Another Lighted City

the in between times

2012-01-25T22:13:00.000-06:00

It’s been a while since my last post (say bloggers the world over), but as my writing lapsed I savored some of life’s precious in between times. After the squirrels devoured the pumpkin, and the robins pecked at all the winterberries, the rhythms of the church calendar ushered our little household into the season of Advent. We celebrated Christ’s incarnation—the fully divine becoming fully human, in humanity’s humblest form. We joyously anticipated the kingdom to come—another lighted city.

The “now and not yet” of Advent took on a rich (very human) meaning as we encountered the many in between moments of expecting our first baby. There was a time of waiting to see if “it” was really there; a time of waiting to share the news; a time of waiting for sickness to subside; a time of waiting to feel the slightest flutter or kick; and, a time of waiting to find out whether the little shadow was a son or a daughter.

Our son (!) still has a lot of growing to do before we meet him face-to-face in early June. In the coming months, my hope is that this short season will be more than just a time of busyness. Yes, there are windows that need replacing, compost that needs turning, and books piled high next to the television. I just hope I can endeavor to pursue prayer with the same focus as decorating the nursery.

requisite mum and pumpkin

2011-10-23T13:48:00.000-05:00

Last weekend we had a mini fall work-day, traveling to my favorite garden center for lawn fertilizer, pebbles, and -- of course -- a pumpkin and a mum. We augmented a sad little spot of gravel by the mailbox, at the threshold of the gate to the backyard:

The gold mum and large pumpkin stand sentinel. We're hoping the squirrels won't attack the pumpkin before Halloween, so we can carve it. If they do, we have a spare hidden in the shed.

Fall remains my favorite season, and our new home's faded perennials make the season more personal. I've followed the progress of the sedum, aster, coreopsis, and virginia creeper almost full circle. In the large bed next to the vegetable garden, the winterberry bushes have released their namesakes:

The garden, lawn, and hedges remain mostly green -- even as the maple trees across the street have lost most of their leaves.

squirrels of september

2011-09-26T16:55:00.000-05:00

Every week in September has brought armfuls of fallen leaves off the pin oak tree that stands in front of our house. I've raked, bundled, and piled them on Saturdays. But they're still green.

Fall may be approaching, but the local squirrels are determined to hurry it along and de-leaf the old oak before it even has a chance to enjoy the season. They baldly, gleefully chew off bunches of green leaves, hunting down green acorns. The small, molested branches fall gracefully onto the lawn, the driveway, the hill of myrtle.

Here are some action shots of the property damage (and accompanying acrobatics):

We're guessing that squirrels are a protected species in this progressive, urban county. But that hasn't stopped Wes from pricing BB guns.

shorter days, snazzier lighting

2011-09-16T16:55:00.000-05:00

My industrious in-laws visited over Labor Day weekend, quickly adopting the honey-do list as their own. We learned a bit about hard-wiring, caulking, and problem-solving ... and now we can remember their invaluable help every time we flip the switch.

The first project was upgrading the mismatched and poorly functioning outdoor lights. We added a touch of industrial chic:

Next, we installed a modern gray felt pendant in the dining room. Perhaps my love for the color gray is some kind of subconscious effort to balance my extroverted personality? The dining room in morning light:

In the picture above, you can also see my grandmother's mirror and a framed old map of the great state of Iowa, which we found at the Capitol Hill flea market. Look through the pocket door to the kitchen, and you'll catch a glimpse of the new gas range and OTR microwave ... our only significant "upgrade" so far. Finally, I can cook again! Just in time for fall soups and sauteed apples. Speaking of fall, please enjoy this close up of my harvest centerpiece (shades of grandma), composed of gourds from the farmers market:

tomato sorting

2011-08-30T19:22:00.000-05:00

I'm still harvesting a handful or two of cherry tomatoes each week. Here we have the almost-ripe, and the ready-to-eat. Lovely little bowls courtesy of my friend, Ann.

summer in the city

2011-08-16T16:44:00.000-05:00

Another lighted city. An always-lighted city. How would you describe New York? I visited the City (as we called it in Connecticut) regularly growing up -- striding deliberately down Fifth Avenue, gaping at the Plaza's extravagance, clapping at Broadway shows, and gazing at the view from the South Tower of the World Trade Center. My mother took me and my sister, in turn, to find our wedding dresses.

Last weekend marked my first visit with my husband, and I saw the City with fresh eyes (and sore feet). We explored more neighborhoods than I had before, venturing into Brooklyn and touring the tenement museum on the Lower East Side. We enjoyed a mix of take-out lunches and fine dining, local ale and French wine. Here are some of my favorite photos -- our attempts to capture New York's je ne sais quoi.

The sculptural trees of Bryant Park. Next to the New York Public Library, a great place for people watching and sandwich munching.

Fresh juice at Union Square Greenmarket. We carried a giant bottle of grape-apple around with us all afternoon.

The Flatiron Building. Our view during Friday lunch, below.

Gourmet pizza and fresh mozzarella from Eataly, Mario Batali's epic Italian food emporium. I became so overwhelmed that I just stood by the door while Wes fetched the olive bread.

The roofs of New York ... as seen from the Empire State Building.

Waves of cobblestones at St. Mark's in the Bowery.

Sesame pancake and fresh (but still fried!) pork dumplings in Chinatown.

Enjoying an indie coffee break at Oslo in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

The cheese plate at Rye, also in Williamsburg. I had lovely spring pea ravioli and Wes enjoyed duck with couscous and chutney. This place was elegant but not pretentious -- a perfect Saturday night setting for weary walkers.

We rode the Staten Island Ferry on a foggy, damp Sunday morning. It afforded views of Manhattan, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Brooklyn, and ... don't leave it out ... New Jersey.

The city's newest park, The High Line. We walked 16 blocks on this elevated park after a few New York friends recommended it. Can you see why?

summer sweat

2011-07-20T20:04:00.000-05:00

I hereby declare that it is most displeasing to even visit one's garden on a hot, humid July day with mosquitoes swarming garden beds (and legs). Not even the ripe cherry tomatoes seemed worth it today!

I'm looking forward to ripping out all the scraggly herbs and be-spotted bean plants and starting over in early September. Until then you'll find me inside, hanging pictures and curtains.

fresh feasts

2011-07-04T10:43:00.000-05:00

We have enjoyed some delicious food moments this summer, with family, and with friends. As promised, here are some snapshots:

My brother-in-law and his wife drove out from Illinois, by way of Maryland. They came bearing Amish eggs from just a couple hours north. We wasted no time and enjoyed them for breakfast. With bacon, of course.

The Sunday farmers market is just three blocks up the street! In South Arlington it's a little more relaxed than the hyper-foodie version in the northern part of town. I enjoy the relaxed rhythm of walking over each Sunday.

I visited my friend's mother out in a more rural part of the Virginia suburbs. She has a blueberry patch, and the pickin' was good! I took about ten pictures of the blueberries; I'll spare you and just include this one.

Though I might be satisfied just watching plants grow, it is nice when they do produce something edible. This is one of the earlier bean and cherry tomato harvests, ready to be shared with a friend. And I lied ... the blueberries found their way into this picture, too.

Plated salads, ready for a dinner party. Featuring arugula and basil from the garden. The red pepper is probably from Mexico. I made peace with that.

With help from the nearby Thai market, we attempted spring rolls with some shrimp and home-grown basil. Success!

The dining room table served as the beverage bar for our open house.

Happy Independence Day!

and then it was summer

2011-06-14T18:19:00.000-05:00

The weeks are flying by, and it's hard to believe it's been only six since the raised beds were just boxes of dirt. The cherry tomato is seven feet tall and giving the scarecrow a run for his money. This week marks the last spring lettuce & arugula harvest, and heralds the first crop of green beans. The garden grows faster than I can blog about it, and I think I am more committed to gardening than blogging. That's a good thing, right?

May 23. Now see below.

June 14.

I'm starting to ask myself why I grew so much dill ... if you live nearby, please come over and clip some. Here are the pea blossoms, cherry tomatoes, green beans, and a baby serrano pepper:

Here is our backyard oasis. (That's the pond area to the right.) Now featuring a new grill, and blooming coreopsis and butterfly bush.

I will post again soon on recent memorable food moments! There have been many.

a shenandoah story

2011-05-30T15:15:00.000-05:00

In the brief moments spent indoors during the last month, we’ve arranged a few pieces of new furniture. My favorite of these is our new dining room table. It is handcrafted from wood salvaged from a 1901 orchard barn in the Virginia countryside. It has three long planks running its length, with a breadboard extension for seating eight. The carpenter made it according to the size I specified and sent photos to make sure the finish was dark enough. I enjoyed working directly with him, and he enjoyed telling the old wood’s story—and making it come alive for another generation.

