60 posts

Sixty posts had November
Again in April?  June?   September?

Ready for magic

When I wear my leopard-print Snuggie backward (open to the front), I feel like a wizard swooping through Diagon Alley en route to the Leaky Cauldron.

I think I need some Butter Beer.

First flakes

Blustering, blowing, wet white snow
Prancing ebony pup.
Safe drive home, albeit slow.
Winter coats, bundled up.

First flakes fall
Surprise storm
Blue fleece shawl
Fires warm.

Two much joy

Two dear friends selected me to participate in a recipe exchange, requiring me to come up with not just 20, but 40 friends' emails to spread the joy.

After a day emptying out my brain to meet a deadline, this was a fun diversion this evening. Thought I'd share the recipe here. (Day 29 ... how many joyful reflections this month have centered around edibles?)

Nancy's Carrot Cake 

1 cup unbleached flour

3/4 cup whole wheat flour

1/4 cup wheat germ

1 tsp baking soda

2 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

2 cups brown sugar

1/2 cup vegetable oil

1 cup nonfat yogurt

3 eggs

1 cup crushed pineapple, well drained

2-1/2 cups finely grated carrots

1 cup shredded coconut

1 cup dried cherries

1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Beat sugar, oil, yogurt and eggs together in mixing bowl. Stir together remaining dry ingredients in second mixing bowl, and gradually add to wet ingredients. Fold in remaining ingredients. 

Pour into greased 9 x 13 inch baking dish. Bake at 350 for 1 hour or until tester comes out clean. Cool, then frost with Cream Cheese Frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting

1 8-oz pkg cream cheese (or Neufchatel), softened

1 stick butter, softened

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

4 cups sifted confectioners sugar

Beat cream cheese, butter and vanilla together in large mixing bowl. Gradually add confectioners sugar, beating until smooth.

This is a very easy, super yummy recipe with a few redeeming health-ful qualities thanks to a few modifications. I gave this as a bottomless cake gift to a carrot cake-loving friend one year - purchased a 9 x 13 baking dish and made the cake and put a card on the bottom with instructions for re-filling (asking 24 hours notice). I've refilled the dish a few times.

 

Enjoy!

Making our streets safe

This fall, we welcomed some new neighbors to our very suburban neighborhood.  They arrived as a family of nine and we saw them nearly every morning while walking the Zigmeister.  About two weeks before Thanksgiving, they vanished.  Wisely, I would say.

But now that Thanksgiving is over they are back and they brought a friend.

Joy free with every purchase

In honor of Cyber Monday ... and because I got an email with this subject line today from Church World Service and thought it was a perfect fit for Finding Joy ... today I am posting this link to the CWS Best Gift Catalog.

Enjoy.

Simple goals, simple gifts

When asked about his ambitions in life, Jonas Salk (Mr. Polio Vaccine) replied "To be a good ancestor."  Great answer, no?

This gave me an idea for an excellent title to a memoir:  "The Once and Future Ancestor."  (with apology or in  homage to T.H. White!)

Advent ...

... begins today.

The instant onset of Christmas season right after Halloween always makes me a little itchy. Especially so Thanksgiving weekend with the full-on commercialism. It makes me want to hide. It's not just that I'm not ready to jump into festive holiday mode. Or even disgust over the tragic stories about chaos at Walmart stores and elsewhere that took me back to the Cabbage Patch Doll riots in the early 1908s. How is that even possible?

Oh, I do love twinkly lights and special traditions and glad tidings of good cheer and surprises wrapped up in shiny paper  and tied with a bow ... all the expressions of joy of the season.

For most of my life, I had only a passing awareness of Advent. Even after joining a church about 15 years ago, I would only realize it was Advent sort of right in the middle of the season as we were stampeding along to Christmas Day. Then a few years ago, I participated in an Advent study called The Uncluttered Heart by Beth Richardson. Thanks to that study - and the e-nudges I continue to get from the author (I subscribed to her site and get periodic updates through the year), I've tried to be more intentional about this season of anticipation. Even so, I almost missed the announcement of another study - and I did miss the first week. But I picked up the book today for a study that continues through the next four Thursdays: "Call Him God's Son" by Alex Joyner. It's based on the Revised Common Lectionary, which, quite honestly, doesn't sound that riveting. However, as I was reading the first chapter, I discovered that Rev. Joyner serves a church on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, which gave me a chill. Why? It is a rather remote, rural area that happens to be only about an hour from my Aunt Linda's home -- one of my favorite places on Earth.

That simply cannot be mere coincidence.

Triple joy

We had an unplanned outing last night to visit friends whose triplet grandsons were in town. The family was sitting around the kid-proofed family room watching the entertainment. Nearly 21 months old, the boys are at that age where everything - an odd noise, a silly face or a simple game of "yuck!" evokes surprise, delight and even belly laughs. Our visit was relatively short - about 90 minutes - but it struck me later that even though there had been a little conversation going on, a room full of adults was immersed in watching the antics of and interacting with three toddlers. And when it was jammie time, it was all able hands on deck. I even got to help one put on his puppy dog PJs, playing peek-a-boo and tickling pudgy toes and chubby fingers as I pulled them through snug pant legs and sleeves. What a gift before heading back out to our quiet, grown-up lives.

Balzac and the National Ballet

Joy is easy to find in Toronto.

Spent a wonderful day exploring off-the-beaten path Toronto in search of 'cool' coffee shops, eclectic used book stores, and black squirrels.

