#cousins
5 FebTop photo: Sent to me by my brother, Ben. Mabel had sent a Christmas package to Jetta, Ben’s five-year old yellow lab. I guess Jetta is a little more destructive than Mabel when it comes to stuffed wooly babies with squeakers.
Bottom photo: Mabel destroying the same toy as Jetta’s with a smile on her big face. [The comparison in photos proves how big Mabel’s head is. But Jetta is pretty petite too.]
why do I …
4 Feb… always cry at animal movies?
I saw Big Miracle this weekend and cried at three different points in the movie. A couple times it was tears-in-the-corner-of-the-eyes kind of crying. Once it was full-fledged I’m-not-even-going-to-bother-wiping-these-away-because-I’ll-just-keep-crying-and-the-theater-is-dark-so-no-one-can-see-right? kind of sobbing.
I sat next to friend Jenna. Before the movie even started, I leaned over. I warned her. “I cry at animal movies.” Hi, my name is Lindsay. And I cry at animal movies. I’ll own it.
It doesn’t even need to be sad. I cried at We Bought a Zoo when all the people showed up on opening day and when everyone pitched in to make it happen. Why? No idea. Was it overly emotional? Nope. Am I a huge animal person? Nope. Was it sad? No. But something about animals on film makes me cry.
Maybe I’m like Kristen Bell – taking an emotional scale of 1 – 10, if it’s an animal movie and I’m below three or over seven, I’m crying. It doesn’t matter if it’s super sad or super happy – I cry. The zoo opens successfully? Tears. The whales are freed to swim about? Tears. An animal dies? Tears. A small child is emotional on screen? Tears.
When did I become such a sucker?
Actually, this isn’t new. I sometimes avoid animal movies because I know I’ll cry. I never could watch the Homeward Bound movies and don’t get me started with Where the Red Fern Grows. No, I never saw Marley and Me because I don’t want to be a basket case. I can be watching a movie about people and never cry. But a dog, a whale, or [wait for it] a sloth?
Hand me tissues because I’ll lose my cool real fast. Real fast.
the glory of convocation.
4 FebI’ve been in the Cities for just over 24 hours and I’m so glad to be here. I feel refreshed and renewed after just getting away for this little bit of time. *huge sigh of gloriousness* [See this blog post for further insight. Further fuzzy insight – I did write it at midnight last night.]
Convocation is an annual conference held at Luther Seminary. As a 2011 graduate, I got to attend for free! It was so incredibly wonderful to be back on campus; I do love Luther Sem. It was great to be in the same place as so many pastors who understand the challenges and joys of daily life in ministry.
The biggest highlight and comfort? Seeing friends. Paige and jD were there but you know – I see them all the time. It was fun to connect again with so many more people, including many of my favorite seminary guys. [Say what?!] Conversations with [not-Dawson-but-another] Kendall, Cole and Matt; lunch out with James; the following text conversation with dear friend Justin was lives in PA and was not in attendance. It was super fun just to be in the Cities and go out again like we did every Thursday night of spring semester [even if this time it was super tame and led only to the mischief of the text conversation seen below].
Coming to stay for convo allowed me to catch up and crash with my Stillwater family [as I call them]. I was even given keys for my weekend use and was scolded whenever I knocked or asked before I got a glass of water [because I was just supposed to walk in and help myself to whatever]. Tonight I was very excited to participate in Friday night festivities with Mark, Karen, and Jenna. We went out for Asian cuisine [mmm pad thai] and then to the movies. [A post about how I always cry at animal movies is forthcoming.] A perfect Friday night in the Cities.
I would completely be lying if I said I was ready to return to my south-eastern MN home tomorrow. I’m not. I could go for at least another couple days of colleague time and Cities fun. The fact that I kinda sorta broke down at my Stillwater b&b tonight is proof. Church is hard. Living alone is hard. A break from it was wonderful but that sermon from Sunday still needs to be written and Mabel needs to be picked up from the kennel. [The fact that they are grooming her before I pick her up in the morning brings me insurmountable joy.] Here we go. Back to it. Lord, have mercy.
[Knowing that I return to the Luther Sem and the Cities in a few short weeks for another conference – this one on confirmation – makes leaving the tiniest bit more doable. St.Paul – I’ll be back.]
wwpdd?
1 Feb
Good question. I know he does wear nice jeans, a la tonight’s episode of Modern Family. [He also hit his kid and drugged another … but that’s beside the point.] I tell you one thing – he’d probably join all those hippies who have taken over Vancouver beaches. [Yea! You read right. Damn hippies. A Dorothy told me all about it today.]
I think I’m going to make a mug of tea and hunker down with The Book Thief, my current read. This week has been exhausting to an extreme. It was a late night last night [hello-four-hour-meeting-at-the-care-center-until-11pm?] and it’s an early morning tomorrow for a funeral. I’ll ride in a hearse. [Shall we talk about that? Apparently the funeral director I’m working with is single. “You’ll get to ride together in the hearse!” says Marilyn, all match-maker-like. Uh …] After a lunch of buttered ham sandwiches and plates of cake varieties, tomorrow afternoon then it’s off to St.Paul/Stillwater for a couple nights while Mabel meets new friends at a kennel. I need to get away. It will be good.
It will be good.
[Forget the fact that there is no Sunday sermon yet. Forget it. Phil Dunphy would.]
good morning.
31 JanCrack the shutters open wide …
The view from my eastward-facing balcony this morning; a whole lotta color and great way to wake up.
things funeral directors say.
30 JanHave you seen the videos making the rounds on youtube – sh*t [enter profession, geographical region, or title] say? [I sadly fall into this one – sh*t Minnesotans say. Oh fer funny.] Consider this only the very beginning of sh*t funeral directors say.