With the table as its centerpiece and a view of the garden, I think the dining room is my favorite room in the house. I feel fortunate to work from home, and even more fortunate when there is company around the table!

season of salads

2011-05-23T20:28:00.000-05:00

The harvest has begun. The arugula came up first and fastest, so I've been blending it with lettuces from the farmer's market. There isn't much else that is ready (unless you count mint, of course), but I've made more than a few salads with simple vinaigrette. Today marked the first garden give-away, as I pressed a friend to take away some of the arugula.

potting party

2011-05-15T11:42:00.000-05:00

Living in northern Virginia, I've discovered the season of spring anew. The seasons (usually) shift gradually here, and I relish the chance to watch flowers bloom and fade in succession as the weather warms. Now some of those flowers are in my own backyard; though the tulips are long gone and the azaleas have withered, the irises and spiderwort are gracing the green with spots of purple. The pond foliage has filled in dramatically (see below).

Last weekend my sister and brother-in-law visited -- our first overnight guests! We sat on the patio, dropped by the farmers market, and planted half a dozen containers with plants I found at Merrifield Garden Center. My brother-in-law snapped a few photos:

Both the watering can and the pink & orange begonia were housewarming gifts from friends nearby. Now I think of them, and my sister, whenever we sit outside.

spring sprouts

2011-05-01T13:57:00.000-05:00

Last weekend we built cedar raised beds and filled them with fresh soil. On Easter Sunday, I planted my seeds: peas & beans, basil, dill, cilantro, chives, and lettuces. This spot gets a lot of sun, and it's great to finally plant more than a few pots on the balcony.

This week, bush beans and lettuce offered almost-instant gratification, sprouting in a mere four days. They were a warm welcome as we officially moved to the house!

Also loving life: the pink azalea on the side of the house (with lily of the valley) and the stonecrop sedum near the pond. When the boxes are unpacked and the furniture is in place, I promise I'll post more than just pictures of plants!

surgery on sedum

2011-04-15T17:08:00.001-05:00

After a week of sitting at the computer and watching the rain, today was a banner day for yardwork. The mulch and garden soil conditioner arrived, and I weeded around the winterberry bushes and perennials. I dug up and divided some over-sized sedum ... I think it will enjoy a new life in the neighbor's front yard!

The tulips are beginning their farewell, and the myrtle blooms are less dense than two weeks ago. The marsh marigolds were positively giddy with the full sunshine today, and the phlox's purple blooms (incorrectly spelled in the previous post) are carpeting the pond area.

It's starting to feel like home ... now we just have to move our stuff!

Is the scarecrow staying? And does he have a name?

2011-03-21T20:29:00.000-05:00

Two questions I forgot to ask last Saturday, when the previous owners of our duplex gave us a lengthy tour of the yard and garden.

I did learn that the serviceberry tree is named “Dale.” And that the flox, sedum, and other plants by the pond are native to Virginia and will attract dragonflies and hummingbirds. The hedge will need trimming, the perennial bed mulching. The vegetable garden area lies at the foot of the scarecrow and will need to be cleared of rocks.

And so our life continues in Arlington, in a new (old) place, in someone’s lovingly tended garden, in another vibrant neighborhood. We are thankful.

visit from a foodie friend

2011-03-05T17:18:00.000-06:00

Sometimes Saturday is like stepping out of time. It’s not a day of rest, like Sunday; it’s a day to get things done, but not the things you would normally do. And sometimes it’s a day to see your city all over again, or explore a new neighborhood, or leave altogether. Last weekend my dear friend Michelle came to see another lighted city, its monuments, and our life here. And to make ricotta blintzes with blueberry sauce.

sriracha and sushi

2011-02-16T19:41:00.000-06:00

We had a few colleagues over for homemade sushi and dumplings last weekend. Here are a few shots of the assembly and service:

The table set with chopsticks from China!

(Everything else from Target, IKEA, and Crate & Barrel.)

Two takes on the veggie roll: one with sriracha, one without.

Avocado, cucumber, carrot, and sprouts.

The in-house attorney patiently places sushi rice on nori ...

good thing he's not charging by the hour!

Trader Joe's smoked salmon and a roll ready to be sliced.

A smoked salmon roll ... ready to be rolled.

Sesame seeds added a key flavor profile.

The buffet, after feasting.

These purplish dumplings owe their hue to red cabbage

and my spontaneity.

confessions of a racing reader

2011-01-22T12:30:00.000-06:00

Like many type-A achievers, I take great pride in completing a task efficiently. My formal education allowed little time for considering texts; the goal was to read for comprehension, not contemplation. There were exceptions. During college I remember a particular English assignment that required my class to memorize Psalm 8, which we then discussed, line by line, over the course of several sessions. And in high school, I read and re-read On the Road for my senior thesis, diligently marking up the pages, my tongue between my lips.

In my reading now, I have every reason to take my time. While the time allotted for reading might be limited, I don’t have deadlines for finishing a book. This winter, I’ve purposefully chosen reading that should encourage slow consideration—novels to be read carefully and gently, with a cup of tea. Sip.

In an earlier post, I shared some favorite portions from Tinkers. What I didn’t fully confess is that I raced through Harding’s rich prose in just a few sittings. He includes “excerpts” from an old clockmaker’s manual as part of the narrative; I found the technical language too boring and sped-read many of those segments. Sigh.

I’m coming to the end of Jayber Crow, having read Hannah Coulter earlier this month. I love Wendell Berry’s fictional rural community and its rhythms of lives well-lived. But I also love the rhythm of turning the page. Swish.

It's almost as if I believe quicker reading leads to deeper immersion in the text. But when I read Scripture I often read the same chapter repeatedly, several days in a row. I know I’ll skim it the first time, read it more slowly the second, start to see its beauty the third. Perhaps I should adopt this pattern for fiction and so frustrate my page-turning ambition. Smile.

peace and pasta

2011-01-08T17:26:00.001-06:00

For Christmas, Wes gave me the pasta maker attachments for our KitchenAid. I was so excited to tell Katie about our new project, but she warned me: “Don’t try to make pasta together … it will lead to a fight!” She gave examples from her own experience and a mutual friend’s. (You know who you are.)

But her warning came too late. We mixed, rolled, and cut homemade pasta last week – in peace. I think the difference might be having a husband content to be an attentive sous-chef. And a sous-chef who’s willing to do the frustrating tasks: painstakingly separating the drying strands, cleaning the rollers, and listening to my chatter (“Katie said it’s okay to use a lot of flour” … “Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this needs more water” … “I think we should try this with semolina flour” … “No, the instructions say …” and on and on).

There are downsides to the sous-chef model of kitchen harmony—we don’t have nearly as many interesting meals as my friends with cooking partners, and it’s lonely sometimes grocery-shopping by myself—but it works for us. The fettuccine was our first meal of 2011!

the textured richnesses of very modest lives

2010-12-19T15:22:00.000-06:00

I recently read Tinkers, Paul Harding’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, and I’d like to share some favorite excerpts and invite you to ponder them with me. The book is more discovery than story; I had to slow myself down to cherish each paragraph. Of the book, Marilynne Robinson remarked, “Its fine touch plays over the textured richnesses of very modest lives, evoking again and again a frisson of deep recognition, a sense of primal encounter with the brilliant, elusive world of the senses. It confers on the reader the best privilege fiction can afford, the illusion of ghostly proximity to other human souls.”

On the human condition:

“Your cold mornings are filled with the heartache about the fact that although we are not at ease in this world, it is all we have, that it is ours but that it is full of strife, so that all we can call our own is strife; but even that is better than nothing at all, isn’t it? And as you split frost-laced wood with numb hands, rejoice that your uncertainty is God’s will and His grace toward you and that that is beautiful, and part of a greater certainty, as your own father always said in his sermons and to you at home. And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough.” (p. 72)

A little bit about the wind:

“A wind would come up through the trees, sounding like a chorus, so like a breath then, so sounding like a breath, the breath of thousands of souls gathering itself up somewhere in the timber lining the bowls and depressions behind the worn mountains the way thunderstorms did and crawling up their backs the way the thunderstorms did, too, which you couldn’t hear, quite, but felt barometrically—a contraction or flattening as of tone as everything compressed in front of it, again, which you couldn’t see, quite, but instead could almost see the result of—water flattening, so the light coming off of it shifted angles, the grass stiffening …” (p. 128)

On our limits:

“And as an ignorant insect crawling across the face of that clock, who sees not the whole face, the full cycle of numbers, the short hand and the long … but who merely treads over the surface which hides the gear train and the springs without any but the most indirect conception of what lies beneath, so does man squirm and fret on the dusty skin of our earth, ignorant of the purpose of the world, indeed the cosmos, beyond the fact that there is one, assigned by God and known only to Him, and that it is good and that it is terrifying and that it is ineffable and that only rational faith can soothe the desperate pains and woes of our magnificent and depraved world.”

As we begin another week of Advent waiting, this last portion prompts me only to say: Come, Lord Jesus.

morning sun on a merry mini tree

2010-12-11T08:20:00.000-06:00

Our mini tree is by the bookshelf this year; its spot in the window is taken by plants seeking shelter from the cold. I think Borges is glad for the cheery company (see upper left corner).

giving thanks

2010-11-29T16:53:00.000-06:00

We hosted our first family holiday feast last week. This included our first turkey, which was successful thanks to an overnight brine. Smoky picture below.