• Great Coffee Shop #1:  Balzac's, corner of Liberty E and Hannah- robust espresso drinks, with nice work on the foam art.
• Eclectic used book store #1:  Monkey's Paw - home to many quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore including a 1950  Esperanto dictionary that I thought was mandatory for my linguistics major daughter.
• Great Coffee Shop #2:  Dark Horse on Queen.  Excellent pour-overs made with appropriate attention to detail.
• Eclectic book store #2:  Also on Queen, but we don't remember the name.  Eric thinks the primary criterion for inclusion in this shop is excellence in cover design.  Every book was absolutely beautiful.
• Eclectic book store #3:  Sanko on Queen.  This is actually a Japanese store and carries sushi and sake sets, a wide range of Japanese culinary supplies and best of all, a selection of books in Japanese.
• Black squirrels- ubiquitous  

And to end the day, the girls saw the Canadian National Ballet perform "Romeo and Juliet" while the men went to see "The Artist formerly known as the "artist formerly known as Prince.""  As I write this, the men are still out, but Ellen and I loved "R&J!"

Long AGO and today's AGO

Day 2 Toronto

Long AGO, we were camping on the rim of Bryce Canyon in Utah.  On one very cold August morning, I crawled out of our tent to hear a distinctly German voice say "Deborah?"  Looking towards the voice, I was stunned to see my good friend Stephie who worked in the lab down the hall from me at ORNL. Completely by coincidence, we found ourselves camped in the same park, on the same night, a couple of thousand miles from home.

Today, after exploring the wonderful Chagall exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO), we visited the modern art gallery upstairs.  Al had wandered to the next hall ahead of me, but quickly came back saying "Deb, come see if this is Marilyn.  She shouldn't be here, but it sure looks like her." I actually thought he was talking about a painting- maybe an early Warhol or something, but when I went into the room, I was surprised to see first her husband, and then my good friend Marilyn who works at SVSU! Completely by coincidence, we found ourselves in the same gallery, at the same exhibit, in the same museum, at the same time, in the same city, five hours from home.

How cool is that?

Traditions

The two main traditions on the day after Thanksgiving in our house are eating pie for breakfast and staying far, far far away from shopping areas. So we began today with a sampling of pie leftovers, followed by a long, brisk walk to enjoy the beautiful blue-sky day, then hanging of storm windows ... a somewhat lazy afternoon of reading (me) and studying (Lizz) interspersed with bouts of productivity. A late dinner of Pioneer Woman's broccoli cheese soup, whole grain bread and pomegranate seeds before settling in for Bananagrams and reading ... perfect!

Traveling Treats!

From a charming memoir titled “Cork Boat” by John Pollack comes this nugget:

One tale in particular really captured my imagination, a project [Gavin] called “Peripatetic Pancakes.”  A few years earlier, to celebrate his thirtieth birthday, he had hired a mule train to  haul four hundred pounds of pancake mix, syrup, jam, skillets, fuel, and other supplies a dozen miles into the Sierras of California.  There, he set up camp and for the next two weeks cooked free, all-you-can-eat pancakes for any and all passing backpackers.

What a great idea!  Gavin cooked up nearly 1000 pancakes for hungry hikers—feeding tummies, hearts and souls and spreading joy in syrup soaked silver dollar portions! 

I want to do that! 

So here’s my idea- a lot closer to home.  What if we go to the bike trails and set up a table to give out free cookies, candy,  and drinks?  Randomly.  How would people react?  What would they say?  Would they trust us enough to eat a home-made cookie? Should we try it?  Hmmm…..

Always in season

Happy Thanksgiving!

Two nice things

Two nice things:
1.  I worked up the courage to submit a set of  four photographs in a faculty/staff art exhibit at SVSU in January.   The set is called "Elemental Glass."  So far, I have Fire," "Water," and "Air."  Is it a sign of eternal optimism that I assume that I'll create a suitable  photo called "Earth" in time for the show?
2.  An unexpected compliment from an unexpected source really made my day.  Nice to know that even when I feel beleaguered, at least someone thinks I am doing a good job.

Thankful

For a half day at the office

and the safe arrival of the college girl

a late dinner together

and a little baking

interspersed with games of Bananagrams and Skip-Bo in matching monkey pants

while looking ahead to four more days

and an infinite supply of simple joys

Giving thanks

for kids home from Ann Arbor.
for dinner with the whole family.
for a lovely evening by the fire, with lively discussion, music on the piano, and an early start on Al's homemade pumpkin pie.
for our fluffy puppy running wildly everywhere
but not so much the annoying squeaky dog toy.

A few good reminders

Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.
-- Henri Nouwen


Joy is prayer. Joy is strength. Joy is love. Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.
-- Mother Teresa


Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. 
-- Abraham Lincoln


Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it. 
-- Jacques Prévert


Joy is the infallible sign of the presence of God. 
-- Madeleine L'Engle


If you want to be happy, be. 
-- Leo Tolstoy


Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.
-- Thich Nhat Hanh


Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. John 16:24

-- Jesus Christ

Paw softly this floor of mouse

I really am a master procrastinator, especially when it means avoiding the more significant housework-like activities I promised myself I'd do tonight. Pick up/sort through flotsam and jetsam from the kitchen counter. Inventory baking supplies. Add sugar to sugar canister. Make a sandwich. (Dinner, after all.) Catch up on blogs and Facebook. Find basket for fruit. Add Ashton's and Sammy's school pics to fridge. Rearrange photos on fri-- whoaa ... hey, who put these together with the magnetic poetry?

Paw softly this floor of mouse

The afterlife has only milk in bold colors

Wash above my short nose soon

Siamese feet have mean fur

I scratch his beautiful white face

Make everything a quiet symphony

My tiger friend will pounce when my wild brown fat cat licks mice



This must be what Claudette does all day while I'm at work.

-- Me Yow

Congress smongress

The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits.

Albert Einstein

Do you think he was talking about the congressional 'super' committee?  

