The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by James Martin, SJ

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(Almost) everything I know about the Jesuits comes from James Martin, and the more I read this book, the more I realized that I actually knew very little about the Jesuits. The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything is both an introduction to the Jesuit way of life and an explanation of how those ideals can be useful to everyone. It discusses topics such as simplicity, chastity, friendship, obedience, thinking through our view of God, and prayer, just to name a few. The topics are handled with the humor and insight that I expect when reading one of Father Martin’s books, but there are times when it is, admittedly, a little bit dry. I also think that it’s not an ideal library book. Rather than being read straight through, it would probably be more useful as a book that one dipped into from time to time when one was specifically pondering something such as prayer. I know that I didn’t get as much out of the prayer chapters as I would have liked, just because I didn’t feel prepared to tackle an issue such as prayer.

With that said, I do want to share some of his thoughts that I found useful. I struggle a lot with feeling that God’s priorities are with others and that he gets around to me if he has the time. So I especially appreciated this passage on our images of God:

But my favorite image is one from the Islamic tradition, which depicts God as seeking us more than we seek God. It is a hadith qudsi, which Muslim scholars translate as a divine saying revealed by God to the Prophet Muhammad. “And if [my servant] draws nearer to me by a handsbreadth, I draw nearer to him by an armslength; and if he draws nearer to me by an armslength, I draw nearer to him by a fathom; and if he comes to me walking, I come to him running.”

And this more humorous take:

God, an elderly Jesuit once suggested to me, is something like an old carpenter in a small village in Vermont. If you ask the townspeople where to turn for carpentry work or repairs, they will say, “There’s only one person to call. He does excellent work. He’s careful, he’s precise, he’s conscientious, he’s creative, he makes sure that everything fits, and he tailors his work exactly to fit your needs. There’s just one problem: he takes forever!”

I also appreciated the chapter on friendship and his list of tips for healthy friendships. I feel sometimes that I expect too much or am neglectful of relationships, so these tips were something I wanted to make note of: be honest, be open to challenge, wish the good of the other, know when to maintain a discreet silence, be welcoming, offer the freedom to change, laugh together, and help one another.

The main idea that I got from this book is that there is, truly, a possibility that we can change. I have been facing some difficult decisions and Father Martin’s thoughts on the decision-making process gave me the hope that I could make the right choice, which was about more than just choosing between two options. It also required me to think through the ways that I am living that are not in line with what I believe and whether there is anything that can be done about that. In the end, a big part of the process was about choosing to be a better sort of person. I was especially thankful for Father Martin’s thoughts and honesty on that topic.

I don’t buy a whole lot of books myself, but I would recommend this one for purchase. It has great insight on what it means to live a contemplative life. That’s a difficult task, both to focus your life on Jesus and to go about your work, but these are thoughtful and practical ideas on how it can be done.

Published:
6/25/2010 –
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By Kari
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Guidelines for success.

Front yard.

Did you ever have a crush on a lifeguard? It’s a big theme in books for teenage girls, but it’s a rite of passage I missed somehow. The beach by my aunt and uncle’s beach house (aka one of my favorite places on the planet, see above) doesn’t have the lifeguards in chairs that I always imagined when reading The Baby-Sitters’ Club. Until last year, I had never spent a lot of time at the pool. The only interaction with a lifeguard that I can remember came at the city pool when I was in 4th or 5th grade. I had gone off the diving board and one of the lifeguards approached me and asked me if I could go off again in a few minutes and pretend to be drowning so that one of the newer lifeguards could “save” me. And then I could get $5 of snacks at the snack bar. You know how I love snacks. So I, of course, said yes.

Now that I think about it, I am fairly certain that my terrible terrible swimming skills are the reason that I was asked to pretend to drown. Let’s just say it wasn’t too difficult for me to fake it. (Also, is this actually standard procedure? Do lifeguards generally pay people to pretend to drown?) Sadly, I cannot remember what the snacks that I purchased at the snack bar were. I hope I got nachos.

Mike and I generally sit under one of the umbrellas by the high dive. There are zones where people sit, you see. The families with small children sit on the other end, by the baby pool and the shallow end. We prefer not to take space down there from people who actually need it. Plus, I enjoy watching the antics on the high dive. I have noticed that the lifeguards, in general, are long-suffering. They have to enforce the rules: swim to the ladder, stay off the rope, only one bounce, no running, no back flips. They have to deal with teenagers who are there without their parents, children who are there with babysitters (who would rather be on the phone and let the lifeguards babysit), and people like me who can’t actually swim and have no business being in the pool.

But I have noticed something else. There are a lot of things that the lifeguards aren’t in charge of that perhaps they should be. Inappropriate things happen at the pool, and there is no one to take care of them. I believe that we should give the lifeguards even more power to regulate these issues, for the good of humanity.

1. “Excessive flirting by the snack bar.” Look, we all remember what it feels like to have a summer crush. But when you can’t keep your hands off each other, well, it’s clear that someone needs to intervene. And Mike says I’m not allowed to. So I need the lifeguards to do something.