My sister arrived early, bearing coffee, cheese, and chocolates. I documented them right away! Her husband is a barista at Princeton's famous Small World coffeeshop and supplied the fresh-roasted beans.

Some shots of our fine feast and the Thanksgiving spread (two folding tables pushed together, with Mom's tablecloth and some borrowed chairs).

networks

2010-11-18T21:15:00.000-06:00

In an era of online social networks, it’s easy to quickly link to half a dozen people whom you haven’t met but with whom you share a common profession, passion, or pumpkin pie recipe. Facebook allows me to keep in touch with friends across the country—in places I’ve lived and places I haven’t. But there’s still something to be said for the synergy of physical proximity.

This is often acknowledged in the context of friendship, but I’ve been surprised by how much it’s true for professional networking as well. DC feels smaller all the time. There is something valuable in “running into” the same people over and over again at different events around the city. And people seem more interested in grabbing coffee if they’ve seen you in person somewhere else first. In other words, the old job-hunting tip—move where you want to live and print a local address on your resume—still holds weight. I was thinking about this in the context of David Brooks’ recent column about the power of American networks. He says,

“ … creativity is not a solitary process. It happens within networks. It happens when talented people get together, when idea systems and mentalities merge.”

Even though it’s easy to connect with American networks without being physically in America, Brooks might argue that the local social context matters, and that’s why the U.S. will continue to draw enterprising individuals:

“America hosts the right kind of networks — ones that are flexible and intense. Study after study suggests that America is one of those societies with high social trust. … The crucial fact about the new epoch is that creativity needs hubs. Information networks need junction points. The nation that can make itself the crossroads to the world will have tremendous economic and political power.”

vibrant virginia

2010-10-25T18:54:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, I embarked on a fall food foray in and around Charlottesville with my friend Emily—a native of Richmond, a gracious hostess, and one of my foodiest friends. I arrived in Richmond Friday afternoon and explored the eclectic shops in its Carytown neighborhood. I finally went into a Penzeys Spices, procuring some needed seeds (sesame, poppy, caraway, fennel) for winter baking. I found some Christmas gifts at Ten Thousand Villages and chatted with the owner of the independent design store Ruth & Ollie. I braved a cat paradise disguised as a bookstore and perused the quirky inventory at Mongrel before returning to Ellwood Thompson’s for a warming bowl of soup.

Emily and I started our weekend with spicy dumplings and the Bombay roll at Osaka. Saturday morning we loaded her car with provisions (veggies, homemade hummus) and drove to Carter Mountain Orchard, just outside Charlottesville. This place definitely deserves to have “mountain” in its name; the ridge along the top had spectacular views. We did some minor hiking to get our apple harvest: Fujis, Winesaps, and Pink Ladies. We also enjoyed cider doughnuts … yum.

After the orchard we drove into Charlottesville—definitely a foodie town. We stopped by Feast and Albemarle Baking Co. to pick up cheeses, sausages, and bread for our picnic at Pollak Vineyards. Feast had some great local cheese offerings; I could have spent several hours looking around. At Pollak we sampled seven or eight wines (who’s counting …) and enjoyed a little Viognier with our lunch.

After the luncheon feast we headed back into Charlottesville and explored the downtown pedestrian mall. The chocolate sorbet at Splendora’s definitely lived up to Emily’s recommendation, and it paired well with pear. We finished the day with Emily’s nourishing butternut squash and potato soup. I’m looking forward to returning to Charlottesville and seeing more of the downtown and campus.

fall fresh

2010-10-08T09:31:00.000-05:00

Fall feast for one: fried green tomatoes (rescued before I ripped up the stringy plants) and a CSA yam.

All cleaned up for hibernation. At least they're unlikely to freeze and crack here.

I spotted this white pumpkin at Ellwood Thompson's, a food co-op in Richmond. Both the pumpkin and mum are Virginia-grown.

september

2010-09-29T11:23:00.001-05:00

Last Saturday we attended the National Symphony Orchestra’s season opening concert at the Kennedy Center. There is something so grand about entering the hall of flags and mingling on the patio that overlooks the Potomac. The program included pieces by Johann Strauss, Jr., Richard Strauss, and Liszt and featured performances by Renee Fleming and Lang Lang. Fleming performed Richard Strauss’ “Four Last Songs.” The lines from “September” seem à propos for this season and a fitting tribute to my abandoned vegetable garden:

The garden is mourning,

the rain sinks coolly on the flowers,

summertime shudders

quietly to a close.

Leaf upon golden leaf is dropping

down from the tall acacia tree.

Summer smiles amazed and exhausted,

on the dying dream that was this garden.

Long by the roses,

it tarries, yearns for rest,

slowly closes its (great)

weary eyes.

(translated from German)

vacation's all i ever wanted

2010-09-18T14:58:00.001-05:00

We didn’t have to get away, but we did. After four weekends out-of-town, it’s good to be home on a Saturday–cleaning, picking up veggies, enjoying an end-of-summer kind of day. With or without the academic calendar, September will always be the back-to-school month. The same sense of anticipation; the same urge to start over.

Oregon, Washington, and Vancouver, B.C. were all new places for us. The trip was a whirlwind of driving up mountains and down coasts, exploring city streets block by block … the kind of trip that leaves you mentally refreshed but physically exhausted. Conclusion: the Pacific Northwest is full of dramatic landscapes, walkable cities, and really good food.

Rialto Beach, WA:

that lie about greener grass

2010-08-17T21:39:00.000-05:00

I’m re-reading Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, and there a number of worthy excerpts. Paragraphs you just want to skim again, read out loud, chew on.

One segment addresses a common lie I’ve been considering over the past year or two. I know that life is hard and that it often isn’t fair, but I still harbor the very American impulse to believe my life will continually improve in the coming weeks and months. Though the church taught me about “persecution and trials,” I’m not sure I understood that awkward conversations, miscommunication, and stressful projects would be par for the course. Course after course. Cue Peterson:

“We keep expecting things to get better somehow. And when they don’t, we whine like spoiled children who don’t get their way. We accumulate resentment that stores up in anger and erupts in violence. Convinced by the lie that what we are experiencing is unnatural, an exception, we devise ways to escape the influence of what other people do to us by getting away on a vacation as often as we can. When the vacation is over, we get back into the flow of things again, our naïveté renewed that everything is going to work out all right—only to once more be surprised, hurt, bewildered when it doesn’t.”

Okay, so we’re going on vacation (in two days!) for other reasons than to escape annoying people. But Peterson speaks effectively to the greener grass impulse. I need to parse out the difference between discontentedness and genuine hope that God will improve a relationship, provide a financial need, and heal an illness.

tomato update

2010-08-04T17:56:00.001-05:00

The tomatoes are starting to peek pink and roll in. I've got my first pickings in a paper bag on the counter.

Here's a shot my brother took while visiting the garden about 10 days ago. It's great to have him in the States for a little while, though he's complained about the heat quite a bit. We all enjoyed grilled squash on a Saturday evening -- talk about fresh!

And here's my CSA display (minus the bananas): vine ripe tomatoes (they're a little ahead of mine, obviously), cherry tomatoes (which my brother devoured), and white nectarines. I love getting fruit as part of my share.

Oh ... and there's basil there, too. I think I'll make a batch of mozzarella this weekend!

a yet more glorious day

2010-07-26T14:23:00.000-05:00

I've had some blessed conversations, both public and private, over the past few weeks, and I need to be a bit more disciplined about writing things down. It's a busy season, despite the 90+ degree July heat, and the words of "For All the Saints" have been a continual encouragement. A couple verses that seem appropriate for summer's fits and starts:

The golden evening
brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful
warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm
of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Allelu...

But lo! There breaks
a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant
rise in bright array;
The King of glory
passes on his way,
Alleluia, Allelu...

This hymn reminds me of the powerful imagery in Over the Rhine's "The Trumpet Child" (lyrics below) and the complete totality of the eschaton. Our pastor has been preaching in Romans and encouraging us to remember that "the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God." Our adoption as sons means the "redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:18-25). Amen.

The Trumpet Child

The trumpet child will blow his horn
Will blast the sky till it’s reborn
With Gabriel’s power and Satchmo’s grace
He will surprise the human race

The trumpet he will use to blow
Is being fashioned out of fire
The mouthpiece is a glowing coal
The bell a burst of wild desire

The trumpet child will riff on love
Thelonious notes from up above
He’ll improvise a kingdom come
Accompanied by a different drum

The trumpet child will banquet here
Until the lost are truly found
A thousand days, a thousand years
Nobody knows for sure how long

The rich forget about their gold
The meek and mild are strangely bold
A lion lies beside a lamb
And licks a murderer’s outstretched hand

The trumpet child will lift a glass
His bride now leaning in at last
His final aim to fill with joy
The earth that man all but destroyed

subcultures

2010-07-13T21:49:00.000-05:00

Last weekend a Mormon couple we know through work joined us for dinner. They walked over (with their two-year-old) from their apartment down the street. We grilled sausages and burgers and they brought cream soda (no caffeine).

