There but for the grace of God go I . . .

I hope that is the right way to say it. I was thinking about how I, with my personality, could go a bit rampantly beserk with my impulses and ideas but for the marvelously, restraining hand God lays upon me. For example, two Sundays ago at church--during the hymn--I glanced behind our pew and saw a young man of sound body and mind with his mouth closed, clamped, zipped! That is one of the greatest pet peeves of mine: men who profess to be believers (and even OFFICERS in the church) who don't sing during worship. I have no sympathy for claims of shyness, inability to sing or this bizarre excuse: "men of that generation don't sing." Especially since God, in his word, tells us to sing to him! As I write this, I am thankful that it is God's business to deal with and not so much mine. In the heat of the moment, I was however, a bit idignant (shouldn't Christians be zealous to see God properly praised?) and had these wild ideas of making a sticker to go on the back of our car and perhaps my guitar case (which floats around the church) and maybe even a few t-shirts or baby onesies that read, "REAL MEN SING DURING WORSHIP" or something like that. I'm not sure how Tuan (or more, importantly God!) would feel about that, but even as I write, I'm once again getting inspred to passively-aggressively prod people with graphic design.

There but for the grace of God go I . . .

Yes, lurking beneath the surface of my already unique self are some odd tendencies and even struggles. One particular struggle that wars within is the result of my mom and dad coming from families that deal very differently with their possessions. In one corner of the ring are the Blackwell's. They are not attatched to stuff. It is easily replaceable--if it breaks, or gets left outside--buy a new one. If you move and the chair is too bulky to fit on the truck, leave it behind and get a new one. Every time my Blackwell grandmother moves, new sheets, comforters, pillows, etc . . . are purchased and her house is always fresh. I love this except . . . another part of me--the Calhoun side which is in the other corner of this "ring" is saying, "no, no, no that is perfectly good don't throw it away, keep it and repair it and store it." See, the Calhouns are possesed by Scottish thrift--NOTHING is thrown away--not pillows, not blankets, not even some trash. If a toaster oven is replaced by a new one and there is the chance that the old one might one day be repairable if a certain part in England is located--keep it.

So, here I am--torn between two extremes. I long for everything to be fresh and clean and smelling good, but I TRULY, TRULY hate waste and feel that if something can be fixed--after all, a penny saved is truly a penny earned. That is why I keep leftovers. The battle came out this week, however, as I began to feel that our bedroom smelled musty. Ignoring the fact that our mattress ( a hand-me-down from the Landrums who let missionaries sleep on it (not that that means anything) and were given it by the Griffith's whom I assume purchased it new, but as far as I can understand when Ben came home from the hospital this mattress was there) is old, I realized that it was probably time for new pillows. They are almost ten years old and have gotten lots of wear. On went the battle:

Blackwell: These pillows are old, they probably have an odour
Calhoun: No, no, but they are Ralph Lauren pillows . . .
Blackwell: Who cares, you shouldn't sleep on stinky pillows
Calhoun: If they smell, you can febreeze them
Blackwell: It won't work, you know. You need new pillows.
Calhoun: Fine, you talked me into it, but keep these pillows and if you ever have a guest bed or when Johnny gets a "big boy" bed he can use them, after all, they _are_ Ralph Lauren pillows . . .
Blackwell: Puh-lease! You paid ten dollars for them at TJ Maxx--they smell and do you really want your guests or SON sleeping on stinky pillows? SEND THEM TO GOODWILL AND LET THE POOR (ER) SLEEP ON THEM.

The Blackwell side won that battle. I ordered a set of four feather pillows from Overstock.com. But you see, dear reader the perilous line I walk daily, struggling between two extremes, as I make domestic decisions.

There but for the grace of God go I. . . .

camp

Wow. I'm meeting with Matt and Andrew some time tommorrow to start talking about program. Usually, I am well into planning, but I didn't decide to do program until after Christmas and "having a baby changes everything." In some ways, I'm not too worried--after two years of being program director I'm learning just what has to happen before camp and what is non-essential. However, there's always the challenge of making things fresh and fun and every year is a year of improving program and coming up with ideas to make camp better. Plus--NOAH--what an undertaking.

Camp becomes a little bit weirder every year. For one, the folks who remember the old days are increasingly diminishing, especially the folks I used to hang out with. Having lots of new blood is wonderful, but it is sad when old traditions slip by the wayside. "Let Us Come Together" is one example. We used to sing that song constantly and at all closing ceremonies, but somehow it went the way of the dinosaur this summer. And the bugaloo! The folks leading it never seemed to get the concept that you ALWAYS end it with the Cockroach because having all the campers laying on the ground pretending to be filthy vermin is just the way to end a song.

