Beach Cruiser

Bought myself a beach cruiser bicycle the other day, which might perhaps be seen as an odd choice for land-locked Pocatello, Idaho. But I disliked all my road bikes with their 600 finely-tuned gears and their rock-hard rides. The heavy steel frame of the beach cruiser, the fat tires and the coaster brake – as well as the seat just made for a middle-aged rump – lured me with a promise of bicycle comfort that I could no longer resist.

Plus the doctor says I HAVE to get daily exercise, no matter what -- so I had a medical excuse.

My first ride of 20 minutes on mostly flat terrain left me winded and with wobbly legs. Clearly this will require some effort on my part.

But tooling along, when I wasn’t noticing the burn in my thigh muscles, I felt years younger. This is the kind of bike I grew up riding – indeed the kind of bike I learned to ride on when I was about 8 years old and my parents had managed to snag a bike for no money (the only way we had bikes when we were little). And the weather in Pocatello in these waning days of summer 2008 has been absolutely peerless: chilly mornings, clear and warm days, a mild breeze. Can’t beat it for outdoor activities.

And surprisingly (to me), biking around town gives a much better perspective of this place I call home now. You really learn the streets and can appreciate the beauty and charm of the yards and houses when you’re cruising at 4 m.p.h. through a neighborhood. We’ve had a fairly green summer, and everyone’s flowers and yards are still quite lush. There are proud, glorious sunflowers and cheerful geraniums everywhere. It puts me in mind of the last days of summer at the Shore, when most of the East Coast humidity is gone, the breeze is stirring the sand, the wild roses tumble over the fences, and the days are crystal clear.

You get the picture.

The beach cruiser bike is clearly a pleasure bike – a mixed blessing to my self-esteem because I think it inspires pity in motorists who watch the middle-aged lady pedaling her big bicycle along the side of the road. They stop their cars at intersections in order to let me cross – as if I were a pedestrian in a crosswalk and not a moving vehicle subject to the same rules of the road as they. Weird, but at least I get safely across the road (unlike when I’m on my motor scooter and motorists seem intent on mowing me down if at all possible).

I’ve just returned from a ride, winded and with muscles burning, but the breeze and the sun were so exhilarating that I just can’t mind the discomfort. The last days of summer are going fast, but I intend to slowly soak up as much of them as I can on my beach cruiser.

What’s your bicycle story?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation.....

It’s been five days since we returned home, and already the memories are starting to fade a little as everyday life ramps back up to normal. But the ‘battery recharged’ feeling really lives on. What a great time we had this year, the three of us and the dog!

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Memories:

Still mornings, with a hot sun, cool mountain air, and a lake so clear you could see the fish on the bottom at 15 feet or deeper.

Waking up at whatever time we wanted to, no schedule all day long.

Floating around on the water, cozily ensconced in my river tube.

My two best guys out in the raft, our dog sometimes with them, exploring the lake.

Sitting in my chair on shore watching storm clouds roll up through the valley.

Seeing the Bald Eagle fly overhead, bringing home a fish.

Watching the Ospreys fly back and forth along the valley wall (often in pairs), hunting for their next meal.

Visiting with our good friends, Tom and Marilee.

Evening movie marathons in our camper, the three of us huddled around a little 7-inch screen.

No cell phone service and no internet access.

Driving 20 miles one day to get internet access so I could complete a proposal on deadline (bleah! but I had the consolation of knowing that my project director had to do the very same thing: drive 20 miles from her own lake vacation for the same unexpected deadline.)

Warm days and cool nights.

A summer thunderstorm that poured rain over the valley one afternoon.

The gentle sunshine and crystal clear air after the thunderstorm, as if the earth had been cleansed just for us.

Crawdad hunting, and then (yuck) crawdad cooking!

A renewed and welcome sense of the wonder (and fun) of raising a child to adulthood.

The “Black Dog Convention” that seemed to be taking place at the campground while we were there (no less than a half-dozen black lab or lab-type dogs were in the campground by Friday).

Prowling the lakeshore in search of beautiful wildflowers to photograph.

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Our photos are at http://picasaweb.google.com/cathering/SummerVacation2008 . Can't wait for next summer!!!