2. “Your bathing suit is see-through.” Please don’t buy a white bathing suit. It’s not worth the risk. Please don’t buy your son swimming trunks with white on the top. I have already been embarrassed by that at the pool this year. The little boy would have been embarrassed if he had realized it. Also, please don’t let your daughter wear a bathing suit for three or four years in a row. If it’s getting threadbare, it’s probably going to look bare when she gets it wet.

3. “You have no business wearing that.” I’m looking at you, lady with the side boob hanging out. Also you, fat guy in the Speedo. Actually, let’s just put a ban on Speedos. They make everyone uncomfortable. Since we’re talking about wardrobe choices, young man, please tie your pants. You’re mooning the entire pool every time you get out of the water. And, on a personal level: lady in the baby pool with a toddler and a completely flat stomach, go put on something other than a string bikini. You’re awesome. We all get it.

4. Similarly: “Should you really be eating that?” Our pool has an fantastic snack bar, but everyone around you is aware that, no, you should really not be eating those fries. Have a salad instead. Also, please buy a bathing suit that fits.

5. “Careful there, cougar.” Okay, I think it’s gross to call women cougars. It’s not my favorite term. But when groups of women are loudly and obviously ogling the . . . younger men, well, I don’t want to spoil their fun, but I do think something should be done about it. This is a family pool. (This relates to the ban on Speedos above.)

Other than Christmas, I am most vulnerable to nostalgia in the summer. Perhaps you feel that way, too, remembering long summer days spent outside, sweating it out during fireworks displays, bodysurfing in the ocean. Writing this made me surprisingly nostalgic for those days, especially the ones spent at the pool. In college, I had a friend who spent the summers being a lifeguard, and though our friendship has long since run its course, I miss what college represented to the two of us: all those days and possibilities ahead. Based on her reports at the end of the summer, I think she would have appreciated my suggestions here.

What social situations need to be regulated at your pool?

Published:
6/23/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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sacred.

Homemade bread

While digging through Susan Isaacs’ archives, I found this gem about writing as a sacrament. It got me thinking about sacraments, about sacred and healing things that happen in life. If, as The Book of Common Prayer says, sacraments are “an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible Grace,” it almost seems as if the word is too big to be limited to things like communion and confession and baptism. Those are otherworldly holy things that are deeply, beautifully grounded in earthly vessels: bread, wine, water. But outward and invisible signs of inward and invisible Grace? Those are the very earthly things I cling to on a daily basis: the mystery of bread that rises, the beauty of a snaggletooth grin, the feeling of sand between your toes.

I am not a writer by profession, but I identify with what Susan Isaacs says in that post. There are times when I feel that something bigger than what I know is being said through my own words. As if I am the vessel of something larger than myself, which is what I believe it means to be a Christian: to carry the message of Christ in and through my body. I also think that there are times that putting pen to paper is like confession. Whether anyone sees it or not, it helps me to work out what I am thinking, to loose the knots in my chest that form during a frustrating day. For me, that is an outward sign of the grace that is present in my life. You might be an artist or a surgeon or a tennis player, but, like Susan Isaacs said, I think that those gifts that keep you honest with yourself about what is really going on inside you are a sacrament. It is one way to work through and clarify what you believe, growing the faith to go on.

Emmanuel Cardinal Suhard says, “To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.” To live in that way, to have that faith, is to let yourself believe that the beauty of daily life matters and that the things that are so confusing will one day be made clear. For me, believing that what happens here matters is one of the most difficult–and therefore sacred–beliefs of all.

Published:
6/21/2010 –
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By Kari
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insomnia.

As I was (anxiously) awake at 2:30 this morning, today’s Poem-A-Day from Poets.org was particularly poignant.

“Insomnia” by Alicia Suskin Ostriker

But it’s really fear you want to talk about
and cannot find the words
so you jeer at yourself

you call yourself a coward
you wake at 2 a.m. thinking failure,
fool, unable to sleep, unable to sleep

buzzing away on your mattress with two pillows
and a quilt, they call them comforters,
which implies that comfort can be bought

and paid for, to help with the fear, the failure
your two walnut chests of drawers snicker, the bookshelves mourn
the art on the walls pities you, the man himself beside you

asleep smelling like mushrooms and moss is a comfort
but never enough, never, the ceiling fixture lightless
velvet drapes hiding the window

traffic noise like a vicious animal
on the loose somewhere out there—
you brag to friends you won’t mind death only dying

what a liar you are—
all the other fears, of rejection, of physical pain,
of losing your mind, of losing your eyes,

they are all part of this!
Pawprints of this! Hair snarls in your comb
this glowing clock the single light in the room

Published:
6/17/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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You’ve been flamingoed.

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When I came home from work last Monday, this is what my yard looked like.