I’m in funeral mode this week with my third one coming up at the end of this week. [bye bye convocation at luther sem] Funeral directors can say the silliest things. Well – some silly. Some just odd to the outside but yet normal for their chosen occupation. I’m gathering quite the list working with three separate funeral home and three different guys thus far. Here we go.
[I answer the phone. My caller ID has alerted me that it is the funeral home on the other end but Mark, the funeral guy, starts the conversation like this:]
Hi. I’d like to order a pizza …
[discussing the transportation to the cemetery]
And since this is the first funeral we’ll be doing with you, you’ll drive the hearse. You know, an induction of sorts.
[different funeral, different guy]
And you can just ride in the hearse with me to the cemetery. You can sit up front.
How old are you?
Feet to the east, head to the west.
[Apparently it’s a rule.]
Don’t get me wrong as I tease – I admire these men and the work they do. I like these guys.
[But that doesn’t mean I want to work with them any more than necessary.] They’re just so … wacky sometimes. [And perhaps you have to be in that line of work.]
Fellow pastors – anything to add?
a list.
29 JanYou know how I love a good list. Here’s a list of things that pastors must [sometimes] do for which we have received absolutely no training or education:
. serve on boards of directors of nursing homes. [I’m a warm body in a chair and that’s about it the last Friday of every month.]
. read complicated financial reports. [what the heck is an ECBIT?]
. the rules of bulk mailings. [and how to address a disgruntled postman]
. furnace diagnosis. [woe is me.]
. tech support.
. talk to the MN department-of-something people about water samples. [at least he was cute.]
. field call after call after call from solicitors for everything from fast-melting salt ice stuff to the new latest best curriculum to engage your young adults. [I call their bluff.]
. robert’s rules of order. [enough said.]
I’m certain there is more and I’m certain that everyone in every profession has a learning curve. Sometimes I just feel like the realm of ministry is so odd and random and varied that it simply makes me laugh. [I could also make a pretty awesome list of the things that I get to do and consider work. Going to camp? Drinking coffee? Playing board games?] Everyday is a learning experience and it’s not always about ministry. Life is a learning experience. [Can I get an amen?]
kitchen adventures.
29 JanThe month of January has allowed for fun kitchen experiments. I’ve already bragged about my macaron success [but you should probably know that out of a whole batch of macaron batter, that was the only cookie that looked like that]. I tried a few other kitchen adventures – some were a-to-the-awesome and a few weren’t so great. Check out the links and if you try them yourself, let me know your thoughts!
Success:
. turkey taco chili [I loved this one so much I’ve made it twice now, freezing single portions for lunches. I love it with a little cheddar and a spoon or two of cottage cheese instead of sour cream.]
. marshmallows [made for kicks. so incredibly delicious in hot chocolate. and I don’t even normally like hot chocolate. I admit – I drank it for the marshmallows.]
. finnish pancakes [Sara and I ate these with a lot of cinnamon and a little powdered sugar.]
. loads of roasted veggies [sweet potatoes, zucchini, yellow squash with pepper and garlic. so good.]
. roasted chickpeas [surprisingly so much more delicious than expected]
. fruit and yogurt rollups [I did not do the sugar step as they suggest. I spread yogurt on low-fat tortillas, added cinnamon, and then the fruit.]
Eh:
. cilantro lime rice [I did make this with brown rice and I’m a self-admitted poor rice cooker. This might be better on a second attempt or by one who can properly make rice.]
Allow me to admit –
28 JanAre you ready? I’m going to admit my failure to you. The month isn’t even over and I have completely and utterly failed all of my January resolutions. But, let’s remember, through the failure there is learning. What did Batman Bruce’s dad always tell him? It’s now how you fall off the horse but it’s how you get back on. Or something like that.
No buy January? Failed. However, I did go through the whole month buying no new clothes/accessories/otherwise unnecessary things. [Small, tiny success.] I learned that as I live in a house now – and not in an apartment – there are things that I must purchase. For example: Mabel grabbed my small frying pan off the stove, licked the turkey burger remains, and in the process scratched off the coating. I needed a new frying pan, so, well, I bought a new frying pan. Then there was that whole Mabel-baby-massacre last weekend; Mabel needed new toys. $50 in fun money? Well, January was at an all-time high for lunches out with various friends. Total? Unknown. [Look at me with no regret for not sticking closer to my goal.] The month did allow me to reevaluate expenses and develop some sort of budget plan [which was lacking]. So yay to that?
$75 in groceries? Failed. However, I now have a better idea of what I spend in actuality. I learned that my favorite Greek yogurt at $1.26/yogurt breaks the bank. So do the “no-sugar-added” canned pears I love to eat for something sweet after lunch. My morning star veggie burgers pop in at over $1/burger and an avocado can be well over $1 if not on sale. I need to learn to be a couponer but first I need a Sunday paper or a good website … or something. Or learn to like to eat cheaper things.
No sugar? Failed. However, sugar intake was decreased. I did really, really well the first two/three weeks … and then I started to falter. It started off innocent; I was offered a brownie during a church meeting. Then this weekend I entered severe project mode and wanted to conquer homemade marshmallows and a perfect macaron. I can’t have sweets in the house or I eat them … so big mistake there.
Perfect macaron? Done. This is the first time in at least five attempts that my french sandwich cookie has truly come out the way it is meant to come out. Each of the cookies is meant to have a hard shell and “feet” – the air bubble looking bit around the bottom. Check and check. My salted caramel filling could be a little thicker but I’m going to take it and call this a macaron success. Serious inflation of pride and confidence this day. It’s been months of struggle. I thank a kitchen scale to weigh my ingredients, my Silpat, and a solid ten and a half minutes in the oven.
