Man is a giddy thing...

It's been a good week.

I've had to laugh at myself a couple of times. Let's make a list, shall we?

1. I did the dishes--all of them. Now, I know this seems like a menial task, and it is. There's something about it though. The idea of washing dishes really makes me dread going into the kitchen, but once I start and I put the first clean pot on the towel to dry it just feels so purifying. It gives me time to stop thinking about all of the other things that are distracting me and allows me to get right to the heart of me. That personal reflection time is good for my introverted self.

2. On Tuesday, I just couldn't get away from all of the distractions--the tangible ones like the TV and my computer. Do you ever feel that way? Like technology is strapping you down and making you waste time and sucking away your productivity? I do. And it's everywhere. I needed to get some writing, and I wanted to--I needed to unplug and just be with the pen and paper for a while. So...I decided that I was going to soak my feet in the tub. I basically moved my "office" (I don't have an office, who am I kidding?) into the bathroom. For obvious reasons, my computer can't sit with me on the edge of the tub. My iPod did come with me though so I could play some music with its small speaker and cut the silence. It was a strange thing, going to the bathroom to get away from all of the distractions. I just wish it was more comfortable to sit on the edge of the tub....

3. We're having a garage sale! I have a lot of stuff (and a good part of it can just go away). About every summer I try to do a deep clean of my room...Last summer I got about half way done and gave up. So, now with a garage sale date in mind, I've been begun the purge again. I went through my dresser yesterday...and I threw away a multitude of old socks and underpants. Seriously, why do we (maybe it's just me, but I doubt it) horde old socks? It's not like we wear them...they just take up space while the elastic really gets bad. The same with old underpants. Seriously, what do we think is going to happen to them? There isn't a fairy that comes and takes those things away like the tooth fairy...they just sit in the drawers. And most of them don't have pairs anymore either. That's just sad, put them out of their misery.

4. Last night, Daddy came into my room to see the progress...and his one comment was, "You have a lot of stuff...and you've hit your limit for bookshelves in this space." How very true. Three large bookshelves take up a lot of room. My response was, "I have enough stuff for an apartment." I really do...and the idea that "a place of my own" might be in the cards in the next year or so is really exciting. I mean, words cannot describe how fantastic that would be. Granted, I would miss eating with the folks because they do food really well...but I would really like not having to retreat to the bathroom to get some alone time to write.

5. Writing Workshop on Wednesday was wonderful. (Do you like all those w's? I do.) I knew this was going to be different then any writing experience I have had. How did I know this? Because my cousin is part of the group, and I knew she would be asking hard questions about my story. Questions with answers I had never articulated to another person. I also knew that she was going to make me really get into the grit of it--she's a teacher after all. She's used to pushing people to get good stories. This week was no exception. There were a lot of questions, and that is partly because we're getting to the meat of this story. These young women that I'm working with are truly inspirational. I love reading what they've done and sharing with them what I have. Rachel and Kaitlin have been a blessing to me this summer, more than I had anticipated...and I hope that this writing relationship will continue.

6. Rachel asked me how much I thought I would post here...I told her I was hoping for twice a week. Ha. We'll see. So far I'm not doing so hot, but I'll get there. I'm just warming up.

7. I marked all the wedding dates in my calendar, the ones that I have so far. Holy weddings, yo. Every day I get more and more behind my peers in the relationship/wedding/baby scene.... But mostly I'm okay with this. I'm not ready for all of that just yet. There are a lot of things I need to get done independently before all of that happens. Funny how our perceptions of ourselves change.

"The one who's always, and never, alone...does she even know she's the girl with the red balloon?" [The Civil Wars]

This dusty barren land had given all it could yield...

It was recently pointed out to me *cough*LeAnn*cough* that I haven't blogged in a while. I knew this was true, and I had been meaning too, honestly. My new job has left me exhausted once 3:30 hits, and I've fallen into my old napping pattern... But I keep hoping that my body will adjust to the schedule and that I'll be able to get to bed a little earlier so I can stop napping in the afternoons.

Over the last few months I've noticed that I thrive on hope. I'm sure that most of you already knew this, and it was probably something I knew for a long time but hadn't yet come to realize the entirety of its scope.