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My church celebrates things like anniversaries and graduations and “important” birthdays by putting flamingos in yards. It’s a Baptist church, so there’s a committee that takes care of it. And apparently the committee deemed my award to be worthy of the flamingos. Which was especially exciting, because Mike and I had not yet had a flamingo-worthy birthday or anniversary. It was our first time being flamingoed. Or, as Brandi says, flocked.

While I was taking these pictures, a family pulled into the parking lot across the street. I didn’t hear what was said to start the conversation, but as they were walking towards the pool, the little girl turned to her dad and said, “I don’t know. I guess she just really likes flamingos.” And even though I am extremely opposed to tacky Christmas decorations (in my own yard, though I enjoy the tackiness of others), I did really, really like the flamingos. I liked what they meant: the excitement of other people celebrating with me. That has been the nicest most unexpected part of this whole thing. If all you focus on is the prize, you might miss a great deal of fun along the way.

I thought about walking over to the parking lot and telling her why I got the flamingos, but instead, I decided to let her believe that I just really like them.

Published:
6/16/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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To live deliberately.

On Saturday night, after a long and productive day (plus some lounging time at the pool), I decided that I wanted to make risotto. It was a Thoreau move, I guess: I made risotto to live deliberately. From time to time, I want to do something intentional, to make something that takes time and effort and patience. I spent a lot of time stirring that risotto. I would like to tell you that I thought deep thoughts while I was stirring it, but really, I just read Entertainment Weekly. When it was finally (finally finally) done, it was sublime. I could taste each of the individual flavors, and even though it doesn’t seem like the perfect food for a summer evening, it was warm and comforting in just the ways that I had hoped. We ate the entire pot, and Mike has requested risotto every night since. (I have told him no. Who has that kind of time on a daily basis? Probably someone with a maid. Or a personal chef. Who could take turns stirring with me when my arm got tired.)

It is the first day of our summer vacation, and the best way to handle two (glorious) months of freedom is also to live deliberately. While last summer’s pool extravaganza was what I needed in some ways, it did not nudge me out of the fog of depression I had settled into. My summer didn’t have a lot of focus. And I want to avoid that this summer by making curtains and moving furniture and taking care of house projects. I want to read challenging books and work on my scrapbook and spend time with friends. At the end of the summer, I don’t want to simply say, “We spent a lot of time at the pool.” I want to know that, yes, I got some sun on my legs, but that I also took advantage of my time. It’s my own mini version of Brandi’s 30 Before 30 list, and I will keep you posted on my progress.

(I might even make risotto again, just to keep Mike quiet.)

Published:
6/15/2010 –
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By Kari
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Smoothies and shopping.

This week, our Button Club adventures included shopping from the farm and making smoothies. I have chronicled my farmer’s market adventures here many times, so none of that is really new information. But Mike and I did make smoothies before we went. And drank them out of our portable coffee cups.

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Our homemade smoothies had strawberries, blueberries, cranberry juice, plain yogurt, and flax seed. They were wonderfully tart, which I hadn’t expected. I don’t necessarily want something very sweet in the mornings. You can read about our smoothies and our farmer’s market adventures in my Button Club post.

The best smoothies here in Greensboro are, no question, made at the Juice Shop. (They don’t have a website, or I would link to them.) My personal favorite is their blueberry, though all the ones I have had are delicious. The one drawback to the blueberry smoothie is that so many seeds end up in your teeth. What is your favorite kind of smoothie? Share your recipe or your smoothie shop of choice in the comments!

(I must confess that I am amused that making smoothies is something we are supposed to have learned from our grandmothers. I very much doubt my grandma has ever had a smoothie. I think smoothies are more modern than that. Anybody agree or disagree?)

Published:
6/7/2010 –
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By Kari
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3 Comments

To whom it may concern, early summer edition.

Dear Man at the Pool Whose Skin is About to Turn Purple,

It’s called sunscreen. Please look into it. Your skin is frightening me. Also maybe you should stop drinking beer and put on a shirt. I have nothing against beer. I just think you should not get any more sun. Your “friend” sitting next to you cannot possibly be an actual friend because there is no way that a friend would not force you into the shade. So what I am saying is that you might need to reevaluate your entire life.

I don’t even know you, but I am deeply concerned,
Kari

—

Dear Man With the Tattooed Arms at the Patty Griffin/Buddy Miller Concert,

Your arm is covered in a tattoo of a skull. Shooting lasers out of its eyes. At a pair of dice. Over the word “Blessed.” What. Does. This. Mean. And may I just say, it is simply . . . stunning. I, for one, cannot stop looking at it.

You, apparently, cannot stop talking through EVERY SINGLE SONG. And I just love how the more wine you drink, the more you make out with your lady friend. So thanks for being here to ruin this beautiful evening.

At least you and your lady friend left during a couple of my favorites,
Kari

P.S. No, I don’t really want to know what you were doing while you were gone.

