Getting Waxed

It snowed today. We received from the weather angels about 5 inches of that magic stuff that is, as one Pakistani student once exclaimed, "frictionless." Well, close enough anyway. So sensing an opportunity I asked a few of the youth in the congregation to come sledding with me on the hill behind the sanctuary in Nineveh. Of course, they were in.
The slope behind the sanctuary has two teirs of clear grass (er, snow), before it gives way to a sharper, forested slope. In order to get the maximum thrill out of the experience, we trudged up the slope, into the woods, found a path that did not intersect with any trees (of significant size) and started cruising down.
Oh, and there was a jump.
Well, it wasn't really supposed to be a jump at first. We intended it to be a curve--a luge sort of thing, you know--which diverted the sledder on a longer path to the bottom. However, it became rapidly clear that the velocity at which we descended out of the forest would carry us over the curving ramp, turning it into a jump.
There's nothing wrong with a good jump, so we changed our tactics.
Jordan was the first to discover the vaulting quality of our former embankment. He shot down the hillside, leaves torn up in a cloud behind him, and leapt from the edge of the snowbank into the air.
Awesome! I thought, and climbed the hill hoping to get the same effect.
No dice. I went down twice, then three times, but I couldn't get enough velocity to get any air. At most I crawled over the snow like a meatball rolling over a lump of spaghetti. Not very thrilling.
"I just can't do it. Is there anything special about your sled?"
"Yeah," said Jordan, "My dad waxed it."
He waxed his sled! "Can I borrow it?"
"Sure."
I climbed the hill, armed now with the triplet wonders of snow, gravity, and ski wax on my side. I got as high as I could and threw myself onto the track.
When I hit the slope and felt the slide of the sled under my belly, words leapt into my mind that pastors aren't supposed to think (let alone say). I had underestimated the effectiveness of the wax. I tore down the hill like a bat out of--well, a bat on a waxed sled--and hit the jump at a velocity I had never heretofore experienced in my memory. I also ascended higher than I like to be when my feet aren't under me.
Needless to say, I lost control of the sled and three of my limbs. With one hand still gripping the sled handle, I yardsaled into the snow on the other side of the jump.
"That was awesome!"
I got up, ignored the pain above my right kneecap, and did it again.
I gotta get me some wax.
~ emrys

The Re-creation of the Kitchen

Winter does this strange thing, we're forced to stay inside for days on on end and looking at the same walls all the time brings about this urge to change things. Here's the result of this winter's cabin fever. The story of the re-creation of our kitchen. When we bought our house this was one compromise we made. The kitchen was lacking - lacking counter space, lacking color, lacking personality, lacking function. Emrys and I both love to cook and take on kitchen projects (not to mention that the kitchen also serves as my candle factory!) Most who know us, are aware that this hasn't stopped us from hosting large dinners, waffle breakfasts for the youth, storing quarts and quarts of veggies and fruits from the garden, local farms and Frog Pond. But now, we can do all these things and more!

When we started there was a floor to ceiling cabinet next to the stove and that was the first to go - before we even started taking pictures! Now it serves as storage in the downstairs bathroom.

The counter top was the first part of this project. Emrys has found a friend who has a saw-mill and a ready supply of rough-cut lumber and ET wanted to take on the project of making a butcher-block styler counter top. With a friend's woodshop available to us with the necessary tools, a fun project and all for less than formica laminate- who was I to stand in the way! We cut and planed and clued and sanded and the result is a beautiful countertop that the photos just don't do justice. It's not a true butcher block in that we won't be chopping on it and we did seal it with polyurethane but the method was there.

The rest is pretty self explanatory - border taken down (I had been ready to see it go since I moved in), fresh coat of colored paint replaced the straight from the can white that was on the walls, two new cabinets and the counter top all resulted in doubling our counter space and an eat-in breakfast bar to boot! We have some finising work to do and to get some stools but that's right around the corner. Here's the pix! Enjoy! (click on pictures for captions)
~sjt

Just a bit of Snow!

So I've been e-mailing with our friends at Sonlight and they have had a crazy amount of snow this winter topped off by 24 inches of fresh snow at camp since Sunday morning! Take a look at their shoveling job and ask yourself if your driveway looks so bad after all!

Rome On Ice

I went with a friend this evening to see an ice hockey game: the Binghamton Senators (farm team for the Ottawa Senators) versus the Philadelphia Phantoms (farm team for the Philadelphia Flyers). In the first five minutes of the second period, something strange happened on the ice.

I heard a whistle blow, stopping play. Two players, one from each team, skated to a point on the ice where they were distant from all the other players. They faced each other, about eight feet apart, and threw their helmets and gloves on the ice behind them. The crowd roared and rose to its feet.