This morning it really struck me how deeply this hope runs.
I've been hoping for rain--desperately.
I've been hoping that my cousin would recover from her botched surgery well.
I've been hoping that my other cousin would pull herself together and just be okay.
I've been hoping that this "maybe someday it'll work out" would just work out.
I've been hoping that our little first grader with behavior issues would get the attention she deserves at home so she can grow into the creative girl I see lurking behind the tangled hair and eyes that haven't learned to read yet.
I've been hoping that the writing bug would just take hold of me again and never let me go.
I've been hoping.
Hoping.
Hoping.

I even surround myself with literature that emphasizes the idea of hope and I wrap it around me like a warm security blanket. And I even hope that someday my life would echo those virtues that fictional characters so easily embody: strength, loyalty, nobility, honor, courage and faith.

So it's no surprise when I see small glimmers of these things in real life that I get excited and want to capture the moments. 

I have all of this hope, all of this want, but I'm still content.

Even if the rain comes just as harvest season is about to begin, at least there is moisture.
Even if my cousin had 20 units of blood transfused and got E. coli in a hospital, at least she is alive.
Even if my cousin moved back to the wretched situation that keeps throwing her to the wolves, at least she is talking to me about it and being open about the hardships.
Even if "maybe someday" isn't today, at least I have letter writing to pass the time.
Even if our little first grader was in the office again because of a tantrum, at least she is reaching out and she hugged me later and didn't want me to leave her.
Even if I'm not writing as much as I want, at least I know the story is still alive in me and it's just setting its roots a little deeper.

"Oh, Dear I never saw you coming. Oh my, look what you have done. You're my favorite song, always on the tip of my tongue." [Civil Wars, Tip of my Tongue]

What can men do against such reckless hate?

This may be a little late in coming, nearly a week after the fact. Forgive me for the delay, but I've been mulling over the shooting that took place in Aurora, Colorado. Mulling and chewing and praying and...and wishing for peace.

Events like this always seems so far away from my home, the heartland of this nation.

When 9/11 happened I was safely tucked away in my fifth grade class at a rural school--it wasn't until later that I found out President Bush had taken refuge in Omaha.

The Von Maur shooting was closer to home, my cousin worked in that Omaha mall, and I believe she was working when it happened. Even that wasn't home though, and my head keeps saying that this kind of tragedy would never happen in my center of the heartland.

Aurora though... that should feel far away, but it doesn't. My brother is moving down there in less than a month now to go to school. There were kids from the school he will be attending in the Theater that night. A friend from college calls Aurora home and she knew one of the victims well. One of my dad's cousin's sons was in the theater that night. I know people who were there. People who know people who died.

And all I can think is, "How could this happen?" I have a hard time understanding how a man can come to the conclusion that the only way to fix whatever pain he is experiencing is to shoot down people--to fire over 70 rounds into an unsuspecting crowd of late-night movie-goers. How am I supposed to react to such "reckless hate?" I find myself wondering what I would have done had I been there...how would I have reacted? Would I have tried to save those around me with my body as a shield like so many mothers, brothers, and friends?

It's funny, I had almost let it go--the worry and self-questioning. I was on the phone last night with my German-praying friend when he asked, "How is the Colorado situation? Are you still thinking about going out there? I just didn't know how your parents would feel about everything with your brother moving out." I had long made my decision to not to move to Aurora with Josef, and I knew that Mom and Dad were worried. But we can't let things like this keep us from moving forward. (Now I don't know if this friend was concerned beyond the general niceties, but it was sweet of him to ask how my parents were feeling about everything.)

So, I guess to answer the question of "What can men do against such reckless hate?" we just keep moving forward. We can't let the hate keep us from doing what we know is right and true and just. We push forward.

"By all you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand!" [Aragorn, Return of the King (movie adaptation)]

Why are you so far from me?

As usual, it's been a while since I last posted and a lot has happened in that time period. I do promise to be more diligent in posting this summer and this next year. I forget how therapeutic blogging can be--and for me, always is.

Instead of going into long details about what has happened, I think a list is in order. This list won't necessarily be in any particular order beside that which they come to me in.

1. I graduated from college with my B.A. in English. I walked across the stage afraid that my cap would tumble off my head, but made it to the president's hand, shook it firmly, and went on my merry way.