We had a really interesting discussion about college subcultures, comparing our experiences from BYU and Wheaton. Young evangelicals love to make fun of how we/they get married “right out of college!” But we’ve got nothing on the Mormons. They often meet, date, and get married before graduating—we heard about one girl who went from a casual date to a wedding in six months. “What about the wedding planning?” I protested. “Weddings aren’t big productions for Mormons,” our dinner guest replied. Of course. We went on to discuss alcohol, travel (read: missions), and our churches. I really appreciated the candor of the conversation, the camaraderie of comparison.

bounty

2010-07-02T13:35:00.000-05:00

A friend volunteered to negotiate with scratchy leaves for the first big squash and zucchini harvest! We'll try to get them smaller next time ...

A yellow squash plays hide-and-seek.

The first cucumber sighting!

Tomatoes are around the corner ...

new rhythms

2010-06-22T17:26:00.000-05:00

About three weeks ago, I switched to half-time at work. I’m now working remotely and putting in about 20-25 hours a week editing, abstracting, and prepping web content. And I gleefully gave back the Blackberry. So far, it’s just lovely. But I don’t take it lightly.

This change is the result of about a year of reflection in our household, six months of conversations with my supervisors, and a commitment to try our best to flourish in our fast-paced environment. We’d like to stay in the D.C. area for more than the typical two years, and that’s going to take a lot of intentionality (I know, I’m not supposed to use that word) and investing in our home and community rather than our work. I’m praying for wisdom about how to best use my “free” time and how to balance my husband’s 12-14 hour days as an attorney.

So far, it’s been filled with (in no particular order): a new church committee, a garden, a car accident (no one was hurt), unrelated car maintenance, roller coasters, splashing in the pool with some toddler friends, a little more reading, and “The Bachelorette.” Oh, and the two bridal showers. How am I doing?

a backyard bequest

2010-06-09T21:10:00.000-05:00

Here’s another great garden story … it’s really the beginning of one. My former colleague, John, is traveling in the Middle East this summer. Last summer he shared some homegrown tomatoes and jalapeno peppers and through the winter we talked about gardening and Wendell Berry and other classic crunchy-con topics. Like where to find raw milk (I have not tried it yet) and how gardening can prompt meditation.

When John was planning his journey, I offered to help tend his backyard garden while he was away. He asked for my input on how to organize the rows and what to plant. He put in tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, lettuces, beans, and some herbs. Then he went away. Free spirit that he is, he’s not planning on returning to the area, and his roommate is more than willing to let me continue gardening. And so, the backyard bequest. I’m delighted, intimidated, hopeful … and grateful to avoid the 3-year waiting list for a community garden plot.

So here’s an inaugural picture. As you can see, everything is well underway, especially the grass! I’m not sure what you’re doing on Friday, but I’ll be weeding.

tis the season ...

2010-06-03T20:04:00.000-05:00

… for bridal showers. I’m in between treks to Iowa and New Jersey—cycling loads of laundry, gathering stores for the home-front (I’m leaving him behind), and soaking my already-overgrown plants. And planning party number two, for my sister. I hope the mini quiches turn out.

Tis also the season for gardens to start producing, and I heard a good story about one while I was visiting my beyond-cool friends back in Iowa City. It’s a neighbor story, and a simple one. My foodie friend knocked on a farmhouse door two blocks from her apartment (which is home to some lively herbs, but nonetheless not tillable) and inquired about her neighbor’s backyard availability. Now she and her husband share two plots with their generous hosts—and keep an eye on the place when the neighbors are out of town. She just knocked on the door, and asked! Here’s a picture (lettuce and spinach in foreground):

Next week’s garden entry: “a bequest.” Stay tuned!

citified hospitality

2010-05-16T09:09:00.001-05:00

I’m continuing to think about what “hospitality” really looks like, especially in our pseudo-urban context. This reflection from a woman in Vancouver was a good read, mainly because it’s a story. She says,

“The new reality of city living meant being in close proximity to our neighbours and interacting with them on a daily, personal basis—not just when we want to conveniently say hello.

Although I know those who would disagree with me, I have found it easier to be neighbourly while living in the city than in the suburbs. Since space is limited in the city, I notice that people tend to congregate and cross paths regularly in public facilities such as parks, libraries, community centers, and transit—whereas in the suburbs, people tend to spend more time in the private 'playgrounds' of their homes (basements, rec rooms) and backyards.”

I felt this familiarity last week; a sense that my particular part of Arlington was really a neighborhood. I saw a good friend at the grocery store and an acquaintance on the Metro. Last night I spotted a former colleague in the crosswalk. I like the sense of shared public space here, and I hope it continues to challenge me to share my own space.

bricolage

2010-04-14T19:33:00.002-05:00

A piece in today’s New York Times challenges the notion that globalization is flattening our cultural horizons and making us homogeneous. Michael Kimmelman explains, “The common denominator of popular culture … seems to have just intensified the need people now feel to distinguish themselves from it. And global technology has made this easier by providing countless individuals, microcultures and larger groups and movements with cheap and convenient means to preserve and disseminate themselves.”

The handmade and vintage shopping website Etsy comes to mind: One-of-a-kind products from small-time designers/producers who sell in a global market to those eager to distinguish themselves outside of popular culture. The things we buy shouldn’t define us—I agree with Andy Crouch that consumption is a limited frame for “culture”—but our choices set us apart from the mainstream and help us construct a new identity and unique aesthetic.

Kimmelman gives an example: “When Mats Nilsson, a Swedish product-design strategist for Ikea, not long ago told The New York Times that he loves to browse for handmade baskets in Spain, bird cages in Portugal, brushes in Japan and hardware on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, he was creating his own cultural identity out of the bric-a-brac of consumer choices made available by the globalizing forces of economic integration. Bricolage, it’s called. Anyone may now pick through the marketplace of global culture.”

Aside: The word “bricolage” made me think of the Ricola cough drop commercial. An odd etymology, no?

monumental springtime

2010-04-04T20:52:00.000-05:00

Spring hath sprung. A couple weeks ago, actually. For the first time in my memory, the month of March brought flowering trees, green grass, and tulips. And as we celebrated Resurrection Sunday today, green buds had appeared on even the bigger trees. Though it’s been said a thousand times before, spring does remind me of God’s goodness. Especially when it arrives in March!

On Good Friday, we visited the famous cherry blossoms at the tidal basin. (Pictures below.) It felt a bit celebratory for the day marking Christ’s death on the cross, but we ended the day with a simple, solemn church service. And today … He is Risen!

le mot du jour

2010-03-26T12:45:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Ross Douthat and his book list, I learned a new word today: splenetic. "Marked by bad temper, malevolence, or spite."

the moon and her mother

2010-03-24T21:04:00.003-05:00

Watch this fun video ... the creative director is the newest (soon-to-be) member of the fam.

to read: essay about reading

2010-03-12T16:23:00.001-06:00

An “illiterate” novelist describes her early reading experiences in this New York Times essay. It's amusing and I liked her tone. Her story reminded me of all the hours I spent reading as a child/adolescent, and made me wonder how I chose the books I did. And what would have happened if I had tried to read The Idiot as a seventh-grader.

Which of your earliest books were random or silly? (Me: Bode & Brock Theone’s Zion Chronicles.) Which were much too serious? (David Copperfield.)

are the love languages lacking?

2010-02-24T15:34:00.001-06:00

“The 5 Love Languages” were a staple of my evangelical college experience. We didn’t take the concept too seriously, but we loved taking the quiz and comparing our results. Although it was a fun couple’s activity, I always found it more intriguing when applied to family relationships. (For the record, my love language is quality time.)

A Cardus blog post today makes me think twice about it. Excerpt:

“… there is good merit to the metaphor of love language, but like too much of evangelical literature on relationality and community it assumes that with the right disciplines, therapies and understandings our marriages, relationships, families (etc) can become sites of intimate communion which fulfill our desires as human beings. And nothing could be further from the truth. This ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’ is a market for self-interested, love starved individuals looking for the latest fill of the ‘love tank.’ It suggests: my desires are ok, you just need to learn how to meet them.”

Is this treatment too harsh? How can we use the love languages in a way that is unselfish?

snow soup

2010-02-11T20:19:00.001-06:00

Okay, so I ate two thirds of it before taking the picture. And it looks oddly like ricotta. But I have to celebrate record-breaking snowfalls in the D.C. area somehow!

This treat goes by many names – the Washington Post had this article on “snow cream” – but in my family it’s always been called “snow soup.” I make my snow soup the same way my family has made it for generations (yes, hyperbolic): a splash of milk or half & half and a generous drizzle of real maple syrup. Syrup drizzling requires significant restraint or the snow soup quickly becomes an expensive endeavor. Bon appétit!

culture on the web, not of the web

2010-02-03T17:07:00.007-06:00

I’d like to recommend a few “culture” sites I’ve come across in my browsing as I strive to be a “well-informed generalist.”