—

Dear People at the Pool Who Make Up Fake Names for the Snack Bar to Call Out,

While it is totally and completely juvenile of you to make the snack bar man say things like, “Big Bird, your order is ready,” I think it is funny every single time. Also, I am excited to know that Willie Nelson goes to our pool. I haven’t seen him yet, but maybe I was still looking for his longer hair. I got new sunglasses in case Edward Cullen shows up this year. My eyes couldn’t take all the dazzling when he went off the high dive.

I can’t wait to tell Matt Damon how funny he was on the finale of 30 Rock,
Kari

—

Dear Grilled Pizza,

You are a lot of work and maybe not the most efficient way to make pizza. But you are also fun and delicious. So we’ll maybe see you this same time next year. Once a year is probably all we can manage.

I am always afraid Mike is going to say we need another grill, or a bigger one, just to make grilling pizza easier,
Kari

—

IMG_6740 Dear Adriene, Andrea, Brandi, Dawn, and Susan,

When a girl wins the Media Specialist of the Year award for her county’s school system, it is a pretty awesome thing. But it is made even more awesome when her wonderful friends decide to send her the greatest flower arrangement of all time.

Feeling sorry for everyone whose friends aren’t as great as mine,
Kari

P.S. The glass is surprisingly heavy. It’s like my own personal trophy. I can’t wait to proudly display it next to Mike’s Best of Show trophy.

—

Dear World At Large,

If you are wanting to feel appreciated, I have some advice for you: Win an award. Family, friends, coworkers, former coworkers, church members, colleagues, friends of friends, and people I don’t even really know have showered me with kindness, chips and dip, and flowers. No, seriously: look at some more of my flowers.

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Overwhelmed and humbled,
Kari

Published:
6/6/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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9 Comments

Q&A with Wendelin Van Draanen

I read Wendelin Van Draanen‘s Flipped a few years ago and still recommend it regularly to students looking for something funny with a touch of relationship interest. It’s perfect for middle school students in that it’s about navigating popular opinion and being authentic without being preachy. (It’s apparently going to be a movie, which seems like it would be great fun!) That’s the only experience I have with Wendelin Van Draanen’s books, but I happened to know that a young friend of mine at church is a huge fan of the Sammy Keyes books. When I saw that Wendelin was doing a blog tour for the new paperback version of Sammy Keyes and the Cold Hard Cash, I asked Blair if she would mind asking Wendelin some questions about the series. Here is what she came up with, along with Wendelin’s answers.

1. Which of the Sammy Keyes books can you relate your life most to?

Interesting question. I’d say it’s more that some of the characters and events are pulled from my life than that any of the books represent my life. I grew up with both parents, three siblings, and dogs. My parents also immigrated to the States, so I never really got to know my grandparents. Contrast that to Sammy who lives illegally with her grandmother and a cat in a high-rise and has (as far as she knows) no siblings, and you see there’s not much common ground. But Heather Acosta? I definitely had someone like that in my life. And some of the things Heather does to Sammy really happened to me. (Think sewing pin jabbed in the derriere …) So it’s really more that I borrow events from my real life. Of course, I may embellish them, or play them down (depending on how much I want my mother to know), but it’s easier to write about an event or situation when you’ve actually survived it. A good example of this is Sammy Keyes and the Hollywood Mummy. The solution to that mystery is based on a very frightening situation I found myself in while renting a room when I was in graduate school. I took the fear and shock from that experience and gave it to poor Sammy! In Sammy Keyes and the Search for Snake Eyes, Sammy finds herself in a basement with dangling black widow spiders. I’ve been down that basement. I can’t think of much more nightmarish than being trapped inside it. Again, poor Sammy! Hmm. Actually, the book that may best represent my life is probably Sammy Keyes and the Wild Things. We were big into backpacking when I was growing up, and so many of those things Sammy experiences out in the wild happened to us on one trip or another. Rattlers, ticks, scorpions, vultures, guys with guns, no water, getting lost, blisters … man, I’ve dealt with all of that. It was fun to revisit it from the comfort of my office and poke a little fun at it. So yeah. Okay. That’s the one.

2. What was the hardest Sammy Keyes book to write?

Definitely Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary. I had written the first four Sammys without a contract, so prior to their acceptance I had no deadlines or editorial revisions to deal with. Since I had a full time job teaching high school and two little kids, I’d been squeezing my writing around being a mom and being a teacher. But now in addition to writing Curse of Moustache Mary and meeting rewrite deadlines for the first four titles, my administration also assigned to me the overwhelming task of being the school’s yearbook advisor. It took me nearly two years to write Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary, and after I submitted it the editorial letter that came back to me was fifteen pages long, full of suggestions on how to make it better. I read the letter and cried.

3. I heard you ran the New York City Marathon, Did this experience have an impact on any of your books? (Note from Kari: Blair is a runner herself, so I thought this was a great question!)