2. The Civil Wars have been on repeat since I bought their CD last week. I can't get enough, but wish they had another CD out. There's something about the organic sound and soulful lyrics that speaks to me...

3. My brother graduated from high school. This was huge because his graduation means that my parents could be empty nesters (an idea that I have ruined, but I'll get to that in a bit). I was responsible for the cake at his party, and it was a big success.

4. I did some house sitting for my cousin over this last weekend. She has a new dog (it's actually her boyfriend's, but the basset hound stays are her house), Oliver is a slime monster--cute, but drools a lot. And he's definitely a social eater.

5. I received four rejection letters. And that means that graduate school as not as near as I had hoped. This is why my parents are not going to be empty nesters quite yet. I'm taking the year off and just working, assuming I can find a job in town.

6. There's a possibility that I could be moving to Colorado to live with my brother while he goes to film school and I work. It's a possibility, but also a kind of last option. We'll see what happens.

7. I went on a date (or two). That was exciting, and the highlight of the last two weeks of school. I could go into this, but I think I'll leave it fairly simple. We're keeping in touch, but since we both graduated and are 13 hours from each other we're not "in a relationship." Letter writing is nice.

8. Goodbyes are hard.

9. My God-lesson right now is definitely Trust--and it's written on my wrist as a reminder. Trust. Trust. Trust.

That's about all I've got for an update right now. I'll see you around though, for sure.

"How long will you make me wait? I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you, but I haven't met you. Oh, but I want to. How I do." [The Civil Wars, To Whom It May Concern]

And all will turn to silver glass...

I took Hansi outside today so he could do his doggy duty. It was warm, but not unpleasantly hot. So, while he snooted out a spot, I took a seat on the back step. And for the first time, in a long time, I just watched the land and listened to the whistles and buzzes in the air.

Four acres of land that is ours. Four acres that I really don't take the time to examine very often. When I do spend time with the flora and fauna I'm mowing, and I have my iPod in and I don't listen to anything but the loud hum of the riding mower and the blaring ear buds.

But the earth has a music of its own.

I started thinking about what this land means to my Dad, as part of his inheritance. And I wonder what will happen to it someday. My Aunt's husband always talks about windmills, which my dad has responded to with, "Over my dead body." He doesn't want anything to happen to this place that will "mar the landscape." He cherishes this good green earth. Why don't I think about it the same way?

I haven't worked these fields like he has--I spent my time in another farmer's corn, pulling tassels. Even when I was working I was singing, trying to make myself forget the heat and the thirst that followed me.

Sometimes I wish I could know what my dad thinks when he sees the fields that his father once worked so hard to maintain. I like to think that the fields are part of Grandpa Rob that were left behind and that when Dad walks around them (while another farmer works them now) he talks to his dad about the things he didn't get to say when he was alive. About how his daughter has the same gait as he did (apparently). About the joys of being married--and the hardships. About his son that would make his grandpa so proud. About the four grandchildren he never met. About how he works with computers now, but he did cling to his art for a long time.

You see, they were both artists, just of a different nature. Grandpa was an artist of the land: year after year he would work to mold the fields and livestock into a living painting, one that changed with the seasons. Dad, well, he would paint the landscape, but he was also a sculptor, he too moved the clay into a piece of art.

I think my Oma works her gardens and the yard to so much because she wants to feel close to him, too. She protects the farm, she's wrapped her entire being around its upkeep. When she is outside in this Nebraska sun, I think she imagines my Grandpa coming home from the fields and giving her a dusty hug. I wish I could witness this love.

So tonight, I sat on the back step and breathed deep the air that my Grandpa must have loved so dearly. I wondered what it will be like someday when I bring kids back to visit my parents. And I thought of where I will be in a little over a year. Will I still be breathing in the Nebraska air, or will I be in Iowa City surrounded by suburbs?

I pray that I will never forget the whistling, buzzing, and humming of this place. That I would not forget the beauty of the grass that fights against the weeds every year. The perfect rows of the cornfields. How could this land still suffer Adam's curse? If this is the curse, this land of plenty, then I cannot imagine what it was like in the Garden.

"In a dry and thirsty land, Lord you are the rain." [Casting Crowns]

Home sweet home...

