Sick Day

This almost feels like skipping school. I'm home legitimately today. Aidan is sick for the second day in a row. He has that croupy seal-bark cough. If you're a mom, you've heard it. If you're going to be a mom, prepare yourself for it. It can be very disconcerting in the middle of the night. Anyway, Ryan is teaching today so I stayed home with Aidan. And now I'm updating the blog. A shout out to our friend, Kerry Anderson, for introducing me to the wonderful world of blog backgrounds. This one was an impulse move, but they're free, so maybe I'll change it up later.

So, I'm thinking about friends today. How I have lots of them, scattered all over. And how I'm getting reacquainted with the "long-lost" variety, courtesy of Facebook. And how I'm so glad that there is email and blogs and Facebook, so I can feel not quite so distant from all of them. How I need my good ones desperately now. And how we've been here for 6 months and don't really have any. :( I'm not sure how to remedy this. It's been hard for my kids as well. And that breaks a mother's heart more than anything that could ever happen to me personally. We're no longer in an Air Force community, where people are used to lots of coming and going and everyone is generally welcoming. That's not to say that people here haven't been welcoming - but it's different. Everyone pretty much has an established social circle and they're not out looking for new recruits. The church that we've chosen is in our community, which we feel is important, but because it's both an Anglican church, and in a small town, that means virtually no one our age (or our kids' ages). Lots of people would say to that, "find a different church." But, for us, it's not that easy. We feel a strong conviction to worship with our neighbors and try to impact our local community, rather than travel across town to find the group that looks most like us. So, where to find friends? I'm thinking - just thinking - about trying to start a book club. I've never "started" anything in my life - unless you count the lame "detective" club in 5th grade. There's not a lot of detective work in the average elementary school. So, I'm thinking about this. And praying for God to give me some insight into our situation, and my kids' situation. Maybe we're meant to embrace our suffering for a while. Ryan wants to invite the across-the-street neighbors over for dinner. But since he's chatted with the neighbor guy only once or twice, while shovelling snow, and I've never talked to them at all, this feels weird to me. Do people do things like that? Will they think we're stalkers, or worse yet, desperate? :)

Eating Mercifully

Some friends (thanks Chad and Kacy) put me onto this DVD from the Humane Society (USA). You can request it free at this link: http://www.hsus.org/forms/eating_mercifully_dvd_request.html

Although I've only seen the preview, C&K say that it explores issues surrounding factory farming and animal cruelty, from a Christian perspective. The Humane Society has an "All Creatures Great and Small" campaign that is designed to provoke thinking and dialogue among Christians about the intersection of their faith and the lifestyle choices they make. (Here is my official disclaimer: "The views expressed in the DVD are that of the Humane Society and the DVD participants...") I don't think it's necessary for Christians to be vegetarians, but you'd be surprised how many people think that our food comes from farms where the animals are frolicking around until the moment of death, ala "Old MacDonald."

To my Canadian friends and neighbors: I've been unable to locate a similar campaign or DVD offer on the Humane Society Canada's webpage. But, at least if you're an expatriate, like me, you've probably mastered the art of sending things to your parents, siblings, and friends, and having them forward the stuff on to you!

Softball George Lives!

Allow me to tell you a story: About 6 years ago, Ryan and I and the kids moved to England for Ryan to do his PhD. We were fortunate to have our time there overlap by a year with my sister Stacy's Air Force assignment to England. Stacy has a friend named Janet. Janet dated a guy named George. George liked to talk about his softball team. A lot. So, my sister and her friends privately nicknamed him "Softball George." George gave Janet a plant. My sister and Janet privately named the plant, "Softball George." Janet moved away and gave Softball George (the plant, now, rather than the boyfriend, who was long gone at this time) to Stacy. Stacy moved away from England and gave Softball George to us. Keep in mind, at this point, that I have never been able to keep a plant alive (I will cite the examples of my husband Ryan's childhood cactus - given to him when he was 10 -- dead, soon after Ryan and I got married; and Wade Dumond's African violets - placed into my care when Wade went to Malawi as a missionary - soon, dead (the violets, not Wade, who, as I understand, is alive and happy) ) Nevertheless, we cared for Softball George and he thrived. We left England and gave Softball George to Josh and Bryonie, who not only cared for him in England, but also took him with them when they moved to Scotland. Josh finished his PhD and left Scotland for the USA. And I hadn't thought about Softball George for a long time. This week, Josh and Bryonie visited us in Ontario for an academic conference at Redeemer. At our table at lunch today, Ryan and I met Aaron, a friend of theirs from St. Andrews. Upon being introduced to us, Aaron exclaimed, "Oh - these are the people whose plant you gave us!" Softball George lives! Aaron and his family no longer live in Scotland, but they assured me that not only was Softball George still alive, that he was strong, healthy, quite tall, and living with another family. Who knows how far his legacy may stretch.

From the streets of London...