I ran the NYC Marathon for the Exercise the Right to Read campaign—to put a spotlight on the importance of school libraries and to raise funds for libraries and kids who have no books. I’ve been a health-and-fitness runner my whole life, but never in a competitive way after high school, when I ran track. The marathon is a tough race and not one that I relish repeating (although I’ve now completed 5 for ETRTR). So I’m not a maniac runner, or someone who was so passionate about the “sport” that they could see writing a novel about it.

But I saw things in New York that I’d never seen before. My husband ran it with me and we were at maybe Mile 14 with the field still being very crowded. (It never did thin out to the point where you didn’t feel shoulder-to-shoulder with other runners.) So there we were, pushing along, definitely feeling the distance, when we came upon these two runners with a rope between them. And I’m thinking, What are these idiots doing with that rope? ‘cause it was blocking us, and this whole thing was hard enough on me without ropes in my way. And then I realize that one of the runners is blind and the other is his guide.

That was some moment for me. I, with my two long legs and two good eyes, thought running 26.2 miles was tough? How would I like to try it blind? I felt like such a whiny wimp.

Anyway, moments like that are the “seeds” I talked about yesterday. And this one was part of what eventually grew into my next stand-alone novel The Running Dream which will be out in January 2011.

So, to answer your question, yes! But not in the way I would ever have imagined.

Thanks for your questions, Blair, and thanks again to Kari for having me. I hope your readers will follow me to the next stop on the tour. I’ll be visiting Mrs. Magoo Reads tomorrow, where the Q&A will discuss mysteries in my real life, my writing process, and what I think about Nancy Drew. Hope to see you there!

Thanks to Blair for her great questions and to Wendelin for graciously answering them. You can follow Wendelin on her blog tour at the following spots:

May 31st: Where the Books Are

June 1st: Steph Su Reads

June 3rd: Mrs. Magoo Reads

June 4th: The Children’s Book Review

June 5th: Write for a Reader

June 6th: Mundie Moms

June 7th: Library Lounge Lizard

June 8th: Wendelin’s Jog Blog

Published:
6/2/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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4 Comments

Good things in May.

Don’t forget to post a link to your good things in the comments. I always enjoy reading everyone else’s lists. It makes our good things even better to share them.

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May 1 – Derby party and relaxing in our hammock.
May 2 – I made several mix CDs that I was proud of.
May 3 – My students rocked the book spine poetry (click here for examples of what that is), I had coffee with Melissa and Emily and had some really good instruction at pottery.
May 4 – Got some good lounging time while Mike went to see Wicked without me. (Don’t feel bad. I have already seen it twice.)
May 5 – I think my good thing is that I called and found out that I am excused from jury duty. I have mixed emotions about it. Normally I would be thrilled to be called in for jury duty, because I love participating in the political process. But the week before the Big Bad Testing is not a great week for teachers to be out.
May 6 – Mike brought home dinner that parents provided as part of Teacher Appreciation Week at his school. So wonderful not to have to cook.
May 7 – I had a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so I went into work at noon. Which meant eating lunch out! Like a normal person!
May 8 – I made jam with my aunt.
May 9 – Mother’s Day lunch with my mom and visited my grandma.
May 10 – Mike bought me some books and a book I have been waiting for came in at the library. Yay, books!
May 11 – Mike bought me flowers. FLOWERS ON A TUESDAY, Y’ALL!
May 12 – Mellow Mushroom with Alisa.
May 13 – I made Mike watch two episodes of Friday Night Lights. Is it okay that I cry while watching pretty much every episode?
May 14 – Made pumpkin chocolate chip muffins for the youth fundraiser and helped them sort books.
May 15 – Went pottery shopping with a work friend in Seagrove. Fun times spending other people’s money.
May 16 – Made blueberry pancakes for the first time.
May 17 – Got super awesome news about one of my students.
May 18 – We decided to take our TV antenna into the bedroom and watched Glee in bed. Also Neil Patrick Harris sang. And made me very happy.
May 19 – I had coffee with Emily after school.
May 20 – Dinner at Bianca’s. It was so good and filled me with happiness. And garlic bread.
May 21 – Mike went to a dance recital, so I had a Friday night alone hanging out and making the house look nice.
May 22 – A full day. 5K, Smith Street Diner, helping a friend with her fundraiser, and one of Mike’s coworkers over for dinner.
May 23 – Mike’s sister came to visit and we took her to Natty Greene’s. And then Alisa came over.
May 24 – Did everything I wanted to do at pottery class: made a piece, trimmed a piece, glazed a piece. Came home and watched Matt Saracen be adorable on Friday Night Lights. What’s not to love?
May 25 – I ate some delicious toast. And Mike made delicious meatballs.
May 26 – I enjoyed watching the American Idol finale and hating on Taylor Hicks. I still hate that guy. I also think the new winner is crap. It’s fun to have disdain for people.
May 27 – People were very very nice to me.
May 28 – My school’s Teacher of the Year is a finalist for the county’s Teacher of the Year. (I like to believe this is because of the awesome recommendation letter I wrote for her. Let’s just say that.)
May 29 – We were at the pool when it opened and spent a lovely day with friends.
May 30 – I took a lazy nap at the pool in one of the chairs.
May 31 – Memorial Day! Mike made barbecue and I had a fun phone call with Brandi and hung out with another friend for an hour or so. These things helped make up for the fact that we got rained out and only got to spend two hours at the pool rather than the five or six we had hoped for.

