a great deal of respect and gratitude for other traditions. Our God loves diversity, as well as unity.
8. When we lived in Arlington, I took my tiny sons to witness firsthand the inaugurations of two presidents. I really wish I could have taken all my children to witness and applaud the inauguration of President Obama this year.
9. I am a happy dilettante in several hobbies: weaving; machine and hand knitting; spinning; and organic gardening. I belong to several guilds just to learn from some incredibly talented people. I love color and texture.
10. My vices are books, yarn, and plants. I ask for horse manure for my birthday and Christmas, but somehow no one takes me seriously.
11. I dye my hair. I think I’m missing my opportunity to have stunning “salt and pepper” hair. I just have salt and pepper roots.
12. When I was 15, on a ranch in Argentina, I was on a runaway horse and rescued by a gorgeous gaucho named Guenther. Fact.
13. My senior year in high school in Brazil, I applied to only one school (UC-Berkeley) and was accepted. My parents panicked, and “asked” me to find somewhere else. My classmate Julio Castellanos had visited William & Mary and said it was beautiful in the snow. So I ended up at William & Mary.
14. While in college, my summer jobs were at the National Zoo, managing (people)food service stands.
15. In 2000, I had cancer and my thyroid was removed. I went from being a first soprano to a tenor. I still haven’t adjusted. I also can’t yell really loud anymore, which is probably a good thing.
16. I knew I was meant to adopt children when I was 6 years old. We didn’t actually do so until 33 years later. Everything in the interim was preparatory.
17. I want to turn our suburban house into a micro-farm, including a few chickens. Don’t tell John.
18. I have one brother. He’s turned out pretty well.
19. I like to get lost. My kids laugh about it, and it drives my husband crazy. You see and learn a lot more by getting lost. I don’t drive around aimlessly, but I’m quite comfortable not always knowing where I am and what time I’ll reach my destination.
20. Each year I take a large group camping in Big Sur for a week. Very low on amenities, very high on fun. The ones who can’t handle the camping leave after dinner and stay in a nearby inn. I hang out with great cooks, and we always eat very well.
21. Five years ago I left Big Sur for a camping road trip through the Pacific Northwest, with my children and two additional kids. Then a friend and her two kids joined us, then another, then another family. By the time we reached Seattle we were 16 people in four cars. We made it to Victoria, Vancouver, Whistler and back, and are all still speaking to each other. I transported friends' children across national borders without passports or notes from their parents -- can't do that anymore!
22. I believe in generosity as a spiritual practice. Tipping and giving things away is important. It’s not ours anyway.
23. I know the power of a good teacher and a positive word. In 1976, Geri de Souza told me that I was an effective writer, and I have believed it ever since. Thank you, Geri.
24. I am more of a student now than I was in high school, college or grad school. I love to read, and I love to dive into new information and figure out how it intersects with, or challenges, what I’ve encountered before.
25. I am allergic to mangoes, apparently because I ate more than my share. I guess that’s fair, but I still wish I could have more.
1. If 15-20 years ago you had described who I am today to who I was then, I would have laughed.
2. I am married to the finest man I know. We’ve been through hell together. We think completely differently and agree about very little. He really is the best gift I’ve ever been given. I met him in Moscow (but he's American).
3. I have four kids – two bio, two adopted. They are all spectacular, and completely unalike. Each has their own way of making me crazy.
4. By the time I graduated from college, I had moved 13 times, living in 8 countries, on 5 continents.
5. I have been able to speak English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese well, German and Russian poorly, get by in Italian, and curse in Chinese and Arabic. At this point, everything’s rusty – must travel more.
6. Presently, I edit for two leadership consulting firms, and do almost full-time lay ministry within the Episcopal Church. A very non-traditional Episcopal church.
7. Faith (not dogma) is my interpretive filter. My faith is compiled from many influences and dialogues, and although I am a committed Christian, I have a great deal of respect and gratitude for other traditions. Our God loves diversity, as well as unity.
