oscars schmoscars

and so, this is why silence in the next room should arouse more suspicion in me than relief

  

Add-on information:

Thankfully, this is "washable" marker that Zoralee was supposed to be writing on paper with, but even with a long, fairly immediate soak in the tub, it remains a dark smudgy bruise-like thing on her bottom lip, forearms, and naval. Maybe our photo shoot allowed it to set in, but that I undertook only briefly and with a grave, serious demeanor so as to not encourage this behavior. I couldn't hold back a laugh at her lips though; she looked so much like Marilyn Manson.

the voices ricocheting off my brain folds say connection, connection

• The earthquake here isn't the hand of God. It affects us because we've chosen to live here, at this specific place on top of an earth that has a shifting, changing crust. What is the hand of God is how we respond to it, how we help each other get through it, coping with our losses. [This is a paraphrase, to the best of my remembrance, of what a minister in Christchurch, New Zealand said in a radio interview. I cannot for the life of me find the specific reference online.]

• Spending about 1/2 hour a day of floor time with each of our kids - playing with them on their terms, actively engaging (not teaching or merely reading to them) - will have a remarkable affect on their intimacy with us, behavior, whininess levels, etc. There are lots of articles on this, but here's one from last decade. This inspires me as a parent, you know? It feels like a real tool that anybody can use right now, cost-free, without formal training. The only thing I have to give up is my attachment to other "priorities" that seem pretty ridiculous in comparison.

• "I am home anywhere if You are where I am." - Rich Mullins

• "The Western idea that it is virtuous to 'keep going until we drop' makes us far less efficient than we could be. Maintaining a balanced rhythm of activity and rest throughout the day increases strength, stamina, and general well-being. It is so easy to continue past the peak of our active curve but, through yoga, we learn to recognize when our peak has been reached, and to stop for a moment to recharge. That moment makes all the difference. It can bring us back to being 'on top of things' once more. (From Yoga For Pregnancy by Friedman and Hall)

• To the ancient Egyptians (and maybe some modern ones too) the dead live on whenever their names are uttered. They meant it quite literally, but I have been thinking of this in relation to naming children. The essence of a person we know is wrapped up in their name, and they are brought to life, enough to stir very strong emotions and memories, when we hear it. Sometimes, right after a death, it's too painful to say the person's name aloud, but there's something healing about hearing the same name in a child, who represents fresh hope and another life yet to be lived.

• Psalm 119 is a rather odd passage, at first glance. You have a poet waxing eloquent about….God’s commands, no less. So, pointed out in my sermon how odd it would be if you gave someone a command and they said something like, “Oh how I love your law!” or “My soul delights in that command!” My suggestion is that the commands of God were a part of the link that held the community of ancient Hebrews together. The commands were mostly concerned with how people treated one another, things like: respecting elders, reconciliation for damaged property, restoration for offenders and criminals, dietary laws for health, a Sabbath rest, religious rituals of dedication, protection for the vulnerable in society (women, orphans, widows), respect for foreigners. And this is really interesting to me, and where I spent most of my time: there were also direct restrictions on the building wealth. No interest was to be charged on loans. Debts were to be forgiven periodically, the year of Jubilee. Also, the land owners were not to harvest the edges of their fields but to leave these gleanings for the poor. So, the commands of God were about creating a structure for a harmonious society. The ancient Hebrew was to find his or her identity not as an individual but as a member of a community, the community of God, where people take care of each other and the laws provided boundaries for mutual respect. - Jon Erdman

little request of all the pot-smokers out there

Heyyyy, maaaan. So, dudes, do me a favor and grow the weed yourself or make sure it's grown locally, would ya? Please, please, please, please, please stop purchasing it from unknown growers. There is a high likelihood that the people who grew it for you are only doing so to avoid having their children killed.

For some reason, the Mexican drug cartel territory wars and other activities aren't reported much in the U.S. national news, but there's a whole lot of crap going down just next door. Not to give you too crawly of skin right before supper, but there are daily beheadings, skinnings, executions, village takeovers, and all other manner of unpleasantries being carried out by cartel members - sometimes only minutes from our country's borders. The perpetrators do these things for revenge on opposing cartel members and to intimidate the townspeople into growing their dope and/or transporting it into the U.S. illegally. Crack, meth, and other drugs too, but mostly marijuana. There's a phrase in Mexico, plato o plomo, which means "silver or lead." In this application, it essentially means, "You can either accept payment to cooperate with us or a bullet to not."