Published:
6/1/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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3 Comments

Strawberry jam.

strawberry jam

I spent a Saturday morning at my aunt’s house making strawberry jam. For me, part of the point of the Button Club project was to do things that my aunts and grandmother know how to do but that have passed me by. I have certainly seen jam made before, but I had never actually helped past the “pick the berries” stage. Even though I don’t have all the supplies, I think I could manage to make jam again if I really really wanted to. The truth is, though, I don’t eat a lot of jam. So now what I have is lots of jam to give away. People love homemade gifts. I win!

Most families I know have recipes and/or food that is sacred. My Aunt Nancy makes strawberry jam and strawberry cake. Aunt Patricia makes deviled eggs. Grandma makes chicken pie and caramel cake. (You can see the caramel cake here and see my attempt to make it here.) My other grandmother made macaroni and tomatoes, which is my ultimate comfort food. Mike makes the Christmas lasagna. My mom makes the world’s best vegetable soup and her chili is unparalleled. Also her chicken and dumplings are amazing. I, of course, have the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. That are really my mom’s. That she actually got from someone else. But I like it when everyone calls them Kari’s muffins. So let’s just keep on doing that.

One thing you probably already know about me is that I love food. I love reading about food, talking about food, and eating it. If I did a Credo statement about food, mine would be this: I believe that part of the magic of food is that it brings people together. And because of that, recipes should always be shared and never, ever kept secret. You can get my Aunt Nancy’s recipe for strawberry jam over at my post on The Button Club.

What is your signature dish? Or the thing your grandma/mom/aunt makes that you cannot live without?

Published:
5/31/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers.

My freshman year of high school, I took a drama class. We did things in that class that have stuck with me more than I would have guessed at the time. We read The Cherry Orchard and studied the crap out of it, so much so that I could probably still tell you exactly which line constitutes the climax of the play. We had to memorize a poem or a monologue and perform it. I performed “Jabberwocky,” acting out the scenes of the poem. (When I studied “Jabberwocky” with my students this year, I told them that story, but I flatly refused to act it out in any way, shape, or form. They had fun asking me to, though.) We studied and acted out scenes from Death of a Salesman. I still remember standing on the stage of the auditorium, reciting those lines. And we read A Streetcar Named Desire, giving me my introduction to Blanche DuBois. Looking back, I realize now what a challenging sort of class that must have been to teach, full of football players and goths and nerds and everything in between. But that teacher made a lot of really great literature come alive. Plus, thanks to that class, I always get the crossword puzzle right when the answer is “Willy Loman”.

The world is a scary place, and it seems frightening to have to depend on strangers. It is hard enough to depend on the people that we know. Yesterday all sorts of people, friends and strangers alike, were incredibly generous and thoughtful and kind to me. It was a good reminder that, even when we feel like we are going at it alone, there are people in the world who care. Human beings are flawed, selfish creatures who, when given the chance, often rise to the occasion and do amazing, selfless things.

“If we are to love our neighbors, before doing anything else we must see our neighbors. With our imagination as well as our eyes, that is to say like artists, we must see not just their faces but the life behind and within their faces. Here it is love that is the frame we see them in.” -Frederick Buechner

That’s good advice for loving your neighbor just about anywhere: the grocery store, work and school, on the road, in our houses and backyards. It is humbling and gratifying to have strangers teach you what it means to really see other people. I am lucky they took the time to see me.

Published:
5/28/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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Ease her pain.

On Friday, I was pushing a cart of books down the hall when it went rogue on me and, instead of going forward, went sideways. My knee somehow also went sideways, causing a sharp pain. One of my students was walking by and as I braced myself from falling, I made some kind of joke about being a klutz. And then I spent the rest of the day trying to avoid the stairs.

This made the 5K I was supposed to be in on Saturday somewhat problematic. But since I am stubborn and didn’t necessarily think it through, I attempted the run just the same. I didn’t even make it half a mile before the pain started shooting down my leg. So I was relegated to walking the rest, and, I have to tell you, it hurt my pride quite a bit. I am not a fast runner or even an especially good runner, but I do take comfort in the fact that I am never at the back of the pack. But we were actually stopping traffic with how far behind everyone else we were.

Especially mortifying were the water tables. They weren’t just being manned by volunteers. They were being manned by Marines. In their fatigues. No way was I taking a cup of water from someone who put his life on the line for our country when I couldn’t even run three miles without complaining of leg pains. No way, no how. I politely declined all the water they tried to give me.