8. When we lived in Arlington, I took my tiny sons to witness firsthand the inaugurations of two presidents. I really wish I could have taken all my children to witness and applaud the inauguration of President Obama this year.
9. I am a happy dilettante in several hobbies: weaving; machine and hand knitting; spinning; and organic gardening. I belong to several guilds just to learn from some incredibly talented people. I love color and texture.
10. My vices are books, yarn, and plants. I ask for horse manure for my birthday and Christmas, but somehow no one takes me seriously.
11. I dye my hair. I think I’m missing my opportunity to have stunning “salt and pepper” hair. I just have salt and pepper roots.
12. When I was 15, on a ranch in Argentina, I was on a runaway horse and rescued by a gorgeous gaucho named Guenther. Fact.
13. My senior year in high school in Brazil, I applied to only one school (UC-Berkeley) and was accepted. My parents panicked, and “asked” me to find somewhere else. My classmate Julio Castellanos had visited William & Mary and said it was beautiful in the snow. So I ended up at William & Mary.
14. While in college, my summer jobs were at the National Zoo, managing (people)food service stands.
15. In 2000, I had cancer and my thyroid was removed. I went from being a first soprano to a tenor. I still haven’t adjusted. I also can’t yell really loud anymore, which is probably a good thing.
16. I knew I was meant to adopt children when I was 6 years old. We didn’t actually do so until 33 years later. Everything in the interim was preparatory.
17. I want to turn our suburban house into a micro-farm, including a few chickens. Don’t tell John.
18. I have one brother. He’s turned out pretty well.
19. I like to get lost. My kids laugh about it, and it drives my husband crazy. You see and learn a lot more by getting lost. I don’t drive around aimlessly, but I’m quite comfortable not always knowing where I am and what time I’ll reach my destination.
20. Each year I take a large group camping in Big Sur for a week. Very low on amenities, very high on fun. The ones who can’t handle the camping leave after dinner and stay in a nearby inn. I hang out with great cooks, and we always eat very well.
21. Five years ago I left Big Sur for a camping road trip through the Pacific Northwest, with my children and two additional kids. Then a friend and her two kids joined us, then another, then another family. By the time we reached Seattle we were 16 people in four cars. We made it to Victoria, Vancouver, Whistler and back, and are all still speaking to each other. I transported friends' children across national borders without passports or notes from their parents -- can't do that anymore!
22. I believe in generosity as a spiritual practice. Tipping and giving things away is important. It’s not ours anyway.
23. I know the power of a good teacher and a positive word. In 1976, Geri de Souza told me that I was an effective writer, and I have believed it ever since. Thank you, Geri.
24. I am more of a student now than I was in high school, college or grad school. I love to read, and I love to dive into new information and figure out how it intersects with, or challenges, what I’ve encountered before.
25. I am allergic to mangoes, apparently because I ate more than my share. I guess that’s fair, but I still wish I could have more.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
We Are One
Time to start again. And what better way than with a celebration of unity and mutual commitment, of communal celebration, and of prayerfully raising up a new leader who calls us all to responsibility and service. Whatever isn’t right in the world, we are capable of answering with our best.
I would love to be in DC this weekend. My heart is there. I so desire to participate in the gathering, in the fellowship, in the respect for this historic moment. Watching from afar, living vicariously through friends who still live in the city I know so well, loving this moment. Years ago, I took my babies, now adults, to witness two presidents inaugurated, one I had voted for, one I had not. Those were big deals; this is so much more to me. This is my world, where there is unity between people who have been brothers and sisters and not always known it. Where everyone is at the party, and all are welcome. Even though I’m here, in California, my heart is there, and I am so grateful to everyone gathered there to mark this moment and “represent”.
I don’t kid myself that all is right in the world, that the future will be smooth, that we are a nation in which grace and justice and wisdom have won the culture. But they have won this day, and maybe one day at a time, we can live into our best selves and our nation’s premise.