Now, I don't know about the gloves. I suppose if you want to play ice hockey without gloves, the officials might allow you to do so. Sure, it would be stupid, what with all the sticks and hard rubber and ice flying everywhere. But maybe they'd let you play without gloves. I know for certain, however, that they wouldn't let you play without helmets. Helmets are just a standard safety thing in sports today, for good reason. They're an absolute necessity. I know the officials won't let hockey players play without helmets. Thus: when the helmets come off, there's a clear violation of the rules going on. At this point, the officials' job--if they are like officials in any other sport--is to step in and set these guys back on the path to righteous hockey.

They didn't. Not only did they fail to grab the guys and instruct them to put their helmets back on and play the game they had come to play, but they circled around these two players who now had bare fists in the air, ready to box each other. No lie! It was like a schoolyard fight, but with the teachers keeping the kids away to see which fourth grader is going to beat the snot out of the other.

This isn't ice hockey. This is gladiatorial combat. You might as well give one a net and trident and the other a spear.

I think most sources probably state that the goal of ice hockey is to put the puck in the net. However, for this brief period of about 45 seconds, the sanctioned goal of the game was to see how much damage these two guys were going to do to each others' faces. Hm. Strange. My ticket read, "Veterans' Stadium," not "Colosseum."

Weird thing is, I think the whole crowd enjoyed this part of the game more than the goals and the power plays. What's even weirder, I think the refs were prepared for this incident. I think they have rules that govern the fights. In other words, I'm pretty sure--whether it's in the "official" (no pun intended) rule books or not--there are rules that allow for and govern hockey fights. This I believe.

It was clearly orchestrated and sanctioned. I'm not sure these two guys really had a beef with one another. I know what guys on the ice (or on the field) act like when they think they've been wronged during a game. They try to wreck the other guy when the ref's not looking. They shove sticks in places where wood isn't meant to go; they jab and scrape and foul. No, this wasn't competitive rage; I think this was a side-show.

I know all the cliches about fights in hockey. I just never saw it as clearly as I did this evening. Gladiatorial combat: Rome on ice. For a willing and bloodthirsty crowd. Where's the emperor holding out his thumb?

After witnessing all this, however, I'm still left with a quandary: why did these two, whose combat was sanctioned by the officials, still have to spend five minutes in the penalty box? It looked to me like they were playing by the rules; and the refs didn't stop them.
~ emrys

Walking for a Cure

As most of you know Our Great Adventure, unexpectedly started off with my cancer diagnosis in 2005. Since then, we've traveled through chemo, radiation, around the world and into 2 ½ years of remission.

My remission has been heavily marked with support for groups like the Leukemia, Lymphoma Society and the American Cancer Society. In thankfulness for the work that these groups do to find cures, and in response to all those who Walked before I ever got sick in order to find cures, I Walk. In 2007, I walked a marathon, by myself mostly. While a great accomplishment and something that I’m so glad that I did, 2008 is about motivating others to join in the Walk to find cures.

I am captaining a team with the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life. For those who don’t know, it is an all night event full of music and fun. On June 3, 2005 I started chemo and I also walked the Survivor Lap at the Durango Colorado Relay for Life. It was a fitting end to a rather scary day to know that there were other’s who had also Walked through that day in their life. Relay also holds a luminaria ceremony where luminaria decorated in honor or memory of those who have fought cancer are lit around the outline of the track and it’s amazing to see it and think that every bag that is lit represents someone’s loved one.

On May 9, 2008, a team of us will join over 30 other teams in Bainbridge, NY and join the Walk to find cures. I even got Emrys signed up to walk. He wasn’t up for the marathon. We invite you to support us as we Walk. Below are links to make a tax deductible donation to the American Cancer Society on behalf of either of us – or if you can’t decide you can just donate to our team. It all goes to the same place :)

Thanks in advance for your support!

Donate to Emrys
Donate to Sara
Donate to NPC Team

Sara & Emrys

The Fair Trade

We saw the screening DVD this afternoon: it's called "The Fair Trade," a documentary film about both one young woman's journey to find vitality after loss and also the beginning of a fair trade business. Wonderfully weaving together a personal story of death and rejuvenation with a bold mission to give value to struggling poor in Togo, Africa, The Fair Trade tugs at the delicate strings of the human soul and dares to take up the heavy moorings of human economy.

If you see The Fair Trade playing, trade your time for it and go see it.
If you see The Fair Trade for sale, trade your money for it and go buy it.
'Tis a bargain that will benefit your souls.

~emrys

Bored and on the Internet?

Then I have a favor to ask! I am in the process of re-doing my business website - take a look www.charityscrafts.com and let me know what works, what doesn't, what you like, don't like etc!
and Thanks!!

Down (or Up) the Hatch!

For the last year I've been getting into our ceiling crawl space (to check insulation, open the house fan, and wage bloody war on squirrels) by emptying the closet in our bedroom, removing the shelf and clothes rod, taking out the ceiling panel, extending a ladder into the overhead recess, and climbing up to the crawlspace.

