I've got proof!!

My super-cool looking camera is no longer usable. This is very sad news for me, as my camera (a Sony Cybershot U-60), does not look like a camera at all, and it is a great conversation piece. Now, I am having to learn how to use the fancy camera Mr. M. got me for Christmas. He tried to sell it after I told him that all those buttons made me scared to use it, but he kept it, and he got a fancy camera for himself. So we are a nerdy family with cameras permanently attached to our eyes. Well, today I was walking around the neighborhood, practicing with my new/old fancy camera. I took a picture of some pumpkin plants in someone's front yard. (I'll post that picture on Flickr, but the rule is that if you look at it, you have to leave a comment on this post.) Anyway, I hadn't been home more than 5 minutes before the neighborhood gossip called to ask me why I was snooping around taking pictures. I tried saying that I just thought the plants were pretty, but I think she is convinced that I am in cahoots with the neighborhood HOA, and that I am taking the photographical evidence of the offending plants on behalf of the HOA board member who had just recently yelled at the owner of the plants, insisting that she remove them.

Packing and Hammer Dulcimers

As Mr. M. and I were packing a blanket and a few snacks to take to the outdoor concert featuring my friend the National Hammer Dulcimer Champion, I realized how packing is really what makes a vacation. Laying on the grass, listening to my friend play, I reflected on three things. First, I reflected on the days when I had a good shot at becoming the National Hammer Dulcimer Champion. I never got my shot in the big leagues only because I left my dulcimer on a Greyhound bus on a spontaneous trip north to tend to my bean farms along the banks of the Rogue River in Oregon. Then, laying there, I realized how privileged I was to know and be friends with the National Hammer Dulcimer Champion. Even just to know one of the top 100 hammer dulcimer players in the nation would be a treat, but to know the national champion!!!! And not only to know her and see her in concert, but to be her friend! The third thing I thought about as I lay there with Mr. M., listening to the sweet sound of the hammer dulcimer wafting in the warm summer evening air, was a day trip to the beach I had several weeks ago. I thought about how packing had really made that day a day to be remembered. Having to plan and pack for that beautiful beach day made that one day at the beach feel as refreshing to me as if we had gone on a week-long vacation. Oh, that day! We layed in the sun, played in the water, layed in the sun some more, walked a little, and then had a nice bonfire where we roasted hot dogs and made s'mores. (Actually one person and one person only was in charge of the s'mores, and she deserves the title of National S'more Making Champion.) I could go on about that great beach day, but I have to pack to go up north to tend to my beans.

I have added a picture of my friend the National Hammer Dulcimer Champion to my Flickr pictures.

I . . . love technology

The other night was a beautiful night. A warm summer evening, and Mr. M. and I were outside enjoying it. Mr. M. was installing a fingerprint-recognition garage door opener. He got himself and his fingerprint registered, and then came my turn. I ran my thumb across the scanner. It didn't work. I tried again. Didn't work. Tried again. Didn't work. I moved on to my index finger. That didn't work. Because of the position of the scanner, I thought my pinkie might do the trick, so I tried that. Didn't work. I just kept trying it. I began to sing the words of Kip from Napoleon Dynamite: "I . . . love technology ", as I repeatedly caressed the scanner with my finger to no profit. Success finally came, and ridiculous as the reason for our being outside enjoying the warm summer evening, I'm glad we were!

Community and Legacy

The Roman Catholic church has taught from the beginning that one's relationship to Christ is determined by their involvement with the church. The Reformers taught that one's involvement in the church will be determined by their relationship to Christ. So I believe my role in the church hinges entirely on my personal and daily relationship to my Savior. I can do nothing to please Him without faith, according to Hebrews 11. The church, the living body of believers, is my community.
Mr. M. and I just watched a documentary about a social experiment wherein 1000 blank journals were sent out into the world, and collected years later, after having the contributions of many artists. I thought that was a neat idea. But the more I thought about it, and the more I heard people in the movie talking about the worldwide community of contributers, the more I realized that I am not of this world, and that I don't want to be identified with it. My only community is that of Christians. I concluded that that isn't a project I would feel comfortable with. Romans tells us that anything that is not of faith, anything that goes against our conscience, is sin for us. Contributing to one of those journals, and being identified with this worldly community would violate my conscience.
Just how different contributing to one of the journals is from writing on my blog, I don't know. But I do know writing on this blog doesn't violate my conscience in any way, and I write with faith, praying that my words will encourage someone in some way. It will be my legacy, I think, just as my friend's CaringBridge site and her journals are the encouraging and lovely legacy she left.

"Continue in the faith, grounded and settled."

The first chapter of Colossians speaks of the importance of being grounded and settled in your faith. Not coincidentally, Thomas Watson, the great Puritan preacher and author of many books, including A Body of Divinity, also speaks of the importance of knowing the fundamentals of the great Christian faith many of us profess. As I read this, I thank God for the wonderful Christian friends He's given me, those who keep me settled in the doctrine and faith I profess. My friends know me, and know when I'm not being me, and will gently bring me back to myself, to the faith that is first of all pure, then peaceful . . .

DomesticiTea

I have discovered something amazing about myself; I make a really good sweet tea. I don't mean to brag, but it's awesome! I made a pitcher of home brewed sweet tea a year ago for a dear friend who has since left this world for a far better one, and again this summer I have rediscovered the hidden art of tea-making, and the amazing ability of fresh honey-sweetened tea to bring together friends old and new. I use mango black tea, with clover honey dissolved in boiling water. Oh, I do so enjoy compliments! So I will make pitcher after pitcher until I have shared a refreshing cup of sweet tea with all of my friends.

Writing and Waiting, corrected with a working link

My friend Nichole is waiting for a surgery. Me? I am waiting for a cure for my ataxia, or at least a drug to stop any further damage. I am trying to take care of myself as I wait, exercising, eating sensibly, spending time wisely, learning and reading informative and edifying books, and also trying to help others. The best help I can offer Nichole right now is to update her blog for her, http://nicholegreene.blogspot.com/ and to let others know of her needs.

Communication and Pythons

I was considering buying a book on listening, but soon realized that listening and communicating is part of truly loving others; so a book on loving others is what I need. Alack and alas!!! I already own the most authoritative book on loving others ever written-The Bible! I have spent much time lately reflecting on the need for, (and joy of), honest communication. In fact, I went to a small Bible Study wherein we talked about communication. Our reflections were sincere and honest. We were all truly vulnerable with each other. Our serious conversation was interrupted, though, by a HUGE spider. High pitched screaming and jumping around ensued, and we had to move the couch to get the large arachnid out of its hiding spot. Calm returned, but barely. We ended the evening telling stories of all kinds of pests and vermin. The best story was that of a pet python, who usually curled up in bed with its owner. After several weeks of odd behavior, including not sleeping in bed and not eating, the woman who owned the snake took it to the vet. After the exam, he told the woman, "Whatever you do, don't take this snake home." She asked why not. "He's preparing to eat you." "Preparing to eat you!!!"