At the end of our trek, I was again mortified when people cheered us on to the finish line. The photographer yelled, “Sprint, sprint!” which I really couldn’t do. Though I tell my middle school students that no one is thinking about them as much as they are, I was convinced that everyone was thinking that an able-bodied (looking) person such as myself really should have been able to do better. It made me feel defensive and grumpy. Also, my leg really hurt.

After the race, Mike and I went to Smith Street Diner, where I drowned my grumpiness in a biscuit the size of my face. (It turns out my grumpiness might also have had something to do with low blood sugar.) This photo is from the fall, when we went to Smith Street Diner after the afterparty and the afterafterparty of Alisa’s wedding. Please note the size of the biscuits.

(Picture shamelessly stolen from Brandi.)

Those are obviously biscuits worth drowning all kinds of feelings in. I drowned my biscuit in gravy. It hit the spot.

Published:
5/24/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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chewing.

I have joined the ladies over at chew*, and this week, we chatted about domesticity. I shared about The Button Club, quoted Lauren Winner, and outed my husband as a feminist. It was a great time, and you should listen when you get a chance. Although I do apologize for my horrible cold.

Published:
5/21/2010 –
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By Kari
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Scenes from a pottery studio.

There is a guy in my pottery class who sounds exactly like Michael Cera. He looks kind of like him, too, and talks in this quiet Michael Cera voice that makes it difficult for me to keep from saying things like, “Honest to blog?” to him. He makes beautiful scalloped bowls, but when you ask him about them, he can barely look you in the eye.

The people in these pottery classes seem to fall into two categories. There’s the type you kind of sort of expect. The person you imagined when I said I was taking a pottery class. The . . . Birkenstock wearing sort. But there’s another type, too, a more intense personality. There are more of these than you would expect. Michael Cera is not one of them.

Our instructor looks and sounds like Matthew Cuthbert. Except shorter. And on crutches. He’s had some surgery. He’s more the first type of pottery person (though he doesn’t wear Birkenstocks). This meant that the class was a little bit more laissez-faire than I had hoped for, though his gentle hands-on approach has meant that I do actually have bowls. Also, the ladies love him. When he was about to have his surgery a few weeks ago, many of his former students (all ladies) came in and swooned over him. It was simply astonishing. When he instructed us on glazing, it was unintentionally hilarious, both because he kept being distracted and because of the parade of ladies who kept visiting.

We had a guest instructor when Matthew Cuthbert was in recovery. He was the second, intense sort, and he reigned the class in and actually instructed. It was fascinating to watch the class dynamic change, to watch everyone sit down and pay attention. This round, there is a married couple in our class, just starting out. On Monday, she took his picture as he worked at the wheel. Those are the types of pictures I would love to have but that I never take. Out of a fear of being too dorky. I didn’t think she was dorky, though. I thought it was sweet. Perhaps the more experienced potters thought it was a bit much. But, honestly, they don’t seem the judging type.

Because our glazing instruction was so disjointed and hilarious, my coworker and I offered to come up with a glazing acronym for Matthew Cuthbert. Once we cleared up what an acronym was, he was all for it. On Monday, I told him I had it, and he would not rest until I gave it to him. I present to you my glazing acronym in all its glory. Before you get to the “glazing plan” part, you should know that Matthew Cuthbert mentioned having a glazing plan no fewer than 12 times.

CADENCE: for glazing

C: clean your piece
A: apply wax to the base of your piece
D: develop a glazing plan
E: excite the glaze (that means stir it)
N: now apply glaze
C: conform any errors
E: exsiccate, or let dry

I might possibly have used the thesaurus. I can’t disclose that one way or another. Regardless, Matthew Cuthbert was delighted with the glazing instructions. Especially “excite the glaze,” which is, of course, my favorite as well. The lady who just had a baby and the girl who made a toad house liked that line, too.

When I left on Monday, I said goodbye to the entire room. “Have a good week, Kari!” they said. Matthew Cuthbert was still holding my glazing instructions, and he waved them at me on my way out the door.

Published:
5/18/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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4 Comments

Pancakes definitely make you lower your expectations.

pancake making

This week’s Button Club task was to make blueberry pancakes. Though I am not fond of pancakes, I made a solid effort. And they weren’t bad, really. For pancakes, they were pretty good. Mike said he wished they’d been sweeter so that we didn’t have to use syrup at all, which is a plan I could get behind. However, I really just wanted to eat the sausage.

Readers, do you put syrup on your sausage? Because Mike does, and it is a point of major disagreement in our house. Weigh in on this important issue. And check out an adorable picture of Big Bunny eating a pancake over at my Button Club post.

Published:
5/17/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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26 Comments

Going in Circles by Pamela Ribon

I recently had a conversation about insecurity. It boiled down to this: I am the type of person who feels reasonably secure in who she is. I know what I like. I know what I am good at. I know my weaknesses. I am 30 years old and don’t have any kids. I don’t do things I don’t want to do. Where I struggle is with other people. I have a very difficult time feeling secure in those relationships. It’s easier for me when other people pursue me. I never really think that people like me, so I hesitate to extend invitations. Also, I make a lot of jokes so people will think I am funny.