These webmags, blogs, forums – whatever you want to call them – are providing valuable content for consideration. This content may vary from film reviews to personal essays to recipes. But I’m as interested in the curation of the content as the content itself; in an age of information-overload, curating may be the thing I value most on the web. In learning to name it, I benefited from Brett McCracken’s blurb about “taste-keepers” in a trends-analysis piece for Relevant.

To be fair to the hard work that has gone into these sites, I’ll let them explain in their own words.

Comment “is trying to build a Christian intellectual, artistic, and culture-making community animated by the gospel: serving the people of God seeking the shalom of our cities.”

Culture Making “point[s] visitors toward surprising, hopeful, and challenging glimpses of culture making in action.”

The Curator “seeks to encourage, promote, and uncover those artifacts of culture – those things which humans create – that inspire and embody truth, goodness, and beauty.”

Wunderkammer “takes its name from the eclectic, encyclopedic collections of the old nobles which served as microcosms of a baffling world, demanding examination and inspiring curiosity from its viewers.”

food news of late

2010-01-27T16:01:00.005-06:00

• We have joined a CSA! It is run by chefs in Alexandria. I have wanted to do this for a couple years but our summer locations were always a bit uncertain. I know we’ll be here all year, and I’m looking forward to the program, which offers 38 weeks of produce. What will we get the first week of March? I’ll let you know.

• Over Saturday morning tea recently, Katie and I discussed bread baking and the sheet-pan-letting-off-steam method. She and her husband are (admirably) working their way through The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. I’m a loyal bread machine user and a little intimidated by actually making bread from scratch, but it’s a definite goal. For now I’m continually inspired by Beth Hensperger’s The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook. It was a wedding gift from another foodie friend, Emily Z. Le pain du jour is Hungarian white bread with fennel seeds.

• I’m currently reading Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food, a collection of essays by Wendell Berry and edited by Michael Pollan. Usually I go for straight-up food/cooking memoirs, but Berry’s descriptions of family farms and farming techniques is accessible and delightful. Definitely more trowel than tractor.

• Why did a post about food turn into a post about books? Theories are welcome.

trowels vs. tractors

2010-01-13T17:58:00.003-06:00

Like the yuppies and dinks around us, we are centrally located between the farm fields of Virginia and the Farm Bill halls of power. We enjoy a Whole Foods and a year-round farmers market. But my interest in healthy food and how it is produced solidified during three years in Iowa City – one of the centers of Iowa’s local-food movement and adjacent to some massive corn fields. Now, I can’t claim to know many farmers -- though I did enjoy Galen’s lamb occasionally -- but I think processing the food movement (pun intended) while living in Iowa prompted some helpful questions about utopian farming and food systems. Also, my husband loves Oreos and being a devil’s advocate.

There’s more to consider and write about on this topic: the responsibility of Christians to steward the earth – and feed the poor; the unintended elitism of much of the locavore/foodie movement; and society’s construction of food mores with a kind of religious fervor.

For now, consider this article recommended by Mark Bittman on “The Facts about Food and Farming.” Maybe we have room for trowels and tractors.

dinks

2010-01-06T20:17:00.000-06:00

It’s 2010 and we’ve officially left behind the “transition year” that was 2009. We’ve left behind the odd scraps of income, the piecing together of part-time jobs. We’ve settled into a small apartment, parked our Honda, and met our neighbors’ new dog. We live in Arlington, and we are DINKS—double-income, no kids (no dog, either). So here’s to a year of working hard, trying new recipes (tonight’s failed), hosting new friends, and enjoying the city. And each other.

let it snow ... and merry christmas

2009-12-19T15:07:00.004-06:00

Sometimes the weather has a great sense of humor, and today the Iowa snow I knew I would miss at Christmas has followed me to Virginia. A blessed, quiet way to welcome the last week of Advent. And a great opportunity to wrap a few gifts and listen to NPR.

The curtains framing the tree represent no small decorating victory. They required five months, four brackets, three drilling sessions, two trips to the sewing store, and one hired handyman before they went up!

three months immense

2009-11-30T18:58:00.002-06:00

Rilke reflects “the summer was immense” but this year brought a three-month fall. Three months of crisp-not-cold air, three months of tiredgreen-gold-orange-crackling leaves. The marigolds and pansies still haven’t given up. September football and the last of the goldenrod in Pennsylvania. November football and the last tailgate of the season. For Thanksgiving, it was still fall in Iowa, which is not always the case. This year I’m thankful for a fall so immense. So immense that, for the first time in many years, I’m ready for Christmas. Lord, it is time.

(The tree is at Mount Vernon, George Washington’s estate south of D.C. We visited it with good friends, on a warm Sunday in early November.)

best drawer ever

2009-11-15T19:05:00.004-06:00

I definitely feel more inspired!

the (non)writing life

2009-11-01T11:25:00.001-06:00

The past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about writing, and why I don’t do much of it. There’s the “I’ve developed A.D.D.” theory—more on that later, when I can focus and explain—and the excuse that my editing and research at work (always due asap) doesn’t leave me with enough intellectual energy to spit anything else out at the end of the day. These two excuses are linked, of course.

A recent New York Times article explored why good writers often aren’t good conversationalists or speakers. Arthur Krystal recounts watching an interview on TV with Vladimir Nabokov:

"But wait! What’s that Nabokov’s doing with his hands? He’s turning over index cards. He’s glancing at notes. He’s reading. Fluent in three languages, he relies on prefabricated responses to talk about his work. Am I disappointed? I am at first, but then I think: writers don’t have to be brilliant conversationalists; it’s not their job to be smart except, of course, when they write."

I’m a big conversationalist, so I wonder if the flip side might also be true—do extroverts who love to talk have a harder time writing well? Writing requires discipline, regardless of your temperament, but perhaps those in “blah blah blah” mode need an extra nudge.

princeton II

2009-10-28T19:39:00.003-05:00

I went back. I couldn't help myself. Here are just a few pictures of Princeton's surrounds and my sister's homey place. One thing I (sadly) failed to do was adequately capture the foliage. Oh well -- there's always next year.

Her dormer windows (only five of the nine shown).

A creative fall display outside a gallery in Hopewell.

Homemade cappuccino w/ cinnamon.

Cozy conversation corner.

Three arches -- just off Nassau Street.
(These are not crooked in real life. Hehe.)

princeton

2009-10-16T17:46:00.007-05:00

Last weekend I visited my sister in Princeton, where she is at seminary. My dad drove down from New England and we enjoyed a relaxing tour of Princeton-in-the-fall. She took us to the local orchard, the coffee shop, the bakery. The best place of all was her top-floor apartment -- with nine dormer windows, found furniture, quirky wall hangings, and mismatched mugs.

Being in Princeton reminded me how much I love seeing new places, especially when they are meaningful to a good friend or family member. Princeton was stunning--the leaves turning gold and crinkling and wise, solid trees lining every path and standing sentry to every building. I'll go back again, and I'll imagine it is always fall there.

how do you do church?

2009-10-04T20:43:00.002-05:00

As we’ve become more involved at our new church here (an Anglican church plant), I have thought about how different churches emphasize different things about their mission and operation. The following thought from Tim Keller really crystallizes the concerns facing many evangelicals who are dissatisfied with certain church models … but Keller also offers a hopeful, appreciative way forward in the “church-model wars.” He says,

“John Frame's 'tri-perspectivalism' helps me understand Willow. The Willow Creek style churches have a 'kingly' emphasis on leadership, strategic thinking, and wise administration. The danger there is that the mechanical obscures how organic and spontaneous church life can be. The Reformed churches have a 'prophetic' emphasis on preaching, teaching, and doctrine. The danger there is that we can have a naïve and unBiblical view that, if we just expound the Word faithfully, everything else in the church—leader development, community building, stewardship of resources, unified vision—will just happen by themselves. The emerging churches have a 'priestly' emphasis on community, liturgy and sacraments, service and justice. The danger there is to view 'community' as the magic bullet in the same way Reformed people view preaching.

“By thinking in this way, it makes it possible for me to love and appreciate the best representatives of each of these contemporary evangelical 'traditions.'”

Our church here is really strong on the “priestly” points: community, liturgy, sacraments, service, and justice. But we also have strong preaching (which healthfully drives those activities forward) and volunteers who keep us organized!

shameless blog post stealing

2009-09-28T15:08:00.003-05:00

Do you ever steal blog posts from other people? I think it’s a fantastic idea, if you give the original author credit. The list below recommends books to read to understand the culture. It comes via Justin Taylor via James Kushiner from Ken Myers. I’ve read some Lewis, Berry, and Barzun—but not from the list below. Have you read any of these works? I’m intrigued by the books that focus on a particular cultural product, like language and music.

