the nose knows

Stella has started doing the cutest thing: when you give her something to eat, or when she's around and you've gotten some food for yourself, she sniffs. Loudly. Sometimes she'll lean over her plate to test the aroma, even scrunching up her face in an exaggerated way.

She is definitely our foodie--her palate is much more adventurous than her brother's, and her appetite knows no time frame--she regularly demands pasta for breakfast, and this morning, I awoke to find her in the living room, chewing on something--"Chicken!" she declared. In the kitchen was an open container with the remains of a roasted chicken I'd gotten for yesterday's dinner, with some suspicious traces of ketchup on the lid.

She's also gone through a bit of a growth spurt and is quite a "solid" kid. Now is the time, I realize, for us to encourage her to eat healthy foods in healthy portions, and to exercise regularly. Fortunately, she's always up for an impromptu dancing session with Mom--or to her favorite Wiggles DVD!

church!

I've gone and done it. Saint Nobody is officially a member of Saint Bart's--a wonderful Episcopal church in midtown Manhattan. I'd been looking at the Episcopal church for a few years and found myself drawn to the Anglican tradition--the church of John Donne, George Herbert, and Auden, and C. S. Lewis--what's not to like?

I attended for the first time on New Year's Eve (with a little help from a friend), and have gone regularly since then. I got to know my way around a bit thanks to a four-week membership class taught by the Vicar, Buddy Stallings, and an orientation session given by the Rector, Bill Tully, and the Rev. Lynn Sanders, who is in charge of shepherding new members.

I brought the kids for the first time last Sunday, which was a challenge, but manageable thanks to the very caring people there. They had a special ceremony for new members during the 11 o'clock Choral Eucharist service. I feel very welcomed and am looking forward to finding out how I can contribute my time and energy to St. Bart's many good works.

church!

I've gone and done it. Saint Nobody is a member of Saint Bart's--a wonderful Episcopal church in midtown Manhattan. I'd been looking at the Episcopal church for a few years and found myself drawn to the Anglican tradition--the church of John Donne, George Herbert, and Auden, and C. S. Lewis--what's not to like?

I attended for the first time on New Year's Eve (with a little help from a friend), and have gone regularly since then. I got to know my way around a bit thanks to a four-week membership class taught by the Vicar, Buddy Stallings, and an orientation session given by the Rector, Bill Tully, and the Rev. Lynn Sanders, who is in charge of shepherding new members.

I brought the kids for the first time last Sunday, which was a challenge, but manageable thanks to the very caring people there. They had a special ceremony for new members during the 11 o'clock Choral Eucharist service. I feel very welcomed and am looking forward to finding out how I can contribute my time and energy to St. Bart's many good works.

one more reason to love my press

Imagine how delighted I was to arrive at the Red Hen Press table at the bookfair today at the AWP Conference to find that they had chocolate bars printed with the cover designs for all their new books. Here I am demonstrating this fabulous promotional stategy (courtesy of Carly).

it's heeeeeeeere!

I am holding in my hands the first physical copy I have seen of Saint Nobody, the book. It is not even my own--my colleague Michael pre-ordered it, and it arrived Saturday. He brought it to work today and let me have it to tide me over until I get home (mine has just arrived at home via UPS). I'll be getting more copies at the AWP Conference in Chicago later this week, and will be signing at the Red Hen table on Friday from 2-3pm and Saturday from 1:30-2:30pm.

I am overjoyed, and more than a little stunned. This slim volume represents 18 years of work--as long as some of my students have been alive. I am so grateful to Red Hen Press for taking it on, and for doing such a bang-up job of it. Cover design by the fabulous Mark E. Cull; layout by Sydney Nichols. What a Valentine!

the sky is blue the night is cold

rhyme and reason

"You must never feel badly about making mistakes," explained Reason quietly, "as long as you take the trouble to learn from them. For you often learn more by being wrong for the right reasons than you do by being right for the wrong reasons."

"But there's so much to learn," Milo said, with a thoughtful frown.

"Yes, that's true," admitted Rhyme. "but it's not just learning things that's important. It's learning what to do with what you learn and learning why you learn things at all that matters."

"That's just what I mean," explained Milo.... "Many of the things I'm supposed to know seem so useless that I can't see the purpose in learning them at all."

"You may not see it now," said the Princess of Pure Reason, looking knowingly at Milo's puzzled face, "but whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way. Why, when a housefly flaps his wings, a breeze goes round the world; when a speck of dust falls to the ground, the entire planet weighs a little more; and when you stamp your foot, the earth moves slightly off its course. Whenever you laugh, gladness spreads like the ripples in a pond; and whenever you're sad, no one anywhere can be really happy. And it's much the same thing with knowledge, for whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer."

"And remember, also," added the Princess of Sweet Rhyme, "that many places you would like to see are just off the map and many things you want to know are just out of sight or a little beyond your reach. But someday you'll reach them all, for what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow."

Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth (1961) Illustration by Jules Feiffer

back to school

It's the first day of classes for spring semester at FIT, and I'm starting right at 9 a.m. with Creative Writing. I'm excited to meet my new students and get into the swing, but it's been a real challenge to prepare amid some pretty serious personal tumult. Among other things, Bob has been out of town for over two weeks (he returns Friday), which means that I have truly been a single mom with all that entails. (Jenn M. et al., I don't know how you do it!)

Stella's sleep patterns have been even more erratic than usual (and there have been numerous poopie incidents), and it has taken both kids awhile to adjust to their dad's absence. But so far we're surviving and have even managed to have a little fun, like when we went into the city to get Stella's hair cut at Cozy's (the only place that can actually cut her hair) and afterwards to Patsy's for pizza. The spiritual work I have been doing has really made it possible for me to handle everything, along with the support of my parents and a couple of extraordinary friends. OK, time to finish the syllabus and head to class!

in dreams begin responsibilities

It is an historic day, awesome in the original, true sense of the word. A day worthy of Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man" (which just happens to be on WQXR radio right now). But, as the president-elect reminds us, the responsibility for change lies with all of us. I came across a passage by C. S. Lewis recently that expressed a similar concept in theological terms. Of course, I have been completely unable to locate it right now. Stay tuned.

saganaki

This video taught me how to make one of my favorite Greek delicacies. Fried cheese? What's not to like? It really works. I should know, I live in a Greek neighborhood. (I recommend dipping it in flour again after the second dip in water.) Serve with ouzo over a little crushed ice, and your favorite bread.

for small (?) favors

Bobby left yesterday for a Florida vacation with his uncle, aunt, cousins, and grandparents. Feeling extreme gratitude right now that I did not find out about the plane that crashed into the Hudson River until after I got the call from Uncle Mike saying that their plane (which left from LaGuardia) had landed safely. Also that at least one member of my family is able to avoid the frigid weather (not to mention going to Disney World)!

I was shopping in the Flatiron District and wondered why the streets were clogged with firetrucks and other emergency vehicles. Went blissfully on my way in search of warm clothing and a much-needed replacement for my shredded, ancient comforter. I was in Bed, Bath, & Beyond, as a matter of fact, when Mike called. And it wasn't until hours later, after lugging my parcels home and getting Stella off the bus, that I turned on the radio and heard the terrifying news. Unbelievable. What a miracle that all those on board survived.

Not even thinking about that flight to Chicago I'm taking in a few weeks...

100 days

Who is Sharon Jones and where did she come from? (Georgia, by way of Brooklyn, apparently.) In any case, I want to be her when I grow up. A fantastic song with lyrics that strike just the right balance of bitter and sweet. An interesting concept that it takes 100 days "to know a man's heart" (and "a little longer...for him to know his own"). That is, of course, a rough estimate. Actual results may vary.

abyss of love

I ask no one to pronounce, for I dare not pronounce myself, what are the possibilities of resistance in the human will to the loving will of God. There are times when they seem to me--thinking of myself more than of others--almost infinite. But I know that there is something which must be infinite. I am obliged to believe in an abyss of love which is deeper than the abyss of death: I dare not lose faith in that love. I sink into death, eternal death, if I do. I must feel that this love is compassing the universe. More about it I cannot know. I leave myself and all to him.

--Frederick Denison Maurice, from Theological Essays, rpt. in Glorious Companions: Five Centuries of Anglican Spirituality by Richard H. Schmidt.

christmas

The hanging of the stockings, and me and my boy Christmas morning (note Granddad in mirror, and the lovely piece of furniture behind and to my left--my secretary, which I will install in my own home when I can find a place for it).

beautiful

Just heard a lovely version of this on Pandora.com by Chris and Meredith Thompson. It seems apropos for a lot of situations right now.

There Is a Balm in Gilead
African American Spiritual

Sometimes I feel discouraged and think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.

If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus and say, "He died for all."
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.

Don’t ever feel discouraged, for Jesus is your friend;
And if you lack for knowledge, He’ll never refuse to lend.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.

tired

Not feeling like much of a blogger these days. And I'm tired of worrying about who's reading my blog and what they make of it (and of me, my family, friends, etc.). Feeling like not being so public right now. And I need to see if I can actually remember how to write a poem. I'm taking a break for awhile. See you later.

under the weather....

Well, it was great being with the fam in Ohio for Christmas, but unfortunately we brought a nasty flu bug with us to "share." Stella had it, then my mom, then me, then my dad. We're all finally recovering.

I'm working on a list of things I've learned and discovered this year, taking stock of everything that has happened the past twelve months. Knowing me, I'll probably get it posted around February--but I'm trying!

merry merry

Here is one of my family's favorite carols, sung in the original German. It was particularly beloved by my Granddad, Floyd Lemmon.

home for the holidaze

We made it. I packed, picked up a rental car, picked up the kids at various locations, and drove us all to Ohio safely. Ohhhhh that doesn't tell the half of it. Plenty of mishegas (as opposed to Michigan).

But I made the drive in only 9 hours. Unbelievable. I love I-78!!!!

WHEEEEE!

front cover