Christmas

It's Christmas but for my purposes it might as well be Thanksgiving. Or a combination of the two. I'm thankful and I'm committed. The details are fuzzy, but both are to God, I know that.

It almost seems, lately, the more fuzzy the details the more firm the basics, though of course what's considered a basic is a fuzzy detail. But I can never get out of my head and heart, no matter how much Cartesian doubt I employ, that there is a God and it's his side I want to be on, whatever that means. I'm hoping that 'want' counts for a lot in his book.

I can also not deny that my grievances against the world, others, myself and therefore ultimately God, are disproportionate and unjust. No matter what one lacks in relation to the world, others or self (and even the relatively rich in these lack, relatively) it could always, always be worse. If I can ever get myself to truly realize that then the beautiful flip-side is thankfulness.

Christmas, I suppose, is a chance to remember, re-commit and thank. There's a deep contentment in that whenever I can do it.

Blizzard '09

I'm back! I finished school a few days ago (I wouldn't say with flying colors, but at least I finished) and we weathered a weekend blizzard and Christmas gifts are almost in line (I even managed a few handmade gifts) and we had company (Val and her BF) over for the first time since this summer and we're in full holiday mode now.


This school term kind of wreaked havoc on our lives. I have not done laundry for a month, have hardly seen my local friends and haven't called my long distance ones, haven't filed any papers since August and there's a stack on my desk to prove it, I haven't cooked anything, in short I haven't kept up on any of the little mundane details that I've grown to love so much (laundry excepted). Zeb has been a trooper househusband, never once complaining and in fact apologizing if I ever feel the urge to clean the bathroom that he didn't get to it first. But I miss those things like sweeping and writing letters and hosting dinners. When did I become so domestic? Don't get me wrong I love the philosophizing that took over my life, but I wish it didn't have to take over to the exclusion of all else.

I must confess I'm a bit worried about next semester. The work will be more difficult, and yet nothing else in my life can give way any more than it already has yet somehow I'll be needing more hours in the day.

I'm trying to not worry about it, and trust that the resources will be there when I need them. In the meantime I'm going to relax hard, play in the snow, make eggnog and chicken liver pate for Christmas, hold babies who've changed so much I barely recognize them, and read M.F.K. Fischer instead of Freud.