During family worship tonight, Tuan and I found a staff picture of last summer in his Bible--we had a lot of fun talking about folks, laughing and wondering about next summer. I'm really getting excited. Before long we should have our leadership meeting and then the days will really fly by and next thing we all know, it will be the end of camp, and we'll all be tired and eating barbecue. What fun.

I'd like your ideas about camp. Even if you never comment on this blog, I do want to know how to make camp better.

absurd purchase, insomnia and nineties music

Sounds like a Lemony Snicket warning. "Beware dear reader as this post contains an absurd purchase, an insomniac and music from the nineties. (10 minute interval) It also includes an insomniac baby who likes to taste things, and a husband with an eye mask on and a pillow wrapped around his ears."

I can't sleep and now Johnny is wide awake. He is playing with a toy in his crib and I am blogging. It's always a bit silly to blog when sleepy--you may say something you regret but here goes.

On Saturday, Tuan asked me to swing by this antique store in D'Lo to see if they had any chests of drawers. I returned home with an enormous rocking chair with a rattan seat, instead of the needed piece of furniture. It is beautiful. The chair also expanded on the way home and in our living room it dwarfed all the furniture but the couch. That necessitated rearranging the bedroom to fit the rocking chair in and then Tuan was highly motivated to reform all the storage beneath our behemoth of a bed. I'm really glad he got into this however, as I was trying to "make do" with an assortment of storage pieces and old cardboard boxes. Instead, he (being his very Tuan-like self) measured the dimensions under the bed and bought exactly the amount of storage containers at wal-mart to fit perfectly under the bed. Tonight, we organized and stored and the area beneath that which we sleep upon is now clean, orderly and matching. It's a "good thing."

My husband has a gift for packing and storing. He can just make things fit when I cannot. In college, he could move from one apartment to another in one trip with just his Jeep Wrangler. That is one of the reasons I married him. Way before Tuan and I were mutually attracted, we were good friends. He was the "guy friend" who was around. The attraction increased over about a year's time, but the thing that really caused me to make the decision that, yes, I did want to marry him, was that he had a lot of great qualities that I didn't and I could spend time with him and not "grow weary." I guess you could say it was both a pragmatic and a passionate decision. I knew Tuan for about four years before we started dating. During that time, I twice had my heart broken and really despaired of ever being found by "the one" and getting married. All that time he was right in front of my nose!

I guess what I am trying to say is that girls, don't be too hasty to dismiss the nice dependable guy who you're "just friends" with because he doesn't fit some ideal you constructed when you were fifteen and foolish. Give them a chance! It could turn out better than you could concieve. I will also say that when I brought out the "list" of what I (at fifteen) wanted in a husband, Tuan fit the essentials perfectly. No, he doesn't play guitar (bass and trumpet instead) and no I didn't meet him at TL (but we did meet at another camp), but he can cook like nobody's business, makes me laugh, and can sing like Louie Armstrong. I am also thankful that there is only one guitarist in the family and that I'm not a pastor's wife (wasn't that #6 on the list?). Mostly, I am thankful to be married to a godly man who is truly my best friend.

I didn't make it to the nineties music. A hazard of choosing the title before you actually write the blog. Shouldn't they have the title thing at the end of the blog?

true first word

I ate lunch with "the girls" today: Caroline, Leigh and Anna at Caroline's house. Johnny played on the floor. At one point, I leaned down and said,
"Johnny, say Daddy."
"Da-Da" He promptly replied!
How cool was that. It wasn't a fluke either, as he has responded to promptings all evening with a definite "da-da."
Big steps indeed!

He also has this leapfrog toy that we keep in his crib. You press buttons and it will light up and play music or say things. When Johnny wakes up, he'll play with it. Sometimes we hear it go off in the middle of the night or way after bedtime. We've found that he'll wake up, hit a button and go back to sleep! It cracks us up. Last night we picked him up from the Vincents (who had kept him so we could have a date night) and Johnny didn't go to bed until around ten. Thirty minutes to an hour later, I went in to check on his heater and lo and behold, he was sitting up, grinnning and playing with that toy. Parenthood is such a joy.

true first words

I ate lunch with "the girls" today: Caroline, Leigh and Anna at Caroline's house. Johnny played on the floor. At one point, I leaned down and said,
"Johnny, say Daddy."
"Da-Da" He promptly replied!
How cool was that. It wasn't a fluke either, as he has responded to promptings all evening with a definite "da-da."
Big steps indeed!