Five “Thinner” Books:

C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (1943)
Wendell Berry, Life Is a Miracle: An Essay Against Modern Superstition (2000)
Colin Gunton, Enlightenment and Alienation: An Essay Towards a Trinitarian Theology (1985)
George Parkin Grant, English-Speaking Justice (1985)
Richard Weaver, Ideas Have Consequences (1948)

Five “Thicker” Books:

John McWhorter, Doing Our Own Thing: The Degradation of Language and Music and Why We Should, Like, Care (2003)
Jacques Barzun, The Use and Abuse of Art (1974)
David Thomson, The Whole Equation: A History of Hollywood (2004)
Julian Johnson, Who Needs Classical Music?: Cultural Choice and Musical Value (2002)
Langdon Winner, Autonomous Technology: Technics-out-of-Control as a Theme in Political Thought (1977)

fall-ing

2009-09-10T17:01:00.002-05:00

September is determined to put an end to summer. There was a nip-in-the-air when the local kids went back to school, and I cheerfully donned a jacket and scarf for the morning commute. Fall has always been my favorite season, and if it comes early that is fine by me. With it comes the realization that we are still here in Arlington. We’ve survived an entire season (both real and metaphorical) and we really live here now. There will be only two Saturday football games – not six or seven. Wes won’t have law school classes to attend or exams to take. I won’t change jobs, as I’ve done every year to mimic the academic calendar. There will still be fellowship groups and potlucks and dinner parties. Yet all the faces will change.

This reflection on late summer from a former college newspaper colleague (I really recommend his blog!) helped me bid summer farewell. But I’m still looking for a perfect tomato.

edible blackberries—the kind that don’t ring

2009-08-22T16:04:00.005-05:00

Last weekend we wandered outside the Beltway and camped in Shenandoah National Park, less than two hours from our high-rise. After a seven-year sojourn in the Midwest, the joy in being so close to the mountains and the ocean is never lost on me.

Lil’ Blue (the Civic) merged onto Skyline Drive and my BlackBerry promptly lost service. I could not have been more delighted. Like all wannabe-campers, we purchased firewood, pitched our tent 15 feet from our vehicle, and applied bug spray. We had two coolers of junk food and only one immediate concern: kindling for the campfire. The Eagle Scout tromped into the woods wielding his beloved hatchet (and boot knife, and Swiss Army knife) and I picked up a few twigs.

Then I spotted them. The real blackberries. The ones you can eat. I picked just a few (I swear!) and heard a rustling down the hill. A buck was enjoying some berries, too. In another wannabe-camper moment, I delighted in the fact that so shortly after leaving the office I was already communing with nature. The hot dogs and beers weren’t bad, either.

Update: The “Stuff White People Like” blog’s most recent post makes fun of how we camp.

i'm hungry ... what's on TV?

2009-08-12T19:05:00.002-05:00

Michael Pollan wrote an insightful article for The New York Times Magazine recently, exploring trends in food television and analyzing why we would rather watch someone cook than actually cook ourselves. As a former Food Network fan, I can sympathize with Pollan’s skepticism of its programs that highlight consumption and provide entertainment rather than actually showing people cooking. I’ve ditched cable and I now enjoy public TV (WETA’s “Create” channel) where “America’s Test Kitchen” and “Lidia’s Italy” actually teach recipes.

He says, “Today the average American spends a mere 27 minutes a day on food preparation (another four minutes cleaning up); that’s less than half the time that we spent cooking and cleaning up when Julia [Child] arrived on our television screens. It’s also less than half the time it takes to watch a single episode of ‘Top Chef’ or ‘Chopped’ or ‘The Next Food Network Star.’ What this suggests is that a great many Americans are spending considerably more time watching images of cooking on television than they are cooking themselves — an increasingly archaic activity they will tell you they no longer have the time for.”

Even if you’re completely uninterested in food TV, Pollan’s article is worth a read. He recalls growing up with Julia Child on the television, and explores how her commitment to excellent food actually ran alongside the feminist movement rather than contradicting it. By contrast, the Food Network’s evening lineup of grilling-fests and diner tours shows a concerted attempt to attract male viewers. (To be fair, they still host a number of cooking shows during the day.)

Also, this reflection by David Frum echoes some crunchy con themes, as he sees the conservative values in manifestoes like Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma.

home-making

2009-08-02T12:29:00.004-05:00

Here are some pictures of our new place and new things: books, reading chair, quilt, balcony. We have turquoise & brown curtains to hang in the living room, but the hanging has become a summer saga. The plaster is too thin, the concrete too stubborn. So the curtains are pending.
The dining area and living room (above) are not as gloomy in real life.

Wes' grandmother made this quilt for us this spring. I helped pick the pieces!

Still getting organized in here...but we've made many a good meal.Just found this set -- for our very narrow balcony -- on clearance.
Wes is sitting in this chair, sipping mate, as we speak.

week-end-ing

2009-07-19T20:36:00.002-05:00

This reflection is an antidote to my previous post:

We’ve settled in to a bit of a weekend routine, and it’s my favorite time to be out and about in the neighborhood. I’ve walked up and down our high-rise-ridden avenue, and out away from the traffic through quiet, tree-lined streets with tidy brick colonials and bungalows. We had a few friends over for a relaxed Saturday lunch and dipped our feet in the pool across the street. They brought a blueberry pie.

Our new church meets in the evenings on Sunday, and I really enjoy being home in the morning. It’s the only day out of seven that I can ease into. After a quiet day, it seems natural to close the weekend in worship and fellowship, and to go out into the week reminded of God’s active grace.

workaholism: the way we live now

2009-07-14T20:41:00.005-05:00

David Brooks wrote a great column today on the lifestyles of people like Sonia Sotomayor—people who exhibit the essence of success in a meritocracy. Even in the middle of recounting Sotomayor’s remarkable accomplishments, Brooks says, “Her biographers paint a picture of a life now that is frantically busy, fulfilling and often aloof … It’s the story of people in a meritocracy that gets more purified and competitive by the year, with the time demands growing more and more insistent.”

He goes on to say, “These profiles give an authentic glimpse of a style of life that hasn’t yet been captured by a novel or a movie—the subtle blend of high-achiever successes, trade-offs and deep commitments to others. In the profiles, you see the intoxicating lure of work, which provides an organizing purpose and identity.”

The column clearly describes what this whole town is about: work. And finding your identity in your work. Brooks seems concerned, but doesn’t offer an antidote or a deeper analysis about what workaholism means for society. (Maybe it was that darn word count limit!) And I’m curious about his contention that it hasn’t been “captured by a novel or a movie.” Are there movies and novels out there that do capture it? I’ll have to think about this one. It’s possible there isn’t … because showing a modern politician, businessperson, or journalist checking their Blackberry just isn’t that entertaining.

the "well-informed generalist"

2009-06-23T17:54:00.003-05:00

Just finished another great article in byFaith magazine: an interview with Ken Myers of Mars Hill Audio, which is sort of like Books & Culture meets NPR. The interview included some great reflections on common grace, how evangelicals think about culture, and the right response to the "new and improved." The writer framed the piece around Myers' reputation as a "well-informed generalist" and how Mars Hill Audio provides rigorous content on a variety of ideas. I love it. One major reason I was an international relations major in college was because of its interdisciplinary nature; I wanted to take history, political theory, and languages all at the same time. My book club in Iowa City showed me how teachers, doctors, singers, and secretaries can all gather around African lit.

Myers says, "I'm convinced that one of the reasons the church has been culturally inert is because we don't have a lot of laymen who are interested in the whole big ecosystem of culture and all its inter-related aspects. Culture is the way our humanity in all of its forms and expressions is lived out, so understanding culture is necessarily interdisciplinary. You can't do it in a piecemeal way."

So, keep the book club going. Read a friend's magazines. Learn about the joys and difficulties of someone else's profession. And contemplate ideas for their own sake.

Update: The article is now posted online.

the garden grows!

2009-06-20T22:15:00.002-05:00

Here's a rainy-day shot of my little city garden. It's got marigolds, fuschia, potato vine, and a steady coleus. I've harvested the poor mint half to death (mojitos! iced tea!), and the oregano loves all the thunderstorms. My basil is holding out for the good hot days of July & August, saving its best for when fresh tomatoes roll in. The marigolds are shy in this shot; a new round of blooms should come in a couple days!

welcome wagon

2009-06-14T13:32:00.002-05:00

We’ve undertaken some proverbial church-hopping during our first 3 weeks here in Arlington, and we have been blown away by the hospitality and welcoming spirit of Christians in the city. It’s confirmed for us the benefits of smaller churches, where newcomers are (hopefully!) instantly recognized and greeted. The downside is that we now feel attached to several wonderful congregations.

We’ll do our best not to over-analyze the process and to trust the Lord that he will bless us with good teaching and strong community wherever we go. And we’ll keep telling new acquaintances about the little church we left behind in Iowa.

what can we store?

2009-05-29T10:26:00.000-05:00

This post is named in honor of Michelle, who knew exactly what I was thinking and accurately imagined the current state of our new home, a one bedroom high-rise apartment. Yes, we’ve arrived. We arrived over a week ago, in fact. But it still doesn’t feel like home.