Open Season?

Warning: this is a rant. If you're not in the mood to hear me grousing about life, feel free to skip this entry.

The political climate of 2008 is even more overwrought, it seems to me, than ever before. Certainly the choice of President of the United States is important, but in the heat of battle, more and more people are losing their heads and saying things that should never be said. Pundits on network TV routinely attack the personal lives of candidates, making such vicious insinuations that one has to wonder why. (Think I'm kidding? Look up the remark Ann Coulter made last winter about John Edwards and the death of his son.)

A recent email going around now is castigating Michelle Obama for the senior thesis she wrote as an undergraduate at Princeton University. The email message purports to have the credibility of snopes.com behind it, yet when I went to snopes.com myself, I found the email to be quite a bit off base. See http://www.snopes.com/politics/obama/thesis.asp

Michelle Obama was 22 years old when she wrote her senior thesis in 1985. She was a college student, getting ready to graduate with her Bachelor's degree and worrying about getting into graduate school. That's 23 years ago. For most adults, the time period between college graduation and middle age constitutes a lifetime of experience and a world of change in perspective. Mrs. Obama is 45 years old now and a different person. Do we have any fact-based reason to not believe that her perspective now would be, if she is an average person like you and me, based on that of a seasoned adult and not an immature undergraduate?

Should anyone's potential as First Lady be predicated on a viewpoint expressed before she'd even graduated from college? I would hate to be judged on some of the boneheaded opinions I held when I was in my early 20's. I would hate to have someone accuse me of thinking the same way now as I did then, because it would be patently untrue. Some of my opinions at that time were due to an uninformed and immature view of the world, some could be chalked up to an attempt at trying to please someone else. Can you say, in all honesty, that none of the opinions you expressed in the past have changed? Are you exactly the same person you were in your early 20's? Studies show that the human brain is still developing during a person's early 20's -- right up to the age of 25 or so. What does that say about our thinking at that time in our lives?

I'm not defending Mrs. Obama (or Mr. Obama for that matter), nor am I expressing in this entry an intent to vote for one candidate or another. Rather I'm using this situation as an example of how crazy and damaging the political process has become. Candidates should be judged on the record they amass during their time as adults in the real world, not when they were college students barely out of high school.

And I think, more than ever, that our culture has lost sight of the fact that the candidates are human beings. A campaign does not constitute "open season," not on John McCain and his family and not on Barack Obama and his family, nor on any other public person. Spreading rumors and innuendo is wrong, no matter who it is and, quite frankly, no matter what they've done.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" is the Golden Rule. That should apply during a political campaign, too.

Summer Greetings

Greetings from Park City, Utah -- where I work every summer, running a conference. The blog posts might be a bit thin on the ground while I'm here since we work long hours, but you never know what might crop up in my brain and beg to get out....

I'm currently working on some nice pictures I've taken in the mountains -- when I get the chance, I'll upload them to our album.

In the meantime, wishing you all a happy summer! - Cath

Osmond-mania

A couple of months ago I was sitting in a hotel room in Seattle and happened across a PBS special: last year’s Osmond family reunion concert in Las Vegas. When first advertised, this concert was sold out in minutes, so the PBS host says. And, indeed, the very enthusiastic and middle-aged audience looks like it’s completely packed.

The trademark harmonies of the Osmonds are still there, but my, oh my! those guys are gettin' old! I’m watching Donny cavorting around the stage and I’m worried that he will trip, do a face-plant on the steps and finally ruin those perfect teeth.

I was never a big fan, per se, of the Osmonds and their music, but our ages are similar, so I’m using their work to make a point.

Thanks to the success of a young friend, I have a much closer view of the elaborate marketing that goes on around the up and coming singers. The package is heavily stylized, and I wonder whether those young musicians end up losing their sense of self before they even begin. In chords and lyrics and melodies the human soul finds a mysterious expression. Music is, in fact, a visceral experience. I think God designed it that way and meant it to be an honest expression of the soul as well as being something artistic.

There are many who say our generation is too old to be performing – “middle age” isn’t sexy, you know, and it’s sex that sells. But I say that the music should speak for itself, rather than relying on the show of nubile flesh, the model-thin body, the professionally airbrushed print advertising. Age should be irrelevant. It’s the music, the expression of the soul, that matters.