Some things that I learned while house sitting:

1. Light bulbs burn out at the most unlikely time. Don't let it throw you off, even if they are unusual sizes.

2. Eventually, toilet bowl seats break. It has nothing to do with you--it just happens. And if you freak out enough and have enough nightmares you're bound to find out that the owner of said toilet broke her gramma's a week earlier. You'll feel better.

3. Cats are strange creatures. They're adorable, but they're strange. Don't let their cute appearance fool you--they play dirty. I've never had so many scratches.

4. Neighbor ladies and lovely, make a point to meet them before the last day of house sitting.

5. If you live in the country and house sit in town over the Fourth of July, don't be alarmed if it sounds like a war just erupted on the front lawn--it's apparently very normal.

6. If a cat is hungry enough in the morning and you're still sleeping he will lick and bite your elbow. And then you're arm. And he'll try to get to your face, but if you're lucky his whiskers will wake you up.

7. Some cats like helping you make the bed.

8. Some cats can open doors--beware.

9. You may think your barky dog is annoying, but you'll miss his cuddling.

10. People in town mow their lawn in columns, they don't go around in circles like you do on a four acre lot. Don't be scared of breaking your pattern.

11. People will come and pray over your house when you're not there, and they'll leave you a little flier telling you that they're praying. It's a nice gesture, but also kind of creepy.

12. The guy that checks the meter will knock on your door at an ungodly hour. He's just doing his job, be nice and try not to look like the living dead.

13. The garbage guy makes a lot of noise, and actually picks up early in the morning--it's not just a myth!

14. It's nice managing your own home. The day-to-day chores are actually enjoyable if you turn the music on loud enough. It's also easier with just one person to care for.

15. Don't forget about the plant. You will kill it in three weeks. You will turn out to be your mother's daughter. You will regret this gene.

16. Thunderstorms are scarier when you only have the cats and no weather alarms (no matter how much you loath that weather alarm, you do feel saver with it).

17. Reading seems to be more difficult to focus on while staying in another person's house...mostly because you can't figure out how to make the tea because you don't know where anything is.

18. Falling asleep on the couch with TVLand playing is incredibly easy. And waking up to "The Nanny" can be jarring.

19. It's harder living in two places in one town than two places across the state from one another.

20. Sing in the shower as loud as you want. There is no one for you to disturb.

"This is home, now I'm finally where I belong."

If a double decker bus crashes into us...

Yesterday was a day of firsts. And it is here that I want to immortalize them.

1. The Wedding

No, no, I didn't get married. My brother was hired to do the videography of a wedding at our church. He needed an assistant, and I was happy to oblige. I love weddings! Drinks all around! (And by "drinks" I mean punch of the nonalcoholic variety.) It was a good experience, if not a little strange. (We didn't know the bride, and only recognized the groom as someone I thought was already married.) The bride asked me, "So, are you teaching him?" HA! No...I'm the assistant. I'm just doing what he tells me to do. Although, I have been to a lot more weddings than he has, so it was good that I was there and knew what to expect for certain things.

2. Buying an R-rated Movie

That's right, I bought my first R-rated movie. But it wasn't for me, it was for my dad. It was a western that we had watched in a hotel room while we were on vacation a few years ago: "Open Range." It was good, and we couldn't believe that it was rated R. Walmart had it for a good deal. So, it was my first time getting carded for something other than glue at a craft store. The cashier lady wasn't going to check my ID, and then she looked at me and said, "Yeah, you look young. I'll need to see your ID. ... How old are you anyway?" 20 "Oh, sorry."

3. The Car Accident

After we went to Walmart, Josef and I went to our cousin's house to celebrate her parents' 30th wedding anniversary. It was great to sit and visit with family. We didn't leave until around 10 pm. It's a strange thing, really.

Driving along, going the speed limit (I was actively fighting my lead-foot condition), leaving the radio off to sing a cappella with my little brother, and then seeing a turn signal from my right on a one-way street. My spot in the left lane was suddenly threatened. I think I said aloud, "What are they doing? Oh, crap!" And my feet were doing their own thing, and my hands yanked the wheel left, into the parking spaces. Still, there was the impact, did I blink?

I stopped the car, turned the blinkers on--why did I think of that and not the horn when it could have really mattered? I've never been closer to swearing in my entire life, and I admit that I said the Lord's name in vain, "Oh my God, what just happened?" I could say it was a prayer, but that would be a lie.