Today, life is very good. Blessed, in fact. What a beautiful day.
All the best to you during the days and months to come!
I would love to be in DC this weekend. My heart is there. I so desire to participate in the gathering, in the fellowship, in the respect for this historic moment. Watching from afar, living vicariously through friends who still live in the city I know so well, loving this moment. Years ago, I took my babies, now adults, to witness two presidents inaugurated, one I had voted for, one I had not. Those were big deals; this is so much more to me. This is my world, where there is unity between people who have been brothers and sisters and not always known it. Where everyone is at the party, and all are welcome. Even though I’m here, in California, my heart is there, and I am so grateful to everyone gathered there to mark this moment and “represent”.
I don’t kid myself that all is right in the world, that the future will be smooth, that we are a nation in which grace and justice and wisdom have won the culture. But they have won this day, and maybe one day at a time, we can live into our best selves and our nation’s premise.
Today, life is very good. Blessed, in fact. What a beautiful day.
All the best to you during the days and months to come!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Happy New Year!
We wish you all the best this year! From us to you, much love, and prayers for your wellbeing and joy! We apologize if we haven’t been in touch, but that’s how chaotic life is – we know how long it has been since we sent out Christmas cards, because we moved three and a half years ago and we are still getting holiday cards at our previous address! (We have a REALLY forgiving postal carrier.) All that changed is the street number – we moved down the street, that’s all! But we’ve been here for a while and the house puts up with our rowdy life, and we are very happy in it. Come visit, and don’t expect clean.
Our life still revolves very much around our kids and their various activities. They fill our time, and our home has a 24-hour assortment of young people coming and going. Fun, but food disappears quickly and the den’s always a mess. Life is good.
Richard, 20, has transferred from the University of the Pacific to San Jose State. He’s been living at home, combining classes and working for a bicycle shop, and he will be moving onto campus shortly. He’s doing the hard work of figuring out how to take responsibility for growing up, sometimes under pressure. We’re proud of him, and he’s moving forward. Usually very fast, in a red 21-year-old BMW that he rebuilt from the tires up.
Andrew, 18, is at Oregon State, where he is on a Marine Corps ROTC scholarship. When he’s home, he works for Stanford as a security guard (and on Christmas night interrupted a burglary in progress!). His decision to pursue the USMC route sparked some “lively” discussions between his lefty Christian pacifist mother and former Marine father, but we think all the relationships will survive. Andrew is thriving in Corvallis, and spends time shoveling horse stalls and riding in the mountains with Jen’s Aunt Carol and Uncle Mike – leaving those of us down in Mountain View jealous.
Julia is in eighth grade. She is a phenomenal athlete, and her forte is soccer. Given that she’s interested in boys and clothes and hair and makeup, we keep her REALLY busy with sports. We’re having all the age-appropriate struggles about low-rise jeans and makeup and whether to actually do assigned homework. She will get through this, and so will we. At least she loves athletics, so there’s something we can be on the same side about. She’s very fortunate to have a great support network of dedicated teachers, coaches, and “aunts”.
Ana – well, you wouldn’t recognize her. From a tiny, watchful, cute little imp, she has become a rowdy, confident instigator and tiger. It must come from being the youngest. She is also a whole-hearted athlete, active in competitive soccer, and an enthusiastic student. She’s entering a phase where the rowdiness is occasionally excessive, but with two older brothers to egg her on, we just have to wait it out… In the meantime, she and Julia take hours to work together on their appearance, when they aren’t arguing relentlessly.
John is still leading ProHorizons, which is undergoing major strategic growth right now. There was rumor of him taking a month sabbatical in February, which I really looked forward to, but that plan evolved into some other company-development idea. It feels odd for the business to be scaling up when the rest of the economy is uncertain and scaling down, but that’s what’s happening. Other than that, John continues to coach youth soccer, for the 8th straight year. Even though our girls have moved up to higher levels, John still coaches regular season and tournament AYSO soccer, and it brings out the best in him.