Comfort and Joy

Is there anything better after a brisk fall walk than a hot bubbly bath in the jacuzzi tub and a bowl of spaghetti and homemade meatballs?  Especially when you are fighting a cold?

Eye funny

The sun was bright on this chilly morning and as I hurriedly left the house for the grocery store to pick up snacks for fellowship time after the church service (my turn today), I shoved my sunglasses on my face. Pulling the car out of the garage, I blinked against the brightness and the odd bright/dark dissonance I was experiencing. I thought it might be the onset of a migraine but I just kept blinking and shaking my head, willing the dreaded headache to stay away.

A bit later, as I was putting together a bowl of grapes, trays of cheese and crackers, and other goodies, I noticed my sunglasses on the counter in the church kitchen - with one lens missing. No wonder people were kinda looking at me funny at the grocery store.

Cranberry zzzzzz's

A lovely evening with friends -- dinner, followed by Muzyka's Christmas CD release party, topped off with the season's first Nantucket Cranberry Pie - made with Michigan cranberries! I'm looking forward to warmed leftovers with Greek yogurt for breakfast tomorrow.

-- Olive Koffay

Family Circle

In February 1918, the first Al Huntley was born in New Hampshire.  In time he became the older brother to Richard and Ira.

In December 1918, Eleanor Robsky was born in New York.  In time she became the older sister to twins Richard and Doris.

Al Huntley lived in rural New Hampshire until joining the Air Force inWW II.  He married Ruth Huntley after the war and made a career in the military until the 1960's.  Eventually he, Ruth and their four children, Della, Doug, Barb and Al Jr., settled in Enfield, Connecticut.

Eleanor Robsky lived in metropolitan New York city and married Gus Beyer.  She became an English teacher and eventually she, Gus and their two children moved to Connecticut.  Not long after, her brother Richard also moved to Connecticut with his wife Elizabeth and their three children, Kathy, Steve and Deb.

In 1976, Al Jr. and Deb met while both attended the University of Connecticut.  Eventually they married.

In 1992, Al Sr. became gravely ill with emphysema and was admitted to a nursing home in Enfield, Connecticut.  Eleanor, now a widow, had moved to Enfield and was a member of a women's group that crocheted blankets for residents of the local nursing home.  When Eleanor found out that Al Sr. was a resident there, she made sure that the blanket that she crocheted was given to him.

Al Jr. and Deb knew nothing about this until many years later.   By then, Al Sr. had passed away and when the family home became too much for Ruth, she sold it and moved to a senior citizen's apartment.    At that time she offered Al Jr. and Deb the blanket since it was made by Deb's Aunt Ellie and given to Al's dad.

Eleanor now lives in Florida where she continues to crochet blankets for the elderly. Deb and Al continue to enjoy the blanket she made all those years ago for Al's dad.

Missed a day

Caught a cold
Fell asleep
Baileys Big Bang Blanket.

Caught a cold
Missed a day
Try to post twice today.

Happy places

Sometime last year, around this time I think, I read the book The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner. I had been in my new job for just a little while and one of my officemates had read it for her reading club. I've been thinking about this book a little bit lately - and other, somewhat similar, studies.

In The Geography of Bliss, Weiner (who is a self-proclaimed grump) chronicles a year (at least I think it's a year) traveling the globe in search of the world's happiest places.

I wanna re-read this book. Anyone else? And then we can discuss it!

-- Olive Koffay

Another WOTD

Word of the day is


Pangram, n.   a sentence, verse, etc, that includes all the letters of the alphabet.


The most famous pangram that I know is this one:   The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.


I first encountered this sentence in my "Personal typing" class in 10th grade, a class that was intended to give college-bound students the necessary proficiency to type term papers. Given how desktop computers have fundamentally altered the way we write documents, this class was probably among the most useful classes that I took in high school. Anyway, our typing teacher, whose name I do not recall, used the "Quick brown fox" sentence to demonstrate his typing prowess- he could type (at least that sentence) at truly impressive speeds.    I have always been a pretty speedy typist, although my accuracy is abysmal.  I figure that I can type about 60 words per minute, with approximately 2-3 of them actually correct.  This was a problem when I had to type directly onto paper, requiring me to buy reams of erasable typing paper for use with my first manual typewriter.  Later, in graduate school, we bought a used Smith-Corona with a built in correction ribbon which saved enormous amounts of both paper and time.  Of course, now with word processors, even I can turn out a pretty professional looking document not marred by excessive erasures or blotched with gobs of White-out.


But I digress.


After seeing this WOTD, I was intrigued by the idea of pangrams, so I tried my hand at writing a couple.  Just to make it interesting, I crafted them as haiku.


Why defend these poems?
Quirky, crazy brain teasers
Just vexing couplets.


here's another (that I already shared on this blog)


Quiet hazy dawn
exploring cornfields on bikes
Such joyful movement.


I love to play with words.  Here's another pangram with a funny new word:
pecksniffian: hypocritically and fervently affecting kindness or high moral principles.


Pecksniffian minx
quintessential hypocrite
vile showbiz judge.

Everything she always wanted

Five years old today

Pretty pink princess cake, piles of presents, surrounded by loving parents, grandparents and aunts and uncles ... every gift eliciting an "Oh! I always wanted a _______!"

Make it 32 (or is it 63?)