I’m an impatient settler. I like to clean and get everything put away…right away! We’ve had a bumpy first week, but we are mostly unpacked. We have to wait to arrange our library and put pictures on the walls because of painting. Some painters came yesterday unannounced at 8 AM. I was sad to send them away, but they would only have been able to paint the boxes white, not the walls. That seemed like a waste of paint.

Today’s task: Empty three large boxes labeled “Garage.” Hmmm … we don’t have one of those here. What can we store? All the closets and cabinets are full.

what can we carry?

2009-05-17T21:16:00.002-05:00

The moving truck is coming tomorrow. I haven’t had to pack all the boxes myself this time, so the move still seems distant, days off. I’m still trying to figure out what treasured possessions should come along in the Civic and what to trust to the movers. There were a lot of goodbyes today, yesterday, the day before and before. It’s hard to go.

I’ve been listening to a new CD from Alli Rogers, a folk/pop singer-songwriter originally from Cedar Falls. I’m not great at remembering tunes, but I’ve had her song “The Things We Can and Cannot Keep” in my head these last few weeks as we’ve prepared to leave Iowa. It’s good for a transition:

what can we carry
what will stay with us
what will shine like gold
when the story’s told
some things will tarry
some will return to dust
there are things we can
and things we cannot keep

memorable morsels

2009-05-10T21:42:00.003-05:00

Off the top of my head – favorite food moments from three years in Iowa City. A foodie yearbook page, if you will. Our friends are even more fantastic than the food they served.

Michelle’s cedar plank salmon and rosemary cheesecake (pictured at left) … indescribable. Good thing I’m not a food writer, because I couldn’t do them justice.

“Iron Chef” gatherings hosted by Emily. Squash, nuts, berries. And prizes for most creative, best presentation, and tastiest dishes!

Frequent family dinners, with countless desserts and lots of good conversation.

Cooking bibimbap with Jung Ok at Paula’s. Very spicy red stuff.

Bookish brunches and many, many fellowship meals at Lisa’s house. Coffee, casseroles, cookies. The door is always open there … just walk right in!

Darby’s scones, up on the third floor. She doesn’t live there anymore, but she still makes good things to eat.

Trying Thai recipes with Melissa – lettuce wraps and peanut-y noodles.

Orpah and Nate’s very cheesy pizza. Exploding beer and salsa!

finally, first farmers market

2009-05-05T22:12:00.002-05:00

Saturday, I drove downtown and flip-flopped over to the first farmers market of the season! Walking down sunny, quiet blocks I kept thinking, “This is the day the Lord has made.” Usually, the first market is ushered in by blustery winds and regrets about leaving mittens and scarves at home. Michelle and I looked at all the pretty flowers and sniffed a lonely basil plant among flats of fennel. Oh, I’ll miss these early summer mornings.

My apologies—I don’t have the proverbial picture of asparagus to accompany this post. :)

on leaving the midwest

2009-04-29T21:55:00.007-05:00

Our move from a little city to a big city is fast approaching. We’re not just changing towns; we’re changing regions. The people, cities, and landscape of the Midwest have nurtured me for most of my (brief) adult life … so I think some appreciative words are in order before I head “home” to the East Coast.

Wide-open spaces: (cue Dixie Chicks) The birds here stand out against the sky—there’s nothing to compete with their profiles. The robins love the tree beyond our balcony. But the hawks and crows I notice more often, circling and gliding over the interstate. Open sky means knowing where the sun is, and I watch its arc rise and fall with the seasons. At first, all this sky made me feel a bit insecure, and the land seemed so naked. For me, no hills or mountains made places seem like the “middle of nowhere”—even Chicago.

Honest, hard-working people: I know this sounds like a presidential campaign cliché (and boy, 2008 was a long year!) but in large part it’s true. People in the Midwest are friendly, and not just because they have to be. At my favorite little grocery, the high schoolers look me in the eye and say thank you after placing all my bags in the trunk. Both sides of my husband’s family hail from Iowa, and farming stories explain why hard work is still valued and expected.

A great public library: This is more specific, but the outstanding city public library is one of the things I appreciate most about where we live. It means free movie rentals on Friday nights, copies of new nonfiction, and a quiet place to spend a little time in between errands. For my friends who are moms, it’s a common outing. The playground and coffee shop next door make for a trifecta of fantastic gathering spaces. The community really treasures its library, and it shows. I’ll miss it!

There are many more specific things I love here: our active little church, every friend, the squash-and-peppers farmers market, conversations in coffeehouses, raindrops on roses...

tocqueville part two: the culture of disbelief

2009-04-23T18:54:00.005-05:00

The Culture of Disbelief: How American Law and Politics Trivialize Religious Devotion, by Stephen L. Carter, is on my reading list—ever since I found it for $3 at our public library’s discarded-books-store. (Of course a book like this ends up in the dustbin in Iowa City.) It was published in 1993, but somehow I suspect it is still relevant today (like Allan Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind).

Carter won a prestigious award for the book, and this excerpt is worth noting … and a good follow up to Michelle’s comment on the tocqueville post.

"In our sensible zeal to keep religion from dominating our politics, we have created a political and legal culture that presses the religiously faithful to be other than themselves, to act publicly, and sometimes privately as well, as though their faith does not matter to them."

(I know, I know, I should read books before commenting on them!)

is food the new sex?

2009-04-22T22:56:00.003-05:00

I read a couple of interesting articles recently that discuss the increasingly strict obsession we have with what we do and do not eat. As a farmers-market-loving foodie, I’m wary of knee-jerk conservative reactions against “liberal elitist granola types” because they tend to be pretty pejorative—about both liberals and their granola. But the idea that food restrictions are taking the place of sexual mores is worth noting.

Chuck Colson wrote a brief column on the issue, and referenced a lengthier article by Mary Eberstadt. She summarizes the issue well:

“Just as the food of today often attracts a level of metaphysical attentiveness suggestive of the sex of yesterday, so does food today seem attended by a similarly evocative — and proliferating — number of verboten signs. The opprobrium reserved for perceived ‘violations’ of what one ‘ought’ to do has migrated, in some cases fully, from one to the other.”

Is this true? Yes, for many people. She also notes that these “verboten signs” do not just apply to personal choice; they are meant to apply in a more universal sense. In this vein, she adds, “Moreover, this reversal between sex and food appears firmer the more passionately one clings to either pole.” I don’t agree with that statement—my “crunchy con” friends and I are testament that you can uphold traditional morals AND pay attention to what you eat. But all values don’t hold the same weight!

Colson picks up on every person’s intrinsic need for a moral code:

“… as my former colleague Jim Tonkowich notes, ‘For all our relativistic talk’ about encouraging people to make their own moral choices, ‘we cannot get away from an inner sense of right and wrong and the desire to codify [it].’

Jim is right. As the apostle Paul put it, God’s law is written on our hearts. We can deceive ourselves into believing it doesn’t exist, but when we do, we find our God-given sense of morality breaking out in other forms. In this case, in food—though it would be better the other way around.”

I love enjoying the delicious food God gave us to eat (so many choices!), and I’m still trying to sort out which “food values” should transcend personal choice and impact the public. I wish these articles had discussed this more thoroughly ... Please help me think through this!

tocqueville today

2009-04-17T12:11:00.004-05:00

I received a copy of Democracy in America during high school (as well as many a PoliSci lecture), and commentary referencing Tocqueville’s 19^th-century observations always piques my interest. This First Things article had a succinct description of what Tocqueville observed about religion’s role in the public square:

“Tocqueville calls religion “the first of their political institutions”—despite the fact that religion “never mixes directly in the government of society,” it “singularly facilitates their use of [freedom]” by making women and men moral.”

In large segments of the public square today, orthodox religion is seen as actually making men and women amoral and backward (there’s nothing worse than being called “traditional”). Morality is instead defined narrowly—and somewhat absolutely—by a set of politically-correct views. (“Politically-correct” is such a tired phrase, but I can’t think of how else to describe peer-pressured, media-sponsored public morality.)

“Separation of church and state” is quickly coming to mean “separation of religious-based morality and the public square.” In the process, we are losing our ability to “facilitate the use of our freedom” because politically-correct morality tells us we can define our own boundaries. But how are we to do so collectively, if each person’s views are equally valid? And how do we tackle societal ills, if we do not address moral choices? (see: “binge drinking, University of [X]”) Tocqueville realized how our country’s religious foundation—not an official church—enabled its citizens to use individual freedom constructively for the common good.

There’s so much more in this article—read the whole thing. (There’s a great section on what Tocqueville meant when he said American women were superior their European counterparts.)

on writing on trends

2009-04-12T21:00:00.002-05:00

Do you ever read something and say aloud, “Only in America?” It’s one of my favorite phrases (thanks Mom), and I muttered it after reading about this yoga trend in The New York Times “Style” section. I love this part of the paper; it so perfectly encapsulates a certain kind of city lifestyle by noting various “trends” which do not occur anywhere else. As I read, I like to pretend it’s really an Onion-esque commentary on the faux-urbane. But the articles are actually serious.