Living in a Texas-Mexico border town and being exposed to immigration and drug issues, I am aware now of the pandemonium happening all over Mexico in a way I never really was. I haven't written much about this yet, though I would like to - maybe down the road, when we ourselves are a little further out of harm's way. 

  

Man from Tepehuan Indian tribe stands

A man from the Tepehuan Indian tribe stands with his head lowered in Tierras Coloradas February 8, 2011. Just after Christmas, drug hitmen rolled into the isolated village of Tierras Coloradas and burned it down, leaving more than 150 people, mostly children, homeless in the raw mountain winter. The residents, Tepehuan Indians who speak Spanish as a second language and have no electricity or running water, had already fled into the woods, sleeping under trees or hiding in caves after a raid by the feared Zetas drug gang on December 26. Using murder and intimidation, rival cartels are fighting for control of this drug-growing area. Picture taken February 8, 2011. To match Feature MEXICO-DRUGS REUTERS/Mica Rosenberg                  *  *  *     Here's the whole article.    *  *  *

a few Zora-isms

Encouragement - - 

            [to me] Your hair looks very tired and very worse.

Global concerns - -

            [singing] God helps the deers...and China.

Watch Yer Back - -

            Mama, you don't have much time.

Fast Learner - -
            [pointing at the Starbucks store emblem] Who's that angel?

Irony - -

            Zoralee: What song is this?

            Me: It's a song called "Echo," by Helen Jane Long.

            Zoralee: What's she singin'?

            Me: A song called "Echo."

(I was disappointed that Z didn't keep asking, like she does about other things, because I really wanted to keep responding with, "Echo.")

mini-quilt wedding pillow

What we have here is a wedding gift I finished last week for my cousin....who got married a few years ago. Yes. I hadn't so much as sent a card yet. It's embarrassing how back ordered I am on wedding gifts for several dear friends and family members, but I have a fresh wind of inspiration, and the wind is comprised of these three facts: we leave Texas in a little over a month, then Zoralee and I spend two months in Montana preparing for a new baby, and then we join Jason on the prairies of North Dakota. I am not dragging these scraps of material around to any more States of the Union.
 
Since it took me this long to sew a simple pillow, you can understand my rationale that making an entire quilt was hysterically optimistic. But I like the idea of something hand-made, something old-style, something classic for such an event as a wedding. Thus, the mini-quilt in the form of a pillow was born. It looks like a quilt, see, but it is a decorative pillow for couch or bed. It unsnaps there on one side and is machine-washable. It's made in the colors of the couple's wedding, and the W is for "Wedding." ha ha ha. Actually, W is the first letter of their last name. The way I figure it, this procrastination / disorganization is actually helping people to extend the celebration of their enduring love. Why stick with a month of gift-opening? Let's get scandalous! 

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Note: I am noncommittally resolving to diversify my blog by including more of my craft projects, favorite recipes, and informal product reviews, because I really love reading those things of y'all's. That's what people have done forever, man - they've shared recipes, they've inspired each other artistically, they've invaded each other's homelands and stolen their seashell necklaces. Let the good times roll.

our tremendous four day vacation

Please bear with an album's worth of photographs; this four days felt like a full-tilt family vacation, so I was clicking away like an old clicker dog. I will intersperse commentary and stories for variety.

I'll tell ya, permanent (non-seasonal) jobs for big, impersonal companies have some serious downsides, one being working five days a week, all year, with limited time off. You can't just quit to go hiking for a month. What's the idea there?! This particular job, of which Jason just completed one year, requires a lot of hours, so our time together has become precious. We try hard to make weekends either eventful or truly restful - both when possible. But last weekend was THE BEST EVER during our 8 months here in south Texas. Jason lined up his days off so that we could take four in a row. It meant working extra days beforehand and extra afterward, but the weekend turned out to be so, so, so worth it.

We had planned on spending time in either Austin or South Padre Island, but the week leading to our vacation was our most wintery one yet, as the edge of the cold front that was hitting the rest of the country lightly brushed us. We suddenly longed to be in a cabin in the woods, sitting before a fireplace. We found one online, and to the cabin we went!