1.  Having my joyfinding friend identify a fun theme for the night.
2.  Hot cocoa after a chilly walk with ZigZag.
3.  Facebook chatting with my sweet baby girl.
4.  A fleecy blanket to keep me warm while I type. 
5.  Holding my co-workers' warm snuggly babies (two co-workers, each with a baby).
6.  Planning the annual Christmas tree cutting and trimming party with my kids.
7.  Going to an event out of obligation and having a wonderful time.
8.  Finding my lost leather gloves.
9.  Chagall's stained glass windows as my computer wallpaper.
10.  Steel cut oats with cinnamon and walnuts for my breakfast tomorrow.
11.  Calvin and Hobbes.
12.  Cobalt blue glass
13.  Fourth Friday which falls on the Third Friday this month.
14.  This line from a William Carlos Williams poem 
 "It is difficult/to get the news from poems/yet men die miserably every day/for lack/of what is found there."
15. My puppy lying on my feet warming them nicely.
16. Schuman's Traumerei played by Horowitz in Moscow.
17. Reading travel brochures and imagining future trips.
18. Al's best gingersnaps ever. (Time for a batch? Hint. Hint. Are you reading this Al?)
19. The red teapot that the kids gave me for my birthday last year.
20. Looseleaf rooibos tea, brewed in #19.
21. Music played on our piano.
22. Magnetic poetry.
23. Bicycle season.
24. Good socks.
25. Finding a sentence in a book that is so elegant that it takes my breath away.
26. Stealing an extra 15 minutes of snooze-time while Al is in the shower.
27. Watching old movie musicals while sewing.
28. Snipping fresh herbs from the garden.
29. Pad Thai.
30. Our kitties napping in sunbeams.
31. The first snow of the season.
32. 32 posts this month- and it's only Nov. 16!

31 little things.

1. Thinking of something to write about.
2. Honey Greek yogurt with chocolate chips. Yum.
3. Reading ByeByePie - always makes me laugh.
4. Savasana at the end of yoga class.
5. Lunch with the Writers Block.
6. Oreos in the cookie jar at work.
7. Really good coffee.
8. Gummy bears.
9. When I discover a new post here on Finding Joy.
10. Claudette's habit of meeting me at the door.
11. Being able to breathe through both nostrils. At once.
12. Flannel monkey pants.
13. Handmade lavender soap.
14. No bills in the mail.
15. Trail mix in the cookie jar at work.
16. Twinkly white Christmas lights.
17. Warm towels right out of the dryer.
18. Finding money in a coat pocket.
19. Tuesday dinner.
20. Listening to my daughter's voice on the answering machine greeting.
21. Even better - spending time with my daughter.
22. Fuzzy slippers.
23. Handstands.
24. Sliced avocado with soy sauce.
25. Getting a postcard in the mail.
26. Walking on warm sand, barefoot.
27. Monty Python movies.
28. Naps on Sunday.
29. The smell of Play-Doh.
30. Baby feet.
31. 31 posts this month - and it's only Nov. 16!

and Joy for Dinner

It has been a cranky week.  Fatigue is running high among students, faculty and administrators.  Stress abounds and we're all getting a little snappish.

No time for a proper dinner tonight, so I met Al for dinner at the main campus dining hall before an evening event.  When we were done with our meal, he took advantage of the 'one cookie for the road' policy and offered me a bite.  It was  a homemade oatmeal raisin cookie.

Soft and delicious.

And still warm!

Joy for lunch

Guaranteed smile-maker

This is what I saw this morning when I opened the door of the fridge at work to put my lunch inside. Not only did it make me smile, but it warmed the hearts of all of the women in the office who saw it. I suspect some of the guys, too.

Zeste de citron

Zeste de citron - extra fine

This is surely one of the scents of heaven ... don't you think?

Freshly grated ginger, too. And lavender.

I'm sure Chicken and Rosemary Stew is on the list, with all its broth-y, wine-y, vegetable-y, herb-y goodness.

Yes, it is almost 10 p.m. and I'm making a big pot of stew. It's been cooking away in the oven for almost 2 hours. I had planned to make this much earlier of course but my sister and brother-in-law invited me to join them for a burger at the Knights of Columbus Hall - a frequent Monday night thing. So I figured I'd make the stew tonight and then I'd be set for several meals this week. When it comes out of the oven, I'll stir in the zest and chopped parsley.

Mmmm ...

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Oregano

are the four herbs that survived the frost last week and made it into the house.  Despite being planted in a flower pot,  my rosemary plant reached shrub status this summer.   Now that it is inside, ZigZag rubs up against it frequently, giving her a decidedly herbal aroma!

FWFS

Freshly washed flannel sheets. Ahhhhhh.

Discovery

On the third shelf, there
Found: ramen, chicken flavored
Noodly, salty joy

--A. Choo

Happy Atoms

Just a question for today:

What is necessary for a collection of atoms (me, for instance) to feel joy? Rocks and chairs are collections of atoms, and I don't think they experience anything.  It does not seem to be enough to simply be alive; while dogs seem to experience joy,  I assume clams don't.  I might be wrong there-- they might be as happy as clams.

I went to a Paul McCartney concert last summer at Comerica park and there were 40,000 people there all experiencing joy from Sir Paul's music and charisma.  That's a lot of happy atoms.

Baby salad

All week, I've been feeling as if I'm fighting a germ invasion. I did spend a couple of days with small germ bags last weekend. Today I felt progressively worse as the day went on.

But I had volunteered to provide the salad today as part of the week of meals we've been sending for one of our artists who just had a baby. Of course, I would not make an ordinary salad the night before like a normal person might. Oh no. That would not do.

Another one of our artists had a baby last month (something in the water I guess) and when it was my salad day for her I decided to do an antipasto sort of thing since the main dish was to be lasagna. I filled up a bag with baby-sized peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes, pepperoncinis, provolone cheese and thinly sliced salami plus a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette and bagged Italian salad mix.

Today I had no idea what I was gonna do to go with the chicken pot pie someone else was providing as the main dish. But I figured inspiration would strike as I wandered the aisles at the grocery store.