John’s mom, Ann, moved here from Florida three and a half years ago, and she has been in very fragile health. At first, she lived in a senior community here in Mountain View, then in an assisted living facility in Sunnyvale, and now in a very good skilled nursing facility, with all-too-frequent sojourns in the hospital. Ann is now essentially in hospice care, and it has been a subdued Thanksgiving/Christmas season for our family. John’s sister Debbie was able to come visit shortly before Thanksgiving, and we have been able to spend time with Ann almost daily.
I juggle, though not always well. My priority continues to be lay leadership – trying to help other people find, develop, and leverage their God-given potential. I work within St. Tim’s and the Episcopal Diocese of El Camino Real in various capacities, and volunteer at an elementary school. For pay (very important!), I edit executive evaluations for a business consultant, which keeps me busy and thinking about effective leadership. My other interests remain fiber arts (weaving, machine knitting, and spinning) and organic gardening, though I claim no expertise; I do, however, get to hang around in guilds with amazingly talented artists and gardeners, and drink from the fire hydrants of their knowledge. My primary vices are books, yarn, horse manure, and The Economist.
We still have Bagheera, the “large” black cat, who is now ageing and cranky. She’s especially cranky because Simba, the feisty ginger tabby, has joined us, and he delights in taunting her. We also have fish – you know, the “feeder fish” children win at carnivals that survive in a water pitcher for a month so you buy the aquarium setup, then they die? Well, two years along, Troilus and Cressida have not died but grown into rather splendid large goldfish. Friends of Andrew’s have also graced us with Kornally, the only colorless betta in existence. My aunt and uncle just sent us a fish training kit to teach them soccer and various other sports. I’m thinking of building T&C a pond outside, to see how big they grow. Do not bring home fish from carnivals.
There have been other highlights this past year. In February, we took a sailing/ecology education vacation in the British Virgin Islands, which was fantastic. In April I went to a family reunion in New Orleans, which was a rare treat and a chance to spend time with people I love, but see infrequently. We have also been able to get up to Oregon on several occasions for visits to my parents, Aunt Carol & Uncle Mike (and the horses), Andrew, and a couple of conferences in Portland. We didn’t camp at Big Sur this year, but wildfires there spared the campground and we will be going next August. My brother Hugh and sister-in-law Heidi, John’s sister Debbie, and my parents have all been here for welcome visits. With all respect to those who do feel otherwise, the Presidential election was for us a profoundly hopeful and exultant moment. We are very proud of this country, and eager to participate in its renewal.
We wish you the best, and hope that you are well and that life is giving you good but not overwhelming challenges. May your families prosper, may your children and pursuits bring you joy, and may you have enough in your life to share.
Our life still revolves very much around our kids and their various activities. They fill our time, and our home has a 24-hour assortment of young people coming and going. Fun, but food disappears quickly and the den’s always a mess. Life is good.
Richard, 20, has transferred from the University of the Pacific to San Jose State. He’s been living at home, combining classes and working for a bicycle shop, and he will be moving onto campus shortly. He’s doing the hard work of figuring out how to take responsibility for growing up, sometimes under pressure. We’re proud of him, and he’s moving forward. Usually very fast, in a red 21-year-old BMW that he rebuilt from the tires up.
Andrew, 18, is at Oregon State, where he is on a Marine Corps ROTC scholarship. When he’s home, he works for Stanford as a security guard (and on Christmas night interrupted a burglary in progress!). His decision to pursue the USMC route sparked some “lively” discussions between his lefty Christian pacifist mother and former Marine father, but we think all the relationships will survive. Andrew is thriving in Corvallis, and spends time shoveling horse stalls and riding in the mountains with Jen’s Aunt Carol and Uncle Mike – leaving those of us down in Mountain View jealous.
