All shades of Purple

Because purple is my favorite color.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Purple Programming

Loyal readers are, I suppose, heartbroken at the hiatus of our usual programming. Where now do you go to scoff at menus, laugh at "photography" or weep over pitiful book reviews? I regret that I cannot promise you anything in the way of dependable programming here. The current reasons are multitude if not convincing.
First
: The library that holds the books I desire to read has a lamentable 2 week checkout period. That would have been just right back in the day, but it now takes me 2 weeks to read a chapter. Sadly, I am not the only one who wants to read It Takes a Parent so I cannot renew indefinitely as was my original plan.
Second: My camera was damaged and I will be picking it up from the shop this week only to take family/holiday pictures that won't be shared.
Third: I have started a part-time job, weekends only. This is actually my weakest excuse.
Fourth: I am up to my knees in craftiness for Christmas presents. Maybe that will be a post later. Maybe even pictures. A thought on craftiness: elastic is the very devil.

Now that you have waded through all that I will reward you with some recommendations.
First: the book of Ezra is a gold-mine of names (not for naming purposes!) to read to your toddler. Last night I was reading the third chapter (from a preschool translation) to the Eager Helper and she was quite charmed with Hebrew creativity. Today I expect the following names (which she can say with remarkable accuracy) to figure largely in her little gallop-around-the-coffee-table ditty routine: Zerubbabel, Shealtiel, Jeshua, Henadad and Jozadak.
Second: we are thoroughly enjoying a BBC adaptation of Dicken's Bleak House that I found recommended here.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

When I'm not smelling like cheap car fresheners

I think I'll be smelling like Suave's new seasonal body wash "Whipped Cocoa." Not necessarily because I want to smell like a mug of hot chocolate but because it is a decidedly less dangerous way of inhaling chocolate. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Tags

Last weekend we took a drive to see the fall color. Where we used to live there were a couple of pretty drives that we quickly discovered and we made enjoyable annual pilgrimages. I will admit it was a great area for spectacular color - in all fairness I do have a list of things I miss about the place I hated so well, I can count them on one hand. We are still becoming familiar with our new area, so we didn't know exactly when and where to go for the best show. This fall color tour is something my husband is especially keen on, so he googled and researched it the week before. A picture is worth a thousand words, right? And tomorrow I should be posting the pictures I took, right? Wrong. Here are the tags I would have used over at flickr, though.
fallcolor
mountains
lakes
wind
clouds
rayofsunshine
buffalo
slip
fall
bruise
scrape
crying
rocks
"These photos were taken using a Canon that was dropped shortly after the pictures were taken."
The most beautiful pictures ever, huh?

Friday, November 03, 2006

If I had a day that I could give you

Yesterday I wore a sleeveless blouse, a pair of shorts and flip-flops. My windows were open. Today is the twenty-seventh of October, and though it is cloudy, the forecast promises a return of sunny skies by noon. Each day this month has been a precious gift to me as I wake to find my world has not ended in a blanket of snow during the night. I lived the last five winters above the 45th parallel and experienced Seasonal Affective Disorder each year. As I sit here on the eve of my first winter below the 45th parallel I cannot find the words to completely express my thankfulness that I have begun a new chapter of life. It's not that I ever wanted to live in a tropical paradise of perpetual summer. What I have craved was simply the sun and a winter that did not mean imprisonment, fear and isolation. Throughout the last 5 years I have repeatedly tried to write about my experiences but all such attempts quickly dissolved into melodrama and painful gasps of disjointed words. Some examples:

“Living there, being starved of light, life and warmth became another kind of asthma for me. At best, every breath is an effort you aren'’t sure it is worth to keep living a life that has to be focused on basic existence. At worst it is breathless hysteria and panic, desperately wishing to die.

“I want to have something worth seeing out my window instead of the constant deathly reminder of dying, stillness and dark. Misery, pain, nothingness. Constant, repetitive never ending wretchedness. Only mitigated . . . mitigated? By stabs of panic and fear.

When I say that I have a notebook full of this delightful fare and worse, you can count yourself fortunate that I chose the "best”" examples. But how, I wonder, can one write beautifully or even think clearly about such pain? Now that it is over, I feel as though I should be able to look back and describe it even a little so that, if nothing else, my joy and delight in the sunshine will have a context. But the past is now mostly a blur to me, the winters all combined into a memory of endless darkness, loathing and fear. The descriptions I can write today are no more clear than those written in the midst of it.

I remember each summer marveling that somehow the darkness was over and at the same time feeling even more desperate because I knew another winter was already on its way. I don't know how I survived. I really didn't think I would.

I would like to tie this post up with a profound, tidy paragraph summing up the spiritual significance I have found through my struggle; I've tried for a week now to do so. I did learn some truths but so incompletely that it isn't honest to say, "Oh, God was teaching me to trust Him blindly and accept that He is in control. I learned that God is faithful to His children." Those words are true, but I haven't learned that at all! I look at the picture (above) that I took last year and marvel that 5 years actually produced so little growth.

 
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