Charlotte, in this book, is kind of the opposite. Her husband moved out after five months only to move back in a month later. While Charlotte is dealing with the emotional whiplash, she decides that she needs some time and finds her own place. She also finds herself incapable of making any kinds of decisions. Except decisions about things like, “Should I buy a new TV?” The answer to that is, yes, buy one that leaves no doubt that it is her own shiny new TV. Fill the pantry, fill the bathroom, fill the living room. Charlotte buys the things that allow her to make a new place for herself, but it is clear as the book moves on that she has no idea who she is. With or without the relationship. And it doesn’t matter if (unlike me) she was secure in her relationships before, because her friendships were defined by her being with another person, and that’s not happening anymore, either.

Enter Francesca, who introduces Charlotte to roller derby. Over the past few years, I have read Pamela Ribon’s own roller derby journey. It has clearly been very meaningful to her in her life, and she writes about it with such enthusiasm that I can’t help but be excited with her. Even though I would never want to do it myself. Come on, I know that none of you can see me in roller derby gear, either. I probably wouldn’t have gone to see Whip It, which, I repeat, I loved, without the roller derby knowledge that I obtained from her blog. So when I heard that this book would be, in part, about roller derby, I was intrigued. I don’t actually want to go to see roller derby. But I can handle reading about it. As Charlotte works out who she is and what is important to her in therapy and in roller derby, she continues to avoid the question of what, exactly, she is going to do about her broken marriage.

I have read all three of Pamela Ribon’s books, but this was, far and away, my favorite. I can’t necessarily relate to Charlotte. I have never been divorced, I don’t want to try roller derby, and I feel grounded in who I am a little bit more than she does. But I know what it feels like to let other people define you. I like what Charlotte learns, through roller derby, about what it means to be on a team together. I think there is a point in marriage where you realize what it means to be on the same team. I remember that it was as if a switch went on in my brain, that I had finally learned how to trust Mike enough to feel safe that he would make decisions with us in mind and that I could do the same. And when it comes to insecurity, there’s nothing that lets you believe in who you are and what you are good at like knowing that someone is in your corner. Though she takes some of them for granted, Charlotte has people in her corner, and roller derby helps her corner become a whole room. And that is why I enjoyed this book so much.

Published:
5/14/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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Flowers on a Tuesday.

This week, my job has been to help someone else’s life to tell a better story. I have worried and cried and prayed about it, but, in the end, I wasn’t the one doing the heavy lifting. I’m just facilitating, watching, and silently cheering. And working my tail off in the process. That’s what it means, sometimes, to work with students. And sometimes they rock it so hard you can barely stand it. I wish I could tell you more about it, but it’s not my story to tell. I guess that’s what it’s like to be a parent. Those are things I hear parents say, anyway.

I didn’t know that it was all going to work out okay, back when I was worrying and crying and praying so much. I didn’t know it was going to be rocked so hard. So these, showing up at my house? It meant a lot.

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Published:
5/13/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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7 Comments

Holy thoughts that star the night.

blue m

“Barter” by Sara Teasdale

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And childrens’s faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstacy
Give all you have been, or could be.

This is the week that we have our state-mandated testing at school, so I expect that I will not have a lot of energy when I get home. I might be rather thin around these parts until all of that is over. This poem is a peace offering of sorts. An apology for not having interesting thoughts this week. It was one of the ones I handed out on Poem in Your Pocket Day, and it is the sort of thing that is helpful to remember when the only thing you expect to see all day are the emphatically non-lovely gray walls of the library workroom. Working hard to make sure that a child has every opportunity to show what he knows and how much he has learned is a beautiful and noble thing. I will try to remember that when I am looking at those workroom walls.

Published:
5/10/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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strawberry season

IMG_6685

April by James Schuyler

The morning sky is clouding up
and what is that tree,
dressed up in white? The fruit
tree, French pear. Sulphur-
yellow bees stud the forsythia
canes leaning down into the transfer
across the park. And trees in
skimpy flower bud suggest
the uses of paint thinner, so
fine the net they cast upon
the wind. Cross-pollination
is the order of the fragrant day.
That was yesterday: today is May,
not April and the magnolias
open their goblets up and
an unseen precipitation
fills them. A gray day in May.

IMG_6687

This is actually a clear May morning, but I wanted to share this poem before we got too far into May. Today I will be turning these into jam (not the water, just the strawberries) with my aunt. May is a lovely month for many reasons, most important among them being strawberry season. We had shortcake last night with some of these beauties. There is not much in the world better than strawberries that were picked that same day with some homemade whipped cream. (If the strawberries can be picked by someone else and delivered right to your workplace . . . and then a nice 8th grade young man can help you carry them to your car, well, even better.)

Published:
5/8/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
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