Julia is in eighth grade. She is a phenomenal athlete, and her forte is soccer. Given that she’s interested in boys and clothes and hair and makeup, we keep her REALLY busy with sports. We’re having all the age-appropriate struggles about low-rise jeans and makeup and whether to actually do assigned homework. She will get through this, and so will we. At least she loves athletics, so there’s something we can be on the same side about. She’s very fortunate to have a great support network of dedicated teachers, coaches, and “aunts”.
Ana – well, you wouldn’t recognize her. From a tiny, watchful, cute little imp, she has become a rowdy, confident instigator and tiger. It must come from being the youngest. She is also a whole-hearted athlete, active in competitive soccer, and an enthusiastic student. She’s entering a phase where the rowdiness is occasionally excessive, but with two older brothers to egg her on, we just have to wait it out… In the meantime, she and Julia take hours to work together on their appearance, when they aren’t arguing relentlessly.
John is still leading ProHorizons, which is undergoing major strategic growth right now. There was rumor of him taking a month sabbatical in February, which I really looked forward to, but that plan evolved into some other company-development idea. It feels odd for the business to be scaling up when the rest of the economy is uncertain and scaling down, but that’s what’s happening. Other than that, John continues to coach youth soccer, for the 8th straight year. Even though our girls have moved up to higher levels, John still coaches regular season and tournament AYSO soccer, and it brings out the best in him.
John’s mom, Ann, moved here from Florida three and a half years ago, and she has been in very fragile health. At first, she lived in a senior community here in Mountain View, then in an assisted living facility in Sunnyvale, and now in a very good skilled nursing facility, with all-too-frequent sojourns in the hospital. Ann is now essentially in hospice care, and it has been a subdued Thanksgiving/Christmas season for our family. John’s sister Debbie was able to come visit shortly before Thanksgiving, and we have been able to spend time with Ann almost daily.
I juggle, though not always well. My priority continues to be lay leadership – trying to help other people find, develop, and leverage their God-given potential. I work within St. Tim’s and the Episcopal Diocese of El Camino Real in various capacities, and volunteer at an elementary school. For pay (very important!), I edit executive evaluations for a business consultant, which keeps me busy and thinking about effective leadership. My other interests remain fiber arts (weaving, machine knitting, and spinning) and organic gardening, though I claim no expertise; I do, however, get to hang around in guilds with amazingly talented artists and gardeners, and drink from the fire hydrants of their knowledge. My primary vices are books, yarn, horse manure, and The Economist.
We still have Bagheera, the “large” black cat, who is now ageing and cranky. She’s especially cranky because Simba, the feisty ginger tabby, has joined us, and he delights in taunting her. We also have fish – you know, the “feeder fish” children win at carnivals that survive in a water pitcher for a month so you buy the aquarium setup, then they die? Well, two years along, Troilus and Cressida have not died but grown into rather splendid large goldfish. Friends of Andrew’s have also graced us with Kornally, the only colorless betta in existence. My aunt and uncle just sent us a fish training kit to teach them soccer and various other sports. I’m thinking of building T&C a pond outside, to see how big they grow. Do not bring home fish from carnivals.
There have been other highlights this past year. In February, we took a sailing/ecology education vacation in the British Virgin Islands, which was fantastic. In April I went to a family reunion in New Orleans, which was a rare treat and a chance to spend time with people I love, but see infrequently. We have also been able to get up to Oregon on several occasions for visits to my parents, Aunt Carol & Uncle Mike (and the horses), Andrew, and a couple of conferences in Portland. We didn’t camp at Big Sur this year, but wildfires there spared the campground and we will be going next August. My brother Hugh and sister-in-law Heidi, John’s sister Debbie, and my parents have all been here for welcome visits. With all respect to those who do feel otherwise, the Presidential election was for us a profoundly hopeful and exultant moment. We are very proud of this country, and eager to participate in its renewal.
We wish you the best, and hope that you are well and that life is giving you good but not overwhelming challenges. May your families prosper, may your children and pursuits bring you joy, and may you have enough in your life to share.
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