He also has this leapfrog toy that we keep in his crib. You press buttons and it will light up and play music or say things. When Johnny wakes up, he'll play with it. Sometimes we hear it go off in the middle of the night or way after bedtime. We've found that he'll wake up, hit a button and go back to sleep! It cracks us up. Last night we picked him up from the Vincents (who had kept him so we could have a date night) and Johnny didn't go to bed until around ten. Thirty minutes to an hour later, I went in to check on his heater and lo and behold, he was sitting up, grinnning and playing with that toy. Parenthood is such a joy.

painting, crawling, cleaning

I spent two afternoons this week working on two paintings of my family at the beach. The photos would not upload, or I'd post them (in progress). I've been painting them simultaneously and trying to be "loose." It's hard to be "loose" with paint. It's much easier to do that with charcoal or pencil. If I had not gotten a degree in art, perhaps I could be a folk painter, but that degree leaves me a bit shamefaced. I shied away from and never took painting in college, I have an art degree and a shameful secret--I can't really paint. Our painting professors were really difficult and with graphic design as my emphasis, well, I never had time for additional time-consuming classes. Instead, I took a LOT of ceramics. :) So, now I am trying to learn how to paint. Wish me well.
Johnny is crawling and trying to pull up. He likes crawling, but he likes to stand up even more. He is very happy to be put in his playpen standing up. He will grasp the rails and hang on for a few minutes before dropping. I can't believe he is growing so fast! He'll be eight months on Wednesday! That's really hard to believe.
Tuan and I spent New Year's in FLA with my folks. We like to hit the thrift stores and stock up on bargains and books while down there. The only real non-book bargain I found were baby/toddler sandals (one pair tevas and one pair teva-like) they were ten cents for both! How cool is that? We did buy LOTS and LOTS of books and here are a few:

Library Editions of:
The Silmarillion
Strong Poison by Dorothy Sayers
A Jeeves book by PG Wodehouse
Mariel of Redwall
Auntie Mame

Among others, we picked up a Clive Cussler, the Story of the Trapp Family Singers, Play With Your Food, etc . . .
Tuan has been wrapped up in this novel called, Shogun (it's about Ancient Japan, I think). I've been reading a collection of suspense stories and also just finished The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. I read this when I was little and at some point picked up a copy of The Five Little Peppers All Grown Up, which was unreadable. I did remember loving the former, though and while it was definitely a trip down memory lane, the writing was a bit funny. For example, the characters rarely "say" anything, as in "Phronsie said such and such." Instead, they either "scream" or "cried." The writier uses "screamed" for anytime a voice is raised, whether in excitement, melancholy or urgency. The children (and adults) cry out rather than speak which means the reader is in constant confusion about the true emotions of the plot. Also, one of the main characters, Polly, a young woman who cooks, tends the house, baby and small children while their poor, widowed mother is out sewing (amazingly capable for someone under fifteen), can't seem to handle any emotion strain without crying, fainting or collapsing. It's pretty funny, but leaves me longing for some L.M. Montgomery.

life

I like the idea of posting the first few words/sentences of each month's entry--to sum up the year--here goes!

January:
Whoo-hoo! I am so excited. Tuan and I have finally decided what we're doing for his vacation next week!

February:
Tuan and I were riding to church this past Sunday and listening to Jesus Freak. Although Joseph Craven made me feel VERY old when, as he gave his testimony this summer, he referred to DC Talk and Audio Adrenaline as "old school," Jesus Freak and Free at Last are still two of my favorite albums.

March:
Charles Spurgeon is one of my favorite preacher/pastors. Here is an excerpt from one of his sermons on Exodus:

April:
Other PCA Sightings Two are confirmed, the other one sure looks like him . . .

May:
A joke
Man: Doctor, my wife thinks she's a refrigerator.
Dr: Well, that's a pretty common delusion, I wouldn't worry too much about it.
Man: I wouldn't either except she sleeps with her door open and the light keeps me awake.

June:
walk like an egyptian
Well, camp is going great! We have a marvelous staff--from ACs/Counselors to leadership and support, I am daily encouraged by this group of folks

July:
O LORD,
Thou knowest my great unfitness for service,
my present deadness,
my inability to do anything for thy glory,
my distressing coldness of heart.
I am weak, ignorant, unprofitable,
and loathe and abhor myself.

August:
The website snopes.com is a great place to delve into urban myths and lore.

September:
I tried to find an appropriate quote from "little town on the prairie" to begin this entry, but couldn't find the one I imagined was there.

October:
I wish I could think of really great titles for my posts like Caroline, but I do everything hurriedly and titles are not a priority.

November:
I am so tired I can barely move, and were it not that Tuan is still up and on duty, I'd be out cold.

December:
This morning Johnny began babbling some consonant sounds. He said "da-ma" which will forever pacify both Tuan and myself who have both been vying for first word.

So, I'm not sure what to make of these. I could probably sum up the year in a better way than this, but instead I will ask you all to pray for the possible addition to our home--contentment with whatever is decided and an answer soon!