Adventures in Academic Advising

Most people reading this blog know that my out-of-the-house job is that of the Academic Advisor. It may not sound like the world's most amusing profession, but often, 18-22 year olds will give you a lot to laugh about (or roll your eyes, or make statements that start with "when I was in school...") There are the students who desperately try to get out of a 9AM class because "that's just so early." Really? If I just had to make it to work by 9AM every morning, I would feel like I'd been given a gift. Wait until they have children (statement not meant to frighten the friends mentioned in my previous post who are awaiting the birth of their firstborn). One student, a few weeks ago, used this method to try to pick a class: "Which classes don't have final exams?" His parents must be proud. Today, I had a very earnest, sincere student who asked me what he could do with a degree in Social Studies. Hmm. Tough one. While it is completely true that employers highly value a broad liberal arts education, and that, rather than qualifying you for a specific profession, Social Studies allows you to do all kinds of things, the student looked at me as if he interpreted my response as "not much." Two days ago, a student told me that she didn't want to take any classes where she had to learn "a lot of facts." Truth be told, though, for each funny story, I have at least a couple experiences where students are excited about the possibilities of the future, are creative in their pursuits, seeking God's voice in their decisions, and are thinking globally. Just don't ask them to do it before 11AM.

Thank You, Anonymous Friend

Here's a shout out to whichever of my dear friends (or family members) decide to surprise me with a copy of the "Discourses of Brigham Young". You must have known that I have had my eye on it at thriftbooks.com for a while now. Now if only I had a rainy day.... :)

Christmas at the O'Dowds

Blogging About Nothing

So, a current houseguest and friend told me that she keeps checking my blog, but hasn't seen anything since "the turkey one." So, I feel compelled to blog, but not sure what to talk about. There's quite a lot rambling around in this head. Oh, I know - babies. I've been thinking a lot about babies. (Don't anyone get either excited or nervous -- I've already been told that if I want another one of my own, I will have to find another husband. I like the one husband I have, so I guess I'll have to be content to talk and think about other people's babies...) Right now, my life is chock full of babies and the idea of babies -- there is my friend who waited a long time for marriage and babies and is now happily counting down the days until the second of those two arrives, my friends who've been trying for a while and God is rewarding their patience with not one, but two (!), there are friends who are waiting on a word from an African government so that they can bring their new daughter home, those whom I dearly love who had the promise of a baby who has now gone ahead of them into the arms of God, and those who are still waiting, waiting... It's interesting, and happy, and sad, to think how much joy and pain these little lives can bring. Recently, as we've begun Epiphany, I was thinking about the words of Simeon, in the temple, to Mary, about how her soul would one day be pierced - she didn't know at the time that this would be the death of her son. And I was remembering, too, the words of a pastor who remarked that the curse of pain in childbearing probably wasn't limited to just the physical laboring to bring children into the world, but that our pain would be extended as we worry about our children, grieve over injustices done to them or the consequences of foolish choices, and even, sometimes, have to say a last good-bye to them - at least until we are all renewed. I can't imagine my life without them, but then, neither could I have anticipated how hard it would be to raise them well. I didn't appreciate my own mom enough (sorry Mom!) - maybe no one fully does until they find themselves in the same position. Wow. It's hard. Thanks be to God that he doesn't leave us alone with them!
OK - new topic. Far less profound and warm and fuzzy. I call it "Ode to Bowl Season." You may begin to tune me out now if you are not a NCAA football fan. Or, at least skip down a few lines to the non-football banter. I love Bowl season. In our house, we like to have the Bowl games on, even if we're not watching them intently. We like the sounds -- the announcers, the marching bands, the clashing of helmets, the melodrama of the pre-game hype. And even though I sometimes wonder if the idea of your team making it to a Bowl is somehow diminished by the fact that there are SO MANY Bowl games now (I think I read somewhere that there are 60?) - how can you not appreciate getting to watch 60 more football games at the end of the regular season! At least if you're not living in Canada :( I'm sorry to my Canadian friends and neighbors, but never was more frustration felt in the O'Dowd household than when we went to turn on the Outback Bowl (or some other game) and found instead -- "World Championship Junior Hockey" -- exhibition games, at that. Disappointing. We weren't entirely thwarted -- we did get to see a bunch of them. My particular favorite thus far has been the Sugar Bowl. Bowl Buster team Utah crushed the hopes and desires of the Alabama Crimson Tide. There was much rejoicing here. At least by me -- since we live in the Eastern Time Zone, Ryan was long asleep when Utah dumped the Gatorade. I felt a surge of pride that a team from our own conference (the Mountain West - home of the Colorado State Rams and the US Air Force Academy Falcons) beat a mighty SEC team like Alabama. A school that is so proud, to the point of idolatrous, of its football team. Yay!!!!!
This brings up my last point - the end of the holiday season. I tried in vain this year not to set my expectations too high. I tried to tell myself that it wouldn't matter if I didn't do cut-out cookies with the kids. That it wouldn't matter if we didn't drive around to see the lights. Etc. Etc. However, myself didn't really listen, and as a result, I found myself as tired after the Christmas break, as I had been going into it. That doesn't seem right. I need a coalition of people around me all chanting the matra of "It just doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter." But the Martha Stewarts of the world are drowning those people out! Sisters - unite for simplicity! I need you!
This may go down as the most random of my blogs. Maybe the most random blog ever. Oh - before I forget - I want to put in a plug for a wonderful man and his wonderful stories. Mike Hamel is my friend Jenn's father-in-law and he's written the Matterhorn the Brave series of adventure books for the 8-12 year old set. If you know and love an 8-12 year old, you must check out this series. He based it on bedtime stories he developed for his children, and his children are all characters in the story (in fantastic forms!) He's recently lost his publisher and is searching for a new one, but his books can be found on Amazon. Let's support him and support quality books for kids! Our most voracious reader gave them an enthusiastic thumbs up. High praise indeed.
Ending now.