Light and Momentary

Seven Quick Takes: Feast of St. John Edition

1. We have to deal with the coat storage question again. Seven people living in the Midwest wear a lot of coats; there's no way around it. I was bustling out of the house on Christmas morning when the coat hooks began pulling out of the wall. I yelled for Elwood, who was still sleeping and did not view the situation as urgent, but he was not the one listening to the creak of bending screws being disgorged by the studs, or the one being buried in piles of winter clothing. The coats are piled in the office floor for the nonce (argh) and we are trying to figure out a better solution. I was thinking, "It's a shame we need so many coats. It'd be nicer if the kids could meet that need with something more portable. It wouldn't really work for them to carry blankets. I know! Maybe they could grow fur!"

2. And then I thought, "What was IN that beer I just drank if it is making me think my kids need to grow fur?"

3. Did you have a good Christmas? We had a nice Christmas. I've been turning it over in my head, though. Some of the things that we do to make Christmas less crazy and more Christ-centered were clearly foreign to one of our guests, and it's been niggling at me.

4. Things that might make Christmas less crazy for someone else too: 1) don't focus on wish lists at all -- God gives surprising gifts and it's perfectly fine for parents to do so too 2) open presents in rounds, where each person opens one present in some specified order (reverse alphabetical by middle name was suggested a couple of times) and then we take a break before the next round to appreciate that present, work on Christmas meal prep, and step back from the all-you-can-eat overstimulation buffet that is Christmas Day in a large family 3) get the kids' input on year-end giving and make it a fun family occasion to give away a bunch of money to causes that especially speak to them 4) say vespers together with loud happy Christmas carols at the beginning and the end.

5. We also played charades, which we love to do. My 8yo got "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" out of nowhere and he was pleased as could be. That boy couldn't be any more heart-melty, I tell you what.

6. I gave my husband Dixit for Christmas. He loves games; I am pickier about games. I read descriptions of recent award-winning games in search of one that did not have seven million pieces or eight kabillion rules, and Dixit was the winner. It's a lot of fun, and suitable for a mix of ages. 

7. I have been knitting like a fiend this week, trying to finish Christmas gifts. Dear Jamie of December 2014: if you haven't made a bunch of headway on a Christmas gift by the time December starts, wait until next year. My 2012 self sent the same memo to my 2013 self, however, and she did not even pretend to listen. I am going to see my mother on Monday night, and I am hoping to finish not only this sock (Roses from the new Knitty) but also its mate. This might be delusional, but I am going to call it optimistic and see how that works out for me.

Room

I wonder if the innkeeper was grumpy. I wonder if he said, "Enough! All these people, every bed full -- enough already." He couldn't have known that his little bit of generosity -- "I can squeeze you in by the manger" -- would make room for a miracle.

I am tempted to be grumpy. I am tempted to say "Enough!" But I am going to offer up my hospitality challenges in memory of that miracle, recalling that you never know what might happen when you say "Yes!" instead of "Enough!"

Wishing you a blessed Christmas Eve, and abundant grace as you make room.

The rabid gerbil makes herself a List

Okay, my friends in the computer, are you ready for Christmas and in need of something to guide your beatific meditations on today's O antiphon? 

Yeah, me neither.

It was so helpful for me to post my list yesterday, you guys, that I am going to do it again. How about you? What's on your must-get-done list for today?

Personal: write a blog post (see how productive I am being?), exercise, and make a big List of tasks to be accomplished over Christmas break.

House: tidy bedroom, assemble clutter from flat surfaces and spend 30 minutes dealing with it

Christmas: at long last, finish buying niece/nephew gifts and powwow with Elwood re: parent gifts. (Oh, internet, WHAT am I going to give my husband for Christmas? I am totally uninspired and Christmas is Wednesday. Wednesday!) Pack up boxes to go to the PO.

Work: finish submitting letters of recommendation (yesterday's post spurred me to finish the writing, but sometimes the submitting is more work than the drafting), submit conference expenses, work on online survey and productivity report, respond to vexing student email with aplomb

Time to switch to decaf

Greetings,internet, it's Caffeinated Jamie reporting for blogging duty.

You would think that I would no longer be surprised by the way the end of the fall semester kicks me in the pants and puts me behind on Christmas preparations, but guess what? The fall semester kicked me in the pants and put me behind on Christmas preparations! Who knew?

I am so SO SO grateful for my job, and at the same time I am feeling the difference between the assistant professor gig and the NTT lecturer gig. Last year, when I was done with grading and letters of recommendation, I was really DONE until January. This year I have to submit a productivity report on January 6, and I am hoping to squeeze a few more items in there between now and then. Even as I am typing this, I am wondering how much effort to expend. They will tell me I've made adequate progress whether or not I get those things done, and it might be better to make more gingerbread men than to read more articles on morphology. We shall see.

BUT! (Caffeinated Jamie loves the caps lock key.) I am not yet at the point of making decisions about optional activities. I have to finish the letters of recommendation. Today, my friends, the letters of recommendation are going down. Also slated for demolition: the teacher gifts, a belated TA gift, and an attempt to recover from an exasperating Etsy shopping fail. (By demolition I mean only that I am demolishing that part of my to-do list, not that I am going to smash the gifts into bits.) And even if the shopping doesn't quite get finished, I am going for a run. Do you know when I last went for a run? It was Saturday the 7th, and it was a pitiful little run at that.

You guys, I am in rabid gerbil mode as I type this, flitting from one tab to the next, and I clicked over to Facebook when I heard that little BOO-OOP that means someone did something I might be interested in. I have a Facebook friend from the UK who was talking about large families. I clicked through to one of the commenters' pages, thinking she sounded like someone I might like to know. Her FB page pointed to her blog, where I was surprised by a content warning. "She must be writing about birth and breastfeeding," I thought. "Stupid Blogspot." Only-- SURPRISE! It wasn't about breastfeeding; it was a blog promoting her "romance" novels. While I did not linger there, I have to say the content warning appears to be well-deserved. That will teach me to make assumptions about nursing moms with large families.

OKAY, she said as the caps lock key pled for mercy. I am going to SIT on the rabid gerbil and bang out these letters. It's the last day of preschool for Stella and I must use it well.

If you are looking for something less desultory, may I suggest an old post on today's O antiphon?

Words get in the way

"It's the feast of St. Francis Xavier," I said. "Indian or Chinese for dinner?"

"He didn't make it to China," Elwood said. 

"I know that," I told him. "We could have Chinese food in honor of the effort, though."

The boys all voted for Indian, and off we went. We had a lot of trouble understanding our waiter, though. The two youngest boys each asked for a glass of milk when the appetizers were spicy, and it took us several tries to figure out that the waiter was asking if it should be boiled milk or cold milk. When he brought it, we needed several more tries to understand that he was making sure the boys didn't need any sugar for their milk. "Actually," said one of them, "I would like to put sugar in my milk." (No.)

As we were leaving, Stella asked Alex to tell her a story about an armadillo. Alex, who has told her a lot of armadillo stories, was lobbying for a Viking warrior story instead. "What does 'vike' mean?" Stella wanted to know.

"She knows how to briskle," said Elwood, "but she doesn't know how to vike."