Spraining My Brain on the Universe

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My Astronomy class last semester was twelve weeks of reading textbook pages over and over while working homework problems. Twelve weeks of waiting for the physics muscles of my brain to stop being sore and start being buff.

There is something very knotty in trying to grasp the knowledge of planets, galaxies and atomic particles that I can’t imagine moving faster than I can imagine in a universe bigger than I can imagine. I can’t even completely comprehend that we’re hurtling through space right now, thousands of kilometers an hour.

Astonishing, ridiculous, unbelievable, huge. Those were words I thought a lot, times when I drove home blinking away prickly tears of wonder because it was just so COOL and my brain could not bear up under the weight of so much new enormous knowledge.

The week after classes ended we went camping. A few days filled with familiar woods, a small clearing with a small tent, a warm sleeping bag and friends. It was a lot of simplicity and joy.

We went hiking on our last day; strolling down that quiet, shady path life felt small, and immediate.  My world was nothing more than a cool breeze, the sound of birds, and feet plopping through soft, muddy ground. In that space of time it was exactly enough. To spend life wandering though a green forest, never thinking beyond what adventure I might have today and when my next food time is.

But into that little moment crowded the unimaginable universe along with our own beautiful, broken world: the wars, the droughts, the latest inventions, the newest masterpieces of science and art. It gave me such an achy feeling of juxtaposition, not sure if I wanted to change the world, or escape it.  

Which is worse? Forgoing simple pleasures and small wonders for the stress of grandeur and discovery, or forgetting the rest of the world in favor of a life lived in small, rich moments.

I feel like both are irresponsible and leave me missing out on some important piece of the human experience. So I’m left with the tricky, exciting task of finding some balance, and the ultimately comforting knowledge that the reach of God is both infinitely large and infinitely small.

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How to Scare A Wild Animal 101

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I love camping. Even in my younger years when sleeping in a tent meant lying awake for an hour worrying over the wild animals that must be prowling about our shelter. These days those thoughts only keep me awake for a few minutes.

Getting comfortable with the outdoors at night, the creepies and the crawlies and the snufflies and the howlies, is one of my biggest goals for the next year. Having married a fellow who grew up roaming the wilds of Pennsylvania, and now intending to spend a good four or five months hiking the Appalachian Trail with him, this goal has become very important.

I’ve made a lot of progress. Not enough yet to brave a solo nightimte trek to the outhouse, but enough that when we went camping for a few days last week I barely even entertained the thought of how many coyotes would be circling our campsite that night.

When we crawled into our tent the first night I fell asleep happy serenaded by the forest and the sleepy breathing of my friends. As the dreamer of many odd dreams, it didn’t bother me that sometime in the middle of the night I started dreaming that my fellow campmates were talking about a raccoon in the tent. As I confidently reassured them that there were no raccoons in the tent I slowly realized that I was awake and had woken up to a whispered conversation about a raccoon possibly in our campsite.

We had dragged the majority of our food into the tent the night before, but had left a small sealed cooler and a carton of eggs wrapped in a plastic bag on the picnic table. During my first moments of wakefulness there was quiet discussion over whether or not there really was an animal on the picnic table, whether or not it really was a raccoon, and whether it really was trying to get into the food.

We were all four awake by this time, lying nervously, our ears straining for stray rustles and snuffles. Until in the silence came the sudden loud crash of the cooler falling off the bench. I sat bolt upright, all disorientation gone. Visions of a fat, greedy raccoon feasting on my precious bacon danced in my head. Peering out the tent window I clapped my hands and loudly shouted “Hey!” No reaction. No one moved.

“Guys! he’s taking our food!”

But the time for talking was gone. Throwing off the sleeping bag and unzipping the door I spilled out onto the dewy grass. I couldn’t see a thing without my contacts but my blindness only made me bolder. With a shout I bolted towards the picnic table, hissing and clapping and prancing as ferociously as I knew how.

With a sudden scuttle and a frantic rustle of plastic bag came the sound of a startled raccoon dashing off into the forest leaving me and my adrenaline rush standing victorious.

As I rounded the end of the table I could see scattered eggs glowing in the moonlight. The carton, the bag and the coon were gone, but they had left a trail of eggs in their wake, eight of which were miraculously unbroken. I gathered them together and piled them into the empty spaces of the cooler. Climbing back into the tent confidently carrying the rescued cooler, I felt like a conquering hero.

Curling up in my sleeping bag with a few giddy giggles I closed my eyes peacefully and didn’t wake for the rest of the night.

Lara- 1, Scary Wild Animals- 0

Rites of Spring.

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Its’ busyness, busyness, busyness that is so full of sunshine and rain and counting down the final weeks of school.

But then there is the fun of a full life that doesn’t feel like busyness.

Foraging around in the damp, still chilly, early afternoon to collect an entire drainer full of dandelion leaves for spring salad.

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Making some fantastic No Knead Skillet bread for the first time. It was tasty even though I foolishly substituted plain old table salt for the fancy kosher salt that was meant to be sprinkled on top. Story of a plebe.

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Dying Easter Eggs with my one and only little brother. He waited quite patiently till the very end to dye his special egg, which spent time soaking in each and every color and was the grandest experiment.

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Pretty eggs. I’ve loved doing this for truly as long as I can remember.