I even installed 50 feet of 18" x 24" plywood sheets to make a catwalk down the length of the house using this entrance.

No more!

I just completed a new access to the crawlspace from the other end of the house, where a loft exists that sits just 4.5 feet below the ceiling. There's still ladder climbing involved, but it's a fixed ladder that's part of the decor, as opposed to one I have to lug in from the garage. And I only have to remove a 21" square panel, as opposed to a hundred pounds of clothes and an awkward piece of drop-drywall in a closet.

I even framed the hatch (with wood salvaged from our living room ceiling project of last summer--thanks again, Josh and Christopher) to match the trim in the rest of the house: clear-coated white pine. Here are a few pictures to celebrate.

Homeowners: 4

Powers of Chaos and Disorder: 0
(for anyone who's keeping score)

View from the crawlspace:

View from the loft up:With the hatch in place (as yet unpainted):
From the ladder (Escher View):
From the second floor (can you tell the trim is new?):
~ emrys

Le Plus Ca Change (or Revolution)

[If you are not interested in history, or the analysis thereof, I shall not be offended if you skip this entry.]

I just finished reading a book by Gordon S. Wood entitled "The Radicalism of the American Revolution" (1992). It won a Pulitzer or some such great prize for history. This guy's thesis is that the great revolution of 1776 in the British colonies in North America was one of huge social consequence, far beyond the normal high-school summary: Paul Revere giving the finger to bunch of Redcoats because taxes were too high.

Gordon wrote a tome, almost two inches thick, with no pictures and huge paragraphs. It's really a historian's book. But I found his style just accessible enough for me to make it through and gain some good insights, even if I did have to pay attention more than when I'm reading Clancy. Gordon rewarded my attention.

One of the many discoveries I made through this book:
Monarchy was a worldview, way of life, and complete social structure. To believe in monarchy (in the 1700s) meant to believe that there was a great chain of being with many levels, from the king and queen down to the beggar, and one had his or her place in it. Monarchy, though it committed the unpardonable (by our standards) sin of slotting people in classes of aristocracy and lower classes, also allowed people to belong somewhere in society. No one could easily lose one's place in the chain: there was security in knowing where you fit.

The great chain of monarchy also meant that higher levels were responsible for lower levels; the aristocracy was wealthy and didn't have to labour for money, but it also had a responsibility for tending to the lower levels with justice and mercy. The lower levels had to serve the higher levels, but they could depend on those above to tend to their needs. You knew to whom you had to go for help and support. You knew your place, but you also knew others' places.

This is how monarchy offered a cogent worldview which, when operating as it was supposed to do (and we know how often humans do that), explained the needs and responsibilities of everyone in society.

The great shift of the Revolution, after all was said and done (and there was much said and done between the 1750s and the 1800s--hence a 2-inch tome), was one to a society of equality. We applaud this equality, and hold it up as one of the great maxims of our country: that all men [sic] are created equal.

However, when we are all equal, that means there's no aristocracy anymore. There is no ontological lower class. Therefore, no one is beholden by the social worldview to take care of anyone else, and no one can rightly go to someone else and stake a claim on that person's aid. Everyone may (and must) work for self-improvement, and the drive to better oneself--most often expressed in the earning of money--is the one thing which makes us equal.

The Revolution deprived the colonists of their security in privilege and responsibility. Now everyone stood on a level: the game became every man (still just men in those days) for himself. You could make yourself out to be anyone you wished; but you could depend on no one to help you do it. The only tool by which you might curry favour or aid was money (or its equivalent in labour or resources). Every person, it could be assumed, was driven by self-interest--the "pursuit of happiness"--and upon that motivation alone did individuals make their choices: intellectual, political, and economic.

I was struck by the radical loss of security and certitude that comes from losing the monarchial structure of English society. If you don't have a place, then you've got to make one for yourself, and that place can be lost to someone else who wants it. So with the opportunity for self-promotion and aggrandizement comes the danger of debasement and destitution.

Gordon retiterated several times the disappointment of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, George Washington, and Ben Franklin at how the Revolution had turned out. Apparently they hadn't wanted everyone to become quite that equal; they maintained a vision of an educated and politically active upper class who would act for the good of all the people. What they found instead was controlled mob rule where people gathered in solidarity only around economic interests (hence the development of political parties as we know them now). As Gordon put it: it's not that the Revolutionaries' ideas didn't work, it's that they worked too well.

I recommend this book to anyone interested in some heavy, thought-provoking words about how this country came to be the way it is. Reader beware: this one requires your full attention!
~emrys

Just How Cold is 0 Degrees?

So cold that in the 20 step trip to the mailbox this morning my hair (still wet from the shower) FROZE!!

I think today is a work inside day!!