Fresh produce brings me joy. And feeding others brings me joy. For nearly 45 minutes, I meandered through the produce section, collecting baby cucumbers again (who can resist their crunchy cuteness?), blackberries - on special today 2 for $1 - sugar snap peas, Babybel cheeses and baby Romaine lettuce. I snagged a bag of salad "accents" (toasted almonds and other crunchy bits with some sort of Asian seasoning). I scanned the refrigerated dressings and the selection several aisles over. None of those bottled dressings seemed quite right so I picked up my favorite rice vinegar and then wheeled to the baking aisle (why no olive oil near the vinegars? makes no sense to me) for a small bottle of olive oil with perky packaging (on special!). It all went in the bag with suggestions for assembly.

I hope the new parents enjoy the veggies. And with some good cold medicine and lots of fluids and rest this weekend, I'm looking forward to a full recovery so I can enjoy squeezing a baby soon. Maybe next week!

-- A. Choo

Unitary Alignment

Coming soon....

In just a matter of hours it will be

1:11  on 11/11/11

and 10 hours later

11:11 on 11/11/11

And in the United States (at least if you are not in the military) it repeats:


1:11 on 11/11/11

and again

11:11 on 11/11/11

All together that is 38 ones in alignment in just one day!

 1:1111/11/1111:1111/11/111:1111/11/1111:1111/11/11

This must be some kind of good luck, don't you think?  Certainly worthy of a toast!

Cheers and here's to cosmic unitary alignment!

Goodnight rooms

Being lulled to sleep with the quiet whoosh whoosh of the dishwasher is one of my favorite things. Right after I go through the house and turn off lights and check doors ... and survey the undone projects ... I lie in bed, imagining myself being tossed by the sudsy waves, and say goodnight to all the rooms and the memories they evoke. With my eyes closed, there are no dust bunnies lurking in the corners. No petrified bits of cat barf. No fur-covered sofas. No piles of laundry.

Goodnight, pretty maple floors.

Goodnight, partially cleaned guest room with the curtain rod that still needs to be hung.

Goodnight, library filled with books.

Goodnight, flower-festooned walls upstairs.

Goodnight, slate tile over the landing floor my nephews built.

Goodnight, funky turquoise sink in my bedroom, surrounded by seashells and photos of special people.

Goodnight, drafty windows with the nifty latches.

Goodnight, rooms.

Joy advisory

Wind advisory tonight.  Sustained 30 mph winds with gusts up to 50 mph.  Drivers may experience difficulty controlling high profile vehicles.  Puppy walkers may have trouble controlling exuberant canines on leashes.

ZigZag found joy in chasing the blowing dried leaves along our walk tonight.  ZigZag found joy in meeting Sandy, the eight year old golden retriever whose human was the only other human soul out on such a blustery night.  ZigZag found joy as she bounded into the air, nearly taking flight against the wind.

I found joy watching ZigZag frolic, smelling the woodsy aroma of a fire in a neighbor's fireplace and in coming back to a dry, warm, and safe home.   I found joy while sipping hot cinnamon tea under a fuzzy fleecy blanket.

Extended forecast:  wind, rain and possible snow for the next few days with high probability of canine elation.

Note:  I read this again the next day and realized a better title would have been Pup-elation growth!

Field trip

I'm not too keen about sitting behind a desk all day so it's always a little bit exciting when I get to go on a field trip. I've felt a bit like a fish out of water since starting a new job last October - learning new things all the time but never feeling like I have any sort of expertise about anything. Today I spent 8 hours on a video shoot with clients and friends I hadn't seen in year. We constructed and deconstructed a wall, and talked about insulation and air barriers and building science and I discovered I still knew stuff and it was like slipping on a cozy, comfortable sweater and the combination of field trip, friends and being in familiar territory was all kind of wonderful.

-- Olive Koffay

A joyful "opa!"

On Tuesday nights, I have dinner with some dear friends. It's a weekly tradition I always look forward to. Tonight we decided on Greek food at a little place near my house called Zorba's. I love that we always begin with flaming Kasseri cheese. I also love that nobody else likes beets on their Greek salads so I get 'em all. Tonight it's cold and drizzly, so when our server flamed the cheese, we rubbed our hands near the flames for warmth. And after the cheese and salad and a bowl of avgolemono soup, I was too full for my Grecian chicken. That means leftovers tomorrow!

Some other dear friends (I am blessed with so many!) taught me how to make this impressive appetizer last year. It really is fun to do. Since I was too busy warming my hands to take a picture tonight at dinner, I just spent an hour and a half trolling the Web looking for a good video to post. I found lots of recipes, but very few good videos. (Lots of funny ones, though.) I learned that there was a terrible Bananas Foster incident this past spring and that many restaurants are rethinking their flaming menu items as a result so I wonder if a lot of how-to-flame-your-food videos have been taken down. I did find this really nice recipe on the GreekFood TV YouTube channel - but sadly, it doesn't include the flaming step.

I found a variety of ways to prepare Saganaki:

• Many recipes call for dipping a firm, rubbery, "squeaky" cheese (Kasseri, Kefalotyri, Feta, Haloumi, etc.) in warm water before dredging in flour
• Some specify milk or beaten egg or milk and beaten egg
• Emeril marinates his cheese in two cups of brandy (BAM!)
• Olive oil, butter or a mix ...
• I found one recipe where a thick block of pink Himalayan sea salt was heated over a flame and used as the cooking surface -- now that was extremely cool
• Some add seasonings to the flour - salt and pepper, red pepper flakes, dried herbs
• Or to the cheese while it's marinating
• Or to the top of the cheese just before it is flamed - or just after
• One chef tops his Saganaki with a selection of pestos just before flaming
• Metaxa, Ouzo or any old brandy for flaming (in a warmed ladle, in the pan or in a flame-proof baking dish)

So many options!