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The first canoe trip of the year!
Yes, it is a little scary transporting it on that car, but more adventure for everyone.
We were a nervous and twitchy when we first got on the water. Coming off of a long, cold Winter and our brains calling up memories of last fall when our final canoe trip was fraught with disaster and our first, second and third capsizes ever.

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These weeks have been bubbling over. Fresh flowers, fresh happiness, fresh plans to appease the annual Spring rush of fresh restlessness…
Once again, the beginning of each new Season completely convinces me its my absolute favorite. So for now, hooray Spring! I love you with all my heart!

“You can’t stop this love”

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Where else could I possibly have been on a chilly Saturday evening?

In the upstairs of an old antique shop in Mutual, OH we gathered on a motley collection of chairs and benches to listen as Daniel Dye and the Miller Road Band filled that room to the creaking rafters with their playing.

I think it was the rawness that made it wonderful, the fact that the cracking plaster and weather worn window panes weren’t there for a trendy vintage look, but because the building has seen a hundred of these winters. It was the sincerity of the people on stage, bundled in their hats and sweaters, who play because they love the music and the stories of these songs.

Anyone could have come to the show and felt like family. A bowl of hot food and a cup of coffee from downstairs helped with that. Taking a seat on one of the benches along the wall surrounded by the smell of kerosene heaters doing their best to keep the chill at bay could only have added to the feeling. The easy, familiar interaction between the band and their audience would have topped it off. Until, at the end of it all, circled around the last heater, under the gritty glow of bare bulbs strung across the stage, you felt the fellowship and joy of honest artistry and story telling among friends.

Spring Fever: 3 Tools to Turn Around Your Day

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1. A plastic, fast-food fork 

2. A small pair of nail clippers

3. A juicy, ripe mango

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There are two things that usually make my day feel grumpy and groggy: spending too much time in front of a screen, and shopping. Yesterday was a fantastic combo of both these things. After spending a lazy morning “recovering” from the first half of the week with some Dr. Who and hot coffee, we decided to go out.  It was a bleary, rainy day and Dr. Who somehow turned into binge watching Scrubs and the coffee turned to tea and then back again and we got quite restless. So shoes and socks and jackets and we were out the door with not much sense of direction.

I had very responsibly clipped some coupons from the Sunday paper for useful things and had the brilliant idea that we should go use them. Unfortunately, we are extremely distractable and between the store entrance and the body wash aisle we ran into more than a few things. Pickles, strawberries, an exacto knife and a five pound bag of whole wheat flour, and the list goes on. At least our impulse buys are wonderful things!

But having spent more time, money and good humor then we planned, we were short on all of those as we left the store. With an unhappy drive home under an angry sky, things were looking bleak. So when we took the short cut home that ran past a pull off overlooking the river we knew exactly what needed to be done.

We didn’t have a knife but a short search of the car turned up a (still wrapped) fork from Wendy’s, and a pair of fingernail clippers hidden inside the grimy change in the dashboard. The wind outside was a little more than we bargained for but I was determined to have my mango and enjoy the muddy spring scene of trees and dirty water. It turns out I am an expert at fingernail clipper and fork wielding and I got my mango, delicious and juicy. Watching the juice drip off my freezing cold fingers and blow down to the water I started to feel a lot better. The moral of this story is when feeling restless and grumpy it often helps to go get a little gritty. Eat a mango and get chilly and sit on the dirty, broken asphalt that used to be a bridge to watch a muddy river flow by.

Bonus: Levi found some Lego pieces in the dirt, so all together a very successful trip!   

Revolution in Kiev

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Revolution in Kiev

I don’t know what word I could use to describe what these pictures from Kiev have made me feel. Shaken? Inspired? Or some word that captures the heavy, solemn feeling of historical events taking place.

Aside from brief updates I hear on NPR and pictures here and there online I have been out of touch with what is happening in Ukraine right now. These photographs and reports from Ilya Varlamov put a face to all sides of this revolution.

Take a look.

 

 

Hey there Hercules

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So apparently they’re naming winter storms now. I was introduced to this fact on my way home from a family trip to Indiana yesterday to visit our missing sister and brother in law and two outstandingly adorable nephews.

We set out from chilly Ohio soon after 8 am, cozily piled in a borrowed 12 passenger van. There’s not a whole lot of captivating scenery on the drive from one flat Midwestern state to another so we mostly slept and read and listened to music. Our warm breath turned to smokey frost on the cool van windows and we started so see a scattering of snow along the highway as we headed north.

We crawled from the van a few hours later for some joyous reunions. For me this “joyous reunion” involved a lot of snow in my shoes, bloody knees and a headlong sprawl across a muddy driveway. She had shouted for me to stop running before I slipped and broke my face. I didn’t listen. The others were a little less enthusiastic in their approach, but still overjoyed to be together and get to know the newest little munchkin of the family.

After a lazy afternoon of coffee that could probably slay a horse, treats, treasures and good company we set off for home, and were introduced to the newest member of our winter expedition: Hercules. He liked us so much he would not leave, and kept us company for the first 5 hours of our 4 and a half hour long trip. Oh Hercules. He did make the trip seem kind of peaceful though. We rumbled along through snow and slush in our warm cocoon of frosty windows and the whole world outside was white and misty and quiet.

We outran him by the time we got home but I guess he knew our address because I woke up this morning to the softest, nicest pillowy blanket of snow covering everything outside. Now that Hercules doesn’t run the risk of pushing us off the road into a bank he is a good friend again and I’m happy to have him stay as long as he likes.

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