Zoralee quickly tires of car rides.
Here, she's still trying her darndest to keep entertained.

small town drive by photo shooting

We pulled up to the cabin in our station wagon, in the dark and chilly evening air, feeling very much like a real family on a real vacation of old. This place was founded in 1926, and now has 60+ cabins that they will rent out individually. It's very quaint, 50's Americana, an image furthered by a tiny general store and black and white photographs on the cabin walls of people playing in the river, the women in ultra-modest swimwear and the men in hilariously tight shorts. Jason immediately set to making a fire while I put away our food and other things. Zoralee ran around the new digs with wonder and glee.

first night: Z laid with us on the couch and fell fast asleep with no rocking,
no singing, no stories, just conversation - a peaceful rarity

view of the Frio River from our cabin

in lieu of real fishing

 down at the river

a Papa rock, Mama rock, Zoralee rock, and baby in Mama's belly rock

wet hands

washing Mama's hair

getting into place for a timed shot

One recurring conversation topic between Jason and I is household simplicity, with occasional emphasis on the dishes. At the cabin, there was a small shelf above the sink with four cups, four plates, and four bowls. Additionally, four coffee mugs hung from tiny hooks that clung to the shelf bottom. Well, Jason thought that set-up was the cat's meow. He said he could really get excited about doing dishes more often with a situation like that. I asked what we'd do about company, or any time we needed more than four things. He said, "We'd do like old people do: have a china cabinet filled with china." So, I don't know if that counts as simplicity; it's certainly rearrangement. But I can see the appeal.

Jason reinforcing the concepts of "on top" vs. "underneath" vs. "beside"
after she took forever to fetch a paper from underneath the table

During the two main days, we went to Garner State park and Lost Maples Park, each within 45 miles of us, to hike and explore. Whew - it was good to get the cobwebs out of the lungs, even as on the first ascent, I thought, "Now, why do we like doing this?" But as we climbed, I soon shaped up in the brain. We are as wilderness-deprived as can be in the border town where we live, so to see a clean river and bright stars, deer walking about the woods, and the geographical wonder known as a hill, was unbelievable. I could've burst into tears over the fresh air, open space, and safety, if only I'd dared to waste any time with closed eyes.

Are you aware that there are girl juniper berry trees and boy juniper berry trees?
The girls have berries on them; the boys don't. True story.

identifying deer tracks

   

a sweet cave

Caves inspire story-telling.

Zoralee's leaf "umbrella"

She kept an eye on us and chastised us if we let down our umbrellas.

binocular baby

hills

Before we had kids, Jason was set on referring to bodily functions and anatomy by their correct names. None of this "wee-wee" stuff for our kids. No Sir-ey; we were going with the full truth right from the start. From the time Zoralee first noticed that Papa had boy parts and Mama had girl parts, she has called the main boy part a penis. No prob. However, now she asks questions (loudly) and refers to penises in public, which has old Jason re-thinking things. I'm not really bothered by it, because yeah, they are called penises! But Jason is afraid someone will turn us in for exposing our child to lewdness or abuse. I tell him that anyone who has kids or has been around them will understand. Besides, that's about the only term we don't have a nickname for. Otherwise, we go with girl bottom, bum, boobies, potty, tinkle and poopers. By now, Jason has tried to turn the tide and refer to a penis as an It's-A-Boy. Like, "Yes, that gorilla has an It's-A-Boy." That strategy isn't really taking.

Okay, so that was my lead-in to the two public discussions about human anatomy and physiology we had on this trip. 

1. Zoralee and I were looking at pictures in a state park headquarters trailer, waiting for Jason to use the restroom. "Where's Papa?" she asked. I told her he was going potty. "Does Papa have a penis?" she inquired for the 1,000th time in her life. I assured her that he did. I didn't bother looking over at the ranger, only 10 feet away. I figured she knew about penises already, and if not, she would surely get our attention if she wished to thank us for the information.
2. At dinner one night in the cowboy restaurant pictured below, there was a family across the room, the father of which at one point was gone from the table. Zoralee asked, "Did that Papa go potty?" I told her yes. "Did he go poopers?" she wondered. I said maybe. And the next logical step, "Did he wipe himself?" I ventured a wild guess that, yes, he had. That particular family wasn't within earshot, so their appetite wasn't ruined, but I can't say the same for the couple next to us. They definitely heard the conversation, but we were laughing too hard to pay them any mind. Jason's face was suddenly extra sunburned.   

First rule of success: keep your standards attainable.

As much joy as we were beholding, something had to be done to keep our family grounded, so midway through, I volunteered to have a pregnancy-related bout of insecurity and emotional non-fortitude. Other than that, we couldn't have written a more pleasant script.

We ended our trip with a night and restful morning in San Antonio.