Sooooo….. Rock on, Osmonds! (But watch where you put your feet.)

Two more pics

Here are two more pics of the kitchen -- the backsplash is done and we are back in operation. We are also still moving stuff back in and trying to decide which items belong in which cabinet, so it's all quite a mess. These are the latest two pics -- I will take more once we've made progress in the clean-up aspect of things!

Home is......

I’ve spent the last couple of days in New Jersey – the State where I was born and raised and where I lived the first 44 years of my earthly existence. A long personal history ties me to this State. It is my home in a very profound sense.

Six years ago I moved out West, called by the love of a good man and a marriage of great contentment. I don’t regret that move one bit. I relish the grandeur of the country, the less frantic pace of life, and my adopted hometown. But sometimes I get a hankering for that deep feeling of familiarity that only comes from the place where you’ve spent not just a lot of time but where you’ve had significant life experiences, especially in your formative years. Home.

Very little out West is like the East. The air smells different, feels different. The water tastes different and has a different mineral content. The accents and cadences of the spoken word are different. The last names are different. The weather patterns are different. The colloquial expressions are different (NO one in Idaho says “youse” instead of "you," and NO one in NJ says "oh my heck!"). Even in these days of mass communication and easy movement around this vast country of ours, local culture remains strong, shaped by people living in close proximity to each other in a unique environment that everyone must cope with and react to. It’s not necessary to label the differences “worse” or “better” – they’re just different.

I’m definitely home when I’m out West – that’s where my husband and family are, so that’s home in the very real sense that it’s my center and it’s where I live. I can’t imagine living anywhere else, either, unless my husband went with me. But I’m also home, kind of, when I’m here – this is where my family of origin still live, where I learned to ride a bike and drive a car, got my first kiss, made straight A’s, grew to be an adult, raised my daughter, buried my Dad; powerful memories among many other memories that comfort and unsettle all at the same time.

And yet this is no longer a place where I could live. Here is mostly just a haven of memories now – a home in that it is the source of so much of who I have become. But it isn’t Home in the living sense of the word.

Still, New Jersey calls me from time and time, and sometimes I just can’t resist that feeling. So I go home to the memories and what is familiar. It soothes my soul in a way I can’t really describe. I’ll be here for a few days. I’ll see my family and breathe in the soft air, complain about the humidity and enjoy being in my brother’s company. And when I touch down at Salt Lake International Airport again next week, I’ll breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to being at home in Idaho – where I now live. Home.

What are your thoughts about home?

Counter tops DONE!

Woo hoo! They're done and they're wonderful!

Yes, we still have more work to do before the kitchen is actually functional, but this really is a major piece of progress for the kitchen re-do. Our updated Web Album can be viewed by clicking here. Looking at the pictures of the stretch along the window, you can see the new dishwasher and the new trash compactor. What you can't see is the new garbage disposal (since it's under the sink, silly).

Now it's on to the tile back splash (which Tim will do while I'm out of town next week), some trim around the window, some more electrical work, some under cabinet lighting.... etc., etc., etc.

At last!

The workman are upstairs in the kitchen as I write this -- at long last, the countertops will be finished! Still need the tile backsplash (Tim's job), the door handles, some electrical work and under cabinet lighting, and other finishing touches, but this is a GIANT leap forward. Pics coming soon!

Adoption

I have been musing the last couple of days about adoption.

Christian singer Steven Curtis Chapman lost his youngest daughter, age 5, three days ago in a tragic accident at the family home (if you Google or go to stevencurtischapman.com, you can find out the details). Maria Sue was adopted from China by the Chapman family when she was just a baby, much like my own daughter, Abbi, was adopted from Korea by my first husband and myself when she was three months old.

Adoption isn't a makeshift or substitute relationship for the 'real thing.' It is the real thing, as solid as any biological relationship and running just as deep. The choice to make a family with a child who has already suffered the loss of his/her biological family is not taken lightly. And the bond created in that choice is permanent, whatever the outcome of the child's own subsequent life choices. Believe me. I know. And so do all the other 'adoptive' parents out there. Adoption is the very relationship we enjoy with our Creator. He chose us to be His. The bond is permanent, no matter our subsequent choices.