How did I not know about this whole Himalayan salt block cookware thing? 

Opa!

--Olive Koffay

Looking for joy

Looking for joy in my photofiles, I found this dude who seems to be on his own quest of some sort.   Do you think he found what he was looking for?

-ICR

Signs of joy

My church is known around these parts as "the church with the signs." There is one man, a retired engineer, who has been in charge of changing the thought-provoking message for ... decades. I guess some of the messages get recycled, but generally he meticulously creates a new one every few weeks or so.

Some years ago, I was chairing some committee or other, and I asked this man if he could show me how he updated the signs so we could potentially train one of our young people to take on the job someday. He was most eager to have an apprentice. As I recall, he approached the task with mathematical precision - writing out the message on a smaller piece of paper and taking carefully measurements to determine the optimum length of each line and height of the letters so it would fit the larger sign perfectly, all in his neat and fuss-free printing style. And finding the messages themselves? This was something he and his first wife, now long deceased, used to do together, as an act of prayer and a labor of love for our community. After her passing, he continued. An avid reader, I'm sure he has always found the little nuggets of spiritual wisdom in printed materials as he has told me he is just "too old" to mess with computers. An engineer. Shunning technology.

The apprentice idea never really took hold. I know a few people here and there have done the signs but I can always tell when this man is back on the job, patiently and lovingly carrying on a ministry to the thousands of drivers who pass the signs each day.

He is now 81 and still almost as active as ever. I think he stopped running a few years ago but still plays on our church softball team and on a local vintage baseball team, in addition to having a busy social life with his second wife. Two photos of him, both taken about six or seven years ago, are imprinted on my brain. The first was of him straddling the top of a wall and hauling trusses for the roof of a Habitat house. (I helped with lower-level tasks like insulation and painting.) The second was on the front page of our local newspaper, showing him shoveling snow for his elderly neighbors. Ahem.

The message on the sign today: A heart full of gratitude has no room for despair. Oh, how I need to remember that on my dreary, scavenger-hunt-for-joy days. I have so many reasons to be grateful. So many reasons to seek joy. So many reasons to pray.

--Olive Koffay

Enough is enough

2 photo projects:

I need to select
12 images for a desk calendar to give as a Christmas gift
3 photos to frame for submission to a faculty/staff art show

I have several thousand images- probably 2000 from 2011 alone.

This shouldn't be hard.

But it is.

Let's see....

1. Scenic shots?  Pretty.  Yes, but too ordinary?  Everyone does those.
2. Portraits of glass?  More interesting to me, but does anyone else want to look at those?  Especially for a whole month if I use them for the desk calendar.
3. Flowers?   Oh my, have I got a lot of flower shots!   Does everyone else too?
4. Peace cranes?  Well these are cool, but again, is it just me who thinks so?
5. Architectural shots of buildings and windows?  Are these self-conscious, self-indulgent attempts to be an artiste? 
6. Crazy angles on ordinary things?  see # 5 above

A mixture of all of these?  What no theme?

Why do my photos seem so cool until I imagine someone else looking at them? Why do blog posts seem interesting until I imagine someone else reading them?
Are real artists and writers arrogant enough to  believe that their audience will be interested in what they produce or do they not care so much about audience?  Or are they bags of insecurity too?

Ok. Enough already.  Time to get back to those images.

-ICR

Window on Joy

Sometimes finding joy is like a scavenger hunt--requiring creativity, attention, time, focus. Other times it is just outside my window.

-Sheila Collie

Remarkable, indeed.

Book recommendation:  Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier.  This work of historical fiction addresses a number of themes: the role and expectations of women in the early 19th century, science, women in science, science and religion, and a fascinating (partially true) record of how two unlikely but remarkable creatures found several other unlikely but even more remarkable creatures.

-ICR

Run-on sentence

I was enjoying the beautiful weather and tromping around "the back field" (an enormous, still-undeveloped area out behind my niece's subdivision) this afternoon with Sammy and Ashton so much that I didn't even mind it when mid-sentence Sammy stopped and wiped his runny nose on my sleeve.

--Olive Koffay

Sleepover

I'm having a sleepover at my niece's house with my sister so we can watch the boys. If anyone is a quart low on energy or needs some extra happy, we've got a surplus here.

--Olive Koffay

A cold hard drink an a frosty morn

On this morning's perambulation with the doggie, the Zigmeister would stay snout to the ground for 30 to 40 feet drinking in the frost on the grass of this cold and frosty morn, eventually coming up with ice crystals on her nose

WOTD

Word of the day:  Quean

The lean mean quean
told the keen clean queen
"Never be seen
eating  beans in jeans
in Aberdeen.
It's just obscene
if you are more than sixteen!"
It's a very bad scene!


-ICR

Really old art

In Dei manibus mea est vita

I went to the Film Fest tonight and saw Cave of Forgotten Dreams - a documentary about caves in Chauvet, France with 30,000-year-old paintings in pristine condition. My neighbor and her husband sponsored the film and gave me two free tickets. I'd planned to go anyway with my friend Kay but the freebies were a nice bonus. The film was shown in the "Leopard Lounge" or something like that. We sat in uncomfortable ladder-backed gilded chairs for niiiiiiiiiiiinety five millllllion minutes.

Maybe I'm exaggerating.

It's astounding to think that more than 30,000 years ago, people painted detailed depictions of horses and rhinoceroses and bears on cave walls. They didn't live in these caves - they went there purely for artistic and ceremonial purposes. They went deep into the cave interior and painted by the light of torches.

So even though the film was rather long and repetitive and not especially well done (in my unprofessional opinion), it was fascinating and I enjoyed giggling over the cheesy bits with my friend. I think our favorite part was watching and listening to the pony-tailed French archeologist who used to be a circus performer.