I knew Dad was behind me in the truck, did he see what happened? Would he stop? When I opened my car door, and Josef got out of his side--the side of impact--my only thought was of my dad. I didn't walk around the car to assess the damage, maybe I didn't want to see. I didn't ask Josef if he was okay, the only think I told him was to stay by the car. (He was obviously okay; walking and talking, just as shaken as me.)

Then I was walking down the middle of the road, yelling for my dad, "Daddy! He just freakin' hit me!" Really, I was screaming, unbelieving of what just happened, needing to know it was okay. Thank God I was still wearing heals, they slowed me down, and before I could continue yelling I realized what I was doing and shut my mouth, letting the screams die in my throat and prevent further damage.

I'm not sure how, but it didn't take me long to catch up to him, and I was holding his hand, walking towards the other car; the car that I thought was going to drive away. (No fear, their bumper and license plate was in the middle of the intersection.) But they didn't. I saw the woman get out of the car, and Mom was on 911. The passenger of the other vehicle started running after we all confirmed we were unhurt. Mom told the dispatcher, they were ready to chase him down, but he was just going to get her boyfriend, whom she was going to see.

All the while, I wanted to yell at her and ask her what she was thinking; turning left from the right lane on a one way. But I didn't. I was shaking--a result of one of the biggest adrenaline rushes I have ever had. Mom asked me if I was okay once she was done on the phone. I wasn't as upset as much as I was angry. And I wanted to cry, felt like I should cry, but I didn't. She was the one to go back and confirm that Josef was okay. I was the last person to look at the damage. I saw the bumper in the road of the other vehicle, and I didn't want to face what I was sure to be a disaster.

Thankfully: Nobody was hurt except her car and Jimmy (our car). The lady was insured. She confirmed what Josef told the cop. The cop called the towing company. God gave me enough grace to shut my mouth and just be quiet after that initial outburst. Mom and Dad were driving behind us. My Daddy has strong hands, able to hold his little girl's while I faced one of the worst "firsts" of the year.

It was almost midnight by the time we got home. But sleep wouldn't find me for several hours.

"To die by your side, what a heavenly way to die." [Cover by Anberlin]

...each of us must come and go in its telling.

It's a new year. Yadda yadda yadda. It's been posted all over facebook and the news and.... everywhere. We put a lot of emphasis of these things. But why? A new beginning? That can't be it, a new year only means a new semester when you're in school and for the working person it means a new month and maybe a day off work. Yet, we watch the ball drop at midnight and we make toasts and new year resolutions.

Growing up, we always celebrated Christmas with Dad's side of the family on New Year's Eve and Day. And this year we were finally able to reinvent that tradition because for the first time in a long time all of my cousins were in the same place at the same time.

All I could think about while I was sitting there visiting with my cousins was, "I don't really know them any more." And with that realization came a deep sadness. I want to know my family as well as I know my friends. I want to know them as well as I know the characters in my books: those that I write and those that I read. There are pieces of them that I know very well: Charles loves potatoes, Kaitlin loves bread and eats her pie middle first, Kristina likes to smoke after she eats but denies herself that pleasure when with the family. (And then there's my brother who I know better than I know myself somedays.)

My cousins come and go, in and out of my life in cycles. And yet, even though I only see some of them two or three times a month, see some of them once or twice a year,  and some of them once every couple years we are still connected and there are still things that we can find to talk about.

That's one thing that families have that friends don't. If you go extended periods of time without talking to your friends it's going to be hard to pick up the threads. With family, it's natural.

I'm am glad to say goodbye to 2010. There was much hurt. As my dad said, "I think 2011 will be a lot like 2010." So it is with trepidation that I welcomed 2011. I am eager to continue my school work, but I am fearful for my heart.

I have made some choices that cannot be unmade.

Some days I wish I could go back to when my time was not so decidedly claimed by studying.

Still, I welcome 2011, with no false assumptions that I will be able to uphold any resolutions. I will come and go, just like my cousins. I will write, and I will not. I will love, and I will not. I will continue on.

"How do you pick up the pieces of an old life? How do you go on... when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are somethings that time cannot mend... some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold." [Frodo Baggins]