My Abbi turns 24 tomorrow -- a birthday little Maria Sue Chapman will never see. The loss for the Chapman family is horrible to contemplate. Scripture says that our days are appointed by God. Maria Sue had 5 years and 10 days here -- a good life, I'm sure. She's home with Jesus now, of that I'm also sure.

The Chapmans had a mission when it came to adoption, establishing a special foundation that gives grants to parents in need of funds to cover the adoption fees -- so that even if money is tight, they, too, can bring home a child. Why? Because every child deserves a home -- a 'forever family' is how we put it. The exact same privilege that we enjoy spiritually with our God.

If you wish, you may contribute to Shaohannah's Hope and help others bring children home to their very own forever families, too.

Thanks for reading.

Homework

I am personally appalled at how much homework young children are given these days. Since when is it appropriate for a 6 year old to spend an additional hour on work after school is over for the day? Wouldn't that hour be better spent (developmentally speaking) in free play or family interaction? The human brain needs time to just 'be' -- our kids aren't getting that benefit any longer because homework starts at such an early grade level.

During my school years, we didn't have our first homework assignment until the 4th grade, and even that might be stretching it a bit. At least we were old enough at that point to be responsible on our own for the work that had to be done -- our parents didn't have to sit us down to do the homework with us, as most have to now. I don't think my mother checked a single homework assignment that I ever did. School was my responsibility, not hers.

Studies show that homework in the elementary years does not contribute to children's learning. It might help them regurgitate facts better in the short-term, but that is not an indicator of actual learning. What homework does do is significantly raise the stress level of today's parents and, consequently, the entire family, robbing families of time that could be better spent. That's a tragedy for the family and for child development.

Your thoughts?

Health Care

My recent poll on health care was somewhat inconclusive, friends. Okay, no one wanted government to be paying for all the health care. But 33% wanted tax credits, 22% wanted the current system of employer-provided insurance, and 44% want "something other than" the choices that I offered in the poll. I've no idea where our health care system will end up, and I don't really know what is the best solution -- but it seems to me it can't keep going on as it is. When senior citizens have to go without much-needed prescription drugs, when going to the hospital can bankrupt your finances, and when health care is categorized as an 'industry,' something is very, very wrong.

Maybe when the Baby Boomers are in full retirement things will change? What do you think?

Praise God Now!

Getting back to some serious thoughts here....

We join in a very ancient cry when we sing or say the word “Hallelujah.” Interestingly, it appears in Scripture in this form -- i.e. as the actual word “Hallelujah” -- only in the book of Revelation (chapter 19). The literal translation is: Praise JAH -- JAH being the Hebrew for He that Is. This is in contrast with the Psalms, where we find Praise Jehovah – which means Praise He who will be, is, and was. In Revelation, with the use of “Hallelu JAH” we have reached the time when there is no more need of thinking about God as He was or will be – we are then in the present with the living Lord. That gets a “Hallelujah!” out of me when I think about how wonderful that day will be!

So, does our use of the word “Hallelujah” in the present age mean that we are living in what is known as the “end times?” Are we getting ahead of ourselves by using the term? I confess I don’t know the answer to questions such as those, and I am not really trying to address that here (although you’re welcome to think about it).

Hallelujah is not the equivalent of the present day “Woohoo!” or “Ye-es!” that we all use when we’re excited about something. Hallelujah! is an ancient form of reverent worship and praise to our living God. What is interesting is that singing or saying “Hallelujah” means we are praising the God who is right now, with no need to think about the past or the future. Seems to me that’s how we are to be living anyway in these days. Scripture exhorts us not to worry about tomorrow (Matthew 6:34); it also tells us that God does not remember our past sins (Psalm 103:12). We get to live in the present with our magnificent and mighty God – what a relief! Hallelujah!

Thank you for your support!