And then we got to go put our handprint-pictographs on a giant painting that will be installed somewhere so in 30,000 years pale, hairless archeologists in shiny silver bodysuits can analyze the spiritual implications of our seemingly random array of handprints.

--Olive Koffay

It was 3 a.m. This is where my brain was.

I pray because I am so small.

I am one person in 7 billion on a planet that revolves around one of the 300 billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy which is one galaxy in about 170 billion galaxies in the universe.

I pray because I am so small.

I contain about 63 kg of the estimated 3.4 x 10^54 kg in the universe.  As a percentage, that represents 0.0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000018% of the mass of the universe.

I pray because I am so small.

My mass is so inconsequential, my existence so unlikely that if I were a statistician I would say with great certainty that I don't exist.  But I do.  I breathe.  I love. I laugh.  I work.  I play.  I find joy.

I pray because I am so small.
And so very grateful.
-ICR

Joie de vivre

From the lunchtime plenary speech at my conference in Montreal.

"The future is a foreign country.  Passports are mandatory and the passport is an education grounded in the liberal  arts and sciences."

I like the metaphor.

I also came away from the plenary wishing I could be bilingual.  Is it too late?

I also came away from lunch wondering how I could replicate the layered chocolate mousse cake we were served.  It had a wonderful sweet crispy bottom crust with two layers of lovely chocolate mousse with a vanilla custard cream sandwiched in between.  I guess the conference organizers were celebrating international sandwich day too.

-ICR

Pentacle of ponderings

Fuzzy's folded chicken sandwich, grilled, with side of

ranch dressing

1. Nov. 3 is International Sandwich Day.

2. To celebrate, I enjoyed a folded chicken sandwich at my favorite local eatery with a delightful friend and her three delightful children.

3. I think starting with hot chocolate, followed by pizza, and ending with Triple Chocolate Overload ice cream also counts as an appropriate observation of International Sandwich Day. (Someone at our table may have done this.)

4. It is really fun to watch children eat ice cream.  They are fearless - especially when they bite the pointy ends off their ice cream cones.  

5. You can never have enough napkins.


-- Mo Choklit

going to the top

Crowded elevator.  Buttons pushed.  Three get off at the fourth floor.  Two get off at the seventh floor.  One on the eighth. One on the seventeenth.  Alone, I ride to the twenty first and highest floor of the hotel.  Lonely in the elevator by myself.

I guess when you go farther than others, it gets lonely at the end.

Bai bai fall-ku

scrunchy crunchy leaves
spindly twindly limbs - skyward
bai bai, dear fall; sigh

Words, words, words!

I hope this can count as today's observation, because it is SO cool. A self portrait made out of words. That's almost like writing, right?

Thanks to the American Heritage Dictionary, you can go make your own portrait now!

And I thought I was fresh out of words today. Phew.

What did you expect?

Today, on my way to a meeting, I stopped by the campus Starbucks for a little caffeine. As I approached, I saw a pair of students who had just left the coffee shop.  Each was carrying a drink.  One of them had a frozen cappuccino-type beverage.  As I walked by, she was taking a sip.  She grimaced and said in apparent disbelief and disgust, "This drink has coffee in it!"

Really?  You're kidding! Who'd've thunk it?

How often we all do that-- discover something after the fact that should have been glaringly obvious before.

What did you expect???

-ICR

mysterious benefactors

This morning, there was a bowl of Halloween chocolates on the secretarial station at work.  I thought Darlene brought them.  Darlene thought Andrew brought them.  Andrew thought Jessica brought them.  Jessica did not bring them.  Andrew did not bring them.  Darlene did not bring them.  I did not bring them. We all enjoyed them.

Who is our mysterious benefactor?  I can not help but think it would be very easy to poison our office staff....

-ICR

Finding Joy

Me thinks tonight there will be lots of people finding joy...

The right way

I never knew there were no punctuation marks in alphabet soup!

My observation is actually from yesterday but seemed more appropriate to post today. I think this is a great example of the right way to do a Halloween costume. Unfortunately, I had issues posting it with the correct orientation so poor Robin is a little squished. Oops.

-- Hollow Eeny

Enroute to finding joy

Here's my plan.  Each day, I will post a daily observation, question, thought, or some other consequence of a random neuron fire in my brain. Each week, I will expand one of them into a (more) fully developed post.

Today's RNF (random neuron fire) occurred to me during an adult discussion group at church.  We were discussing the contradictions presented to us in the Bible in the context of Brian McLaren's book "A New Kind of Christianity" and how they can be seen as developments in human understanding of God and the divine.   One thing that has always bothered me about the Bible is that nothing has been added since the fifth (sixth?) century.  If one is to believe that the Bible is the Word of God, one wonders why He has been silent for 1500 years.    I can begin to understand the complexities of selecting newer texts, but it seems that even individual denominations do not have well established canons of modern teachings (except I suppose for the Book of Mormon).  So, my question is this:  What would we choose, if we were to identify modern day prophets and sacred and divine texts for today?

-posted by I.C. Rhodes

A dish, a vase and a little joy

Here are some lessons in hospitality that my Mom taught me:

Rule number 1

When there are guests in the house, their needs and desires come first.

Rule number 2

Sweet treats go with hot drinks, salty treats go with cold.

Rule number 3

When planning a party, choose your guests carefully and do so BEFORE you start inviting people.