After I read that article, I asked my husband: “Guess what you’ll only see in America?” Without missing a beat he said, “dog yoga.”

good friday

2009-04-10T09:26:00.005-05:00

Justin Taylor has posted a prayer for today from “The Valley of Vision.”

Quiet, contemplative posts like these remind me to pause, but it’s hard to respond appropriately to the text when I’m reading it on a computer. How do I pray off a blog post? Maybe I should go read the hard copy …

once upon a time in the woods

2009-04-04T21:24:00.003-05:00

Late October and early April days often seem the same in Iowa. With the green gone—or not quite back—the sun and the wind break all the way through barren limbs and it smells like dirt. The slanted light and earthiness remind me of similar days in New England. I miss the woods, and I miss the stone walls.

My sister and brother and I explored the walls all around our old, old house. We marched on top of the sturdier segments but mostly scrambled over the tired, misshapen, now-meaningless markers. We built forts around them, conquered them. The ants and beetles found refuge, and we found the edges of our wooded world.

chesterton at long last

2009-03-30T22:51:00.003-05:00

I know, I know. I should have read “Orthodoxy” ages ago. Well, I finally did. And I plan to again. My church group has been discussing postmodernism, absolutes, and politically-correct language about truth. Here’s a quote you may have seen before:

“But what we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition. Modesty has settled upon the organ of conviction; where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed.”

not-so-new calvinism: so hot right now

2009-03-27T21:41:00.004-05:00

An acquaintance from my college newspaper days has also remarked on the recent media attention given to all things Calvinist. His post has more substantial points to consider. If you are a film fan, you may also benefit from his extensive list of reviews and other thoughtful blog offerings.

arugula & jackhammers

2009-03-24T21:38:00.005-05:00

There is much rejoicing over the Obama family's plan to plant an vegetable garden on the South Lawn. Yes, it's just a garden. And yes, hundreds of families across America have never stopped gardening. (This is apparent in Iowa.) I'm all for sarcastic "trend" spotting. But I think their garden will actually make a symbolic difference; it will get a younger generation to pay attention to where food comes from.

And for the lighter, Marxist take on the news:

"In mid-February, Tom Vilsack, the new secretary of agriculture, took a jackhammer to a patch of pavement outside his headquarters to create his own organic 'people’s garden.'"

speaking of faith

2009-03-21T17:18:00.004-05:00

One of my favorite NPR/APM shows is “Speaking of Faith.” Krista Tippett hosts a lot of interesting guests and approaches the issue of “faith” from unusual and varied angles. As an interviewer, she rarely seems forced, dogmatic, or aggressive to guests with whom she might disagree. Even better, she also avoids the other extreme—common among politically-correct society—of benign approval.

“Speaking of Faith” has a done a couple different episodes/events on Reinhold Niebuhr recently. I’m behind the curve on him and his thought (despite the best intentions of a certain college professor) and I enjoyed this “Niebuhr Rediscovered” compilation episode.

Here’s a great excerpt from Jean Bethke Elshtain, speaking about Neibuhr on reality and the morality of war: “What comes to mind is a person of great seriousness of purpose who ongoingly engaged the struggles of his time, didn't retreat from them, immersed himself fully in them without becoming entirely reconciled to them. So I think that insistence that we confront the harsh realities of our time, that we think seriously about them as Christians, that insistence is really the heart of the matter. And I would add here also the recognition that human beings are finite, incomplete, frail creatures, and that the politics that we create is bound to be marked by our own finitude.”

Another episode, focusing on Niebuhr and Obama, stems from a live interview with E.J. Dionne and David Brooks … I need to listen again!

not-so-new calvinism

2009-03-19T22:15:00.004-05:00

A friend from our church fellowship group sent an interesting article from TIME. Apparently “The New Calvinism” is one of the “10 Ideas Changing the World Right Now.” I took a look at the rest of the list, and the other nine things had to do with globalization, environmental challenges, and other broad-based ideas. This Calvinism thing stood alone as the only religion-related item, and seemingly a niche one at that. The New York Times did an edgy, mostly fair portrait of Mark Driscoll a while back. What are we to make of this heightened interest in what certain Christians believe—and not just how they vote? With an increasingly fragmented evangelical political scene, are religion-beat editors and journalists looking for the Next Big Christian Caricature? Or are they genuinely interested in what these Christians believe about God?

“The New Calvinism” gets it mostly right, in terms of quickly sweeping over the evangelical Reformed scene. The last line was really interesting, suggesting “… more Christians searching for security will submit their wills to the austerely demanding God of their country's infancy.” Is the writer recognizing that we’ve abandoned those religio-moral beliefs that made our country great? (Usually J. Edwards and the Founding Fathers get pounded for being so austere!)

how does your garden grow?

2009-03-16T22:37:00.003-05:00

Spring is coming (almost) and some recent reading dovetailed nicely with the soon-to-be season. Nate Jones, a friend from college, wrote a book review/reflection on “gardening in the cracks” for the latest issue of Books & Culture. He argues that we need a “theology of gardening.” (My good friend Michelle reminds me we need a theology for everything.) An excerpt:

“Any theology of gardening must be first a project of recovery, exploring the place of the earth in the biblical narrative and the story of God’s people upon the land … we have too often regarded the land as essentially an object of production rather than a creation.”

Barbara Kingsolver makes a similar point about “land as object” in her 2007 book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I could write 1,000 words on my mixed feelings about this memoir, but overall I’m interested. The book helped me ask: How have I lost a connection to what I eat every day? Nate’s article helped me ask: What cultural attitudes about food and land do Christians have that we might have just adopted without thinking about it? I know this discussion ties into the larger evangelical turn toward environmentalism – and I like the moniker “creation care.” In terms of daily life, though, let’s face it: I’m looking for good food. And sharing it is the best part!

ends and means

2009-03-12T16:38:00.004-05:00

I check in on Rod Dreher’s blog almost daily for news and thoughts about religion, current events, and where conservatism is heading (or not heading) in this country. He brought this recent William Saletan article (on Slate.com) to my attention, right when I was so discouraged about the truncated media coverage of stem cell research. It’s nice to see that opinion-ators on both sides of the spectrum see the danger in adapting an “ends justify the means” approach to science.

GetReligion.org has some helpful analysis of the media coverage.

culture making

2009-03-10T21:59:00.000-05:00

I recently finished "Culture Making" by Andy Crouch, and it left a little of itself behind after I returned it to the library. There's a lot to reflect on in this book.

byFaith magazine (A PCA publication) interviewed Crouch for their latest issue. His responses provided a great distillation of the book's themes, though the interview focused more on his critique of current "Christian culture" and not as much on the positive, biblical vision he set forth for cultivating and creating culture in our communities.

I can't find the interview online, but Crouch discusses a "sense of dissatisfaction, not just with the political strategy [of evangelicals], but with the subculture strategy--the strategy of creating culture by and for Christians rather than out in the public marketplace, for our neighbors whether they're Christians or not."

I think this is what makes so many Christians eschew the label "evangelical." It has so many bad political and cultural connotations. Crouch offers a helpful way forward, centered on examining our posture toward culture. I need to think of more ways to cultivate and create culture, not just critique and consume it. Ideas?

seek the city

2009-03-09T21:48:00.009-05:00

Jeremiah 29:5, 7
“Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce … seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”

I’ve been considering this verse as we prepare to live in/around Washington, DC, because it’s a city preoccupied with national policies, international events, and just power in general. The city itself seems secondary, and a lot of its residents are just passing through. What will it mean to “seek the welfare of the city” there? What will it mean in the context of a church community?

This interview offers some good thoughts on the church engaging city leaders, instead of being set 'against' local government.

I also like the part of the verse about planting gardens and eating their produce. Scrappy backyard, please!

the blogging endeavor

2009-03-08T16:40:00.001-05:00

A variation of a common saying instructs “Never discuss religion or politics in polite company.” I majored in politics at a distinctly religious institution, and my professional career is decidedly at the intersection of those two spheres. Sometimes it makes for awkward dinner parties (though I have many like-minded friends). I believe it’s important to probe the depths of what we believe and carry our beliefs into the “public square”—whether that means the local park or the presidency. The challenges of my generation—or any generation—cannot be addressed with an insufficient picture of what it means to be human and what it means to serve a sovereign God.

Another saying declares, “I write to know what I think.” Writing is a worthwhile exercise in itself, and I need to do more of it. I may never write an original thought here (and readers may laugh at my naïveté!) but I hope it’s a fruitful synthesis of ideas. There might also be updates from the farmer’s market, because that’s always a more popular topic at dinner parties. :)

why "another lighted city"?

2009-03-07T12:21:00.005-06:00

This is a personal blog, and the title is derived from my initials. As I begin writing, I am preparing to leave one city (a small university town) and establish a home in another: our nation’s capital. The title also reminds me that this world ultimately is not my home, and a better place is prepared.

When I was growing up, my mom took me to New York once or twice a year. I remember staying up in the hotel room, sitting up against the window, and peering out at all the lights.