My fellow Americans and Canine-Americans, I'd like to extend to you my sincerest gratitude for electing me to the office of President of the United States, and I assure you that no dog dish will go empty during my administration. This country is faced with a desperate health care crisis that I intend to solve by creating a universal health care system offering free rabies and distemper shots for all. It is my heartfelt belief that free distemper shots may serve to cure the general incivility (i.e. the "distemper") of our current culture, and to ensure that this legislation is successful, I will inflict the 'wounded puppy' look on members of the Congress if necessary.

Staying true to my core beliefs and the laws of the land, I pledge to serve all species during my administration while adhering to my universal theme: Playtime for Everyone. To that end, every family and pet in America will be issued one case of frisbees, chew toys and balls each year, and an Annual National Day of Play will be declared and established.

My fellow Americans (Canine and otherwise), this is a new day in our history, with the first Mixed Breed Canis Familiaris elected to the highest office in the land. I promise to walk sedately on my leash and lick only those faces that are close enough to be reached without jumping up with my muddy paws.

Thank you. I will not betray the great trust that has been given me in this election. And if anyone has a red super-hero cape that they don't need, would you please send it to me? Apparently I can't use taxpayer dollars to purchase one.

- President Hank, The Wonder Pup

Lost in America

That’s where our counter tops are – lost in America. We were given the bad news yesterday by the cabinet installers.

How can a honking great package of counter top material get lost in the system of the revered United Parcel Service????

Sooooo…. Kitchen re-do has come to a screeching halt for the time being.

I’m bummed.

PS – vote for Hank the Wonder Pup – he needs the work.

And now.... a floor!

See our updated Kitchen Re-do Photo album for more pics. We're getting there! Tim tiled the floor last night. The cabinets have doors and drawer fronts. The countertops are promised for next week!

More Progress, Slightly Less Dust

Today I'm being "serenaded" by the sounds of power drills at work. The frames of the new cabinets have been installed, as well as some of the cabinet doors, and you can really see the kitchen taking shape!

You can see the progress in these two pics -- the left pic is the old kitchen and the right pic is the same view of the new one as its being constructed.

Progress and Dust

The Great Kitchen Re-do continues and we are making progress! The walls are sheetrocked and ready for primer/paint, and the awful plastic barrier has been taken down. You can see how open the new space will be, with the wall between the old kitchen and the front room having been taken down (for good).

I should probably also take a picture of the demolition/construction dust that lays thickly over everything in the house now! I spent nearly all day yesterday trying to clean the second floor, but that dust is going to take some special elbow grease to get rid of once and for all. It's in every nook and cranny imaginable.

While the kitchen is being constructed, Tim is also working on one of the basement bedrooms, preparing for a new egress window and, eventually, new carpet and paint. His efforts yesterday somehow resulted in great clouds of dust billowing merrily out of the heat ducts -- we're still not sure how that happened! Needless to say, I was less than thrilled at the sight.

The cabinets and countertops are due to be installed early next week, and then we're on the home stretch. Stay tuned!

Winter into Spring

Spring is definitely trying, but winter keeps coming back and biting us. It reminds me of some unfinished business in my own life – some unforgiveness that I know needs to be resolved so that spring can arrive, but, like winter right now, keeps coming back to bite me.

Scripture is very clear that as we forgive others, so will our Father forgive us. Bearing that important truth in mind, it is still incredibly hard to get around the very human emotions engendered when someone deliberately sets out to hurt you. The shock, the hurt at being betrayed by someone you thought you could trust to deal reasonably with what is, admittedly, a sticky situation. Can’t we all just act like adults? Well, it seems that we can’t. And I need superhuman powers to get to the point of forgiveness – something I most decidedly lack right now.

Where is God when you’re trying but not getting anywhere? Is He just sitting up there laughing at vain effort? Not at all! Jesus tells us that our God knows every hair on our heads; He knows every emotion we go through.

Then why the continuation of this particular winter season of my soul? I pray for spring (forgiveness) to come. I know His mercies are sure. I just have to believe – and, really, I already do know -- that this cold and dead season will eventually give way to spring’s more pleasant climate and the renewal, birth, and growth that come with it.

April 2008

The Great Kitchen Re-do

We are in the midst of The Great Kitchen Re-do at our house in Pocatello. Seriously not fun, but the results will be well worth it in the end.