When I was in third grade, I really wanted to be friends with two particular little girls, Susan and Terry.  I thought they were so perfect;  they were pretty, smart, and somehow they never got dirty on the playground, their tights didn’t sag and their knee socks didn’t droop around their ankles.  They were the leaders of  the third grade A-crowd, and I longed to be a member.  But sadly, as little girls are wont to do, they excluded me from that inner circle and teased me mercilessly about my saggy tights and droopy socks.   Try as I might, I could not break into that pre-pubescent aristocracy.  But, as my eighth birthday approached,  I had a great idea!  If I invited them to my party, then they would be sure to like me.  And if Susan and Terry liked me, so would everyone else.  Without asking my mother, I invited the two of them to my birthday party and to my delight, they accepted! Caught up in my impending social ascent and a spirit of overwhelming good will, I invited ALL of the girls in my third grade class!  I was delirious with joy, knowing that I would be  admired by all and that everyone would want to be my friend. 

There was just one teeny weeny little snag.

When the time came to actually plan my party, my mother said that I could invite 8 girls.  She had a method- the number of children present at a party should equal the age of the birthday child plus one.  So, for my eighth birthday, I could invite eight girls, and I would make the ninth person.   I imagine that this rule came from one of her women’s magazines, probably an article in Family Circle titled something like “Keeping your cool:  Bounds on Birthday Bashes.”  Whatever.  Where ever it came from, that was her rule and she was sticking to it.

The problem of course, was that my actual friends were mainly my neighbors- Barbara, Joyce, Jenny, April, and the twins Cindy and Cathy.  With the six of them I could only invite two more girls.  This would have been fine, if I’d stuck to Terry and Susan, but I had invited ALL the girls in Mrs. Dunn’s third grade at Charles Wright Elementary School.  I don’t remember how many kids were in that class, but I must have invited about a dozen little girls in addition to my six actual friends from my neighborhood. 

When my mother started writing the invitations, she sent them to the neighbors, of course, and then asked who else I wanted to invite.  I meekly asked if all the kids from school could come, after all, they had all gone to Martha’s party the year before, but my mother said simply, “No.  Eight girls.”  I couldn’t find the words to tell her what I had done, and I couldn’t find the words to tell the girls at school that they couldn’t come to my party.

I hoped that they’d forget that I ever mentioned it.  I said nothing, trying to let that birthday fly under the radar, but of course on the Friday before the big day, Mrs. Dunn, smiling with generosity, asked all the boys and girls to sing “Happy Birthday” to me.  In front of the whole class, she asked if I was having a party, to which I meekly replied, “Yes.”  So much for flying under the radar.  After school, those girls were upon me like a pack of hungry wolves, demanding to know where the invitations were, and what time the party was going to be.  I pretended I didn’t know the details and ran home in utter mortification.

Third grade me- ready for my tap
dancing recital.

Up Knott Street, across Wolcott Hill Road, down Morrison Avenue and cutting through April’s yard to my house on  Ireland Road, I fantasized and hoped that she would take pity and call the mothers of all my classmates and invite them to my party the next afternoon. 

But no.  That was not to be. The party was planned and the plans would not, could not double overnight. 

Although she was not pleased, my Mom did bail me out, at least as much as she could without compromising her conviction that nine was the perfect number for my eighth birthday party.  She called all of the mothers and explained that my verbal invitations were well intentioned but unauthorized but that maybe soon we would arrange for their daughters to play at our house after school.  Apparently Terry’s mother informed mine that “That is just the sort of thing my Terry would do too!”  I took some modicum of comfort from that statement, although I doubted then and doubt now that it was actually true.

Funny thing is, that is all I remember about my eighth birthday.  I have no memory whatsoever of the actual party.  It was my second to last childhood birthday party.  On my ninth birthday, my parents took nine of my friends and me ice skating at Colt Park in Hartford and then returned home for cake and hot chocolate.    We moved to a new town a few months later and after that I celebrated birthdays with just my family.

But here’s the thing about that eighth birthday party.  My mother was right.  Not necessarily about the numbers, but about who should and who shouldn’t have attended my party.  The children that came- Cindy, Cathy, Barbara, Joyce, Jenny, and April were the children that should have come.   I am sure that even if Terry and Susan had come to my party any boost in popularity would have been short lived.  I just wasn’t destined to be part of the A-crowd of Mrs. Dunn’s third grade class. Cindy, Cathy, Barbara, Joyce, Jenny and April had saggy tights and droopy socks and got dirty just like I did and we all somehow survived and even thrived. 

My Mom's crazy rule for party size may have been derived to keep mothers sane in the face of a bunch of sugared-up hyper children, but as I think about it, it also served  to limit the party to the children who should be there- those that were nurtured by the closeness of friendship and nourished by celebrating each other’s joy together.             

Mom in July 2008.

My mother died nearly three years ago- in fact it will be three years ago on Thursday of this week - and I still think of her all the time.  When I host celebrations,  I don’t abide by any arbitrary rules on the number of invitees,  but whatever the number appears to be, there is always one more, at least in spirit. In one way or another my Mom  is always part of any celebration or gathering at my house-- be it a large party, tea with friends, a family holiday dinner.   Maybe I am silly, but when people that I care about are gathered in my home, I honor her and her presence by using something that belonged to her.   A dish, a vase, a recipe, something.   In that way, she is with us. Because she nurtured and nourished and was nurtured and nourished by our lives together.   Because having her there brings me a little joy.

- posted by I.C. Rhodes

A joyous Haiku for you and you

Quiet hazy dawn
exploring cornfields on bikes
Such joyous movement.

- posted by I.C. Rhodes

Found it - joy!

I started this blog a few years ago as part of a church project. Somehow, my church friends couldn't understand that this was just a website. It was too daunting to visit and much, much to daunting to post.

But I loved the name "Finding Joy" and didn't want to let it go.

So now this will be a place for some writer friends and I to practice and play with words, finding and sharing a bit of joy as we go.