Transfer of Faith

It took me over three weeks to read The Poisonwood Bible. Rarely does it take me that long to read anything and if I'm reading a book of little importance that I know I will struggle with due to writing style or just plain dislike I will typically return it. Thankfully I got over the "I must finish this book because I started it" guilt about a year ago but this one kept tugging at me. Although I loathed the thought of my evening reading time being consumed by a book that seemed to never end I crawled my way though it. And in hindsight I'm a better person for it. Not for finishing what I started, I've set enough of those examples in my life and continue to do so, but for listening to the little words. When a novel is over 500 pages it is natural to exit the narrative with the big picture and forget the small parts that pushed a button when you read them or that flipped a switch as you felt a pang of recognition.

You can search the Internet and find all kind of summaries and character descriptions while avoiding the actual reading of The Poisonwood Bible. But what you would miss is the meat of the book. The parts that make you pause and leave you wishing you could sneeze such thoughts out of your mind. You would escape the embarrassment of living in a nation of plenty and forgo the desire to know what "want" really is. I may have empty pockets but at least I have pockets and it is my burden to fill them.


"But Antole said suddenly, "Don't expect God's protection
in places beyond God's dominion. It will only make you feel
punished. I'm warning you. When things go badly, you will
blame yourself."

"What are you telling me?"

"I am telling you what I'm telling you. Don't try to make life
a mathematics problem with yourself in the center and
everything coming out equal. When you are good, bad things
can still happen. And if you are bad, you can still be lucky."

Nipping off the Runner's World

My Runner Girl is trying to peel herself off my van. I'm a little disappointed because I thought we were tight, like coffee and cream or chocolate and caramel. But I'm thinking she is trying to tell me something or maybe she is hinting that she'll stick around but in a different way. Not as secure, not as dependable. She might fly off on I-475 and never come back. So I'm looking for ways to keep her around, entice her with something exciting, so I signed up for a half marathon. Then I bought new running shoes and a week later invested in trail shoes and another stick of Body Glide because I'll be damned if my fat, lazy, overly-social mitochondria are going to keep me from lacing up my shoes and running.

My mitochondria, the powerhouses of our cells, are letting me down. According to my neuro-muscular specialist typical mitochondria should be small in size with smooth edges and evenly spaced in the cell, when she called to share the results of my muscle biopsy she did not use any of those words. Instead she said things like prolific, misshapen, clumping, large. I thanked her for the compliments and told her she forgot to use the word "normal". Better luck next life.

So instead of figuring out the keys to my supposed lupus I have been given a new disease to contend with: primary metabolic mitochondrial myopathy. Try Googling that with the word "runner" and the results are not promising. Lupus was/is (because now it is unclear) a challenge but at least I have these little pills that I can take to keep it in check and I'm ready to travel to Africa at a moments notice. Not so with the mitochondrial myopathy. Right now I take a cocktail of over 30 medications/vitamins/supplements a day to try to kick my mitochondria into behaving. And like the children, they just don't seem to want to listen.

Culinary Appreciation

If you have any inkling of appreciation for food you must try these or convince someone to make them for you!

Efficacious signs of grace

Blessings,

smiles,

and cupcakes make for a perfect Confirmation and First Eucharist Celebration.

Happy Easter!

Hallelujah!

Hello Spring?

The other day I had MY first sign of spring but didn't blog about it because I did last year and didn't feel the need to repeat myself. Instead I found some other positive indicators that wearing a skirt may be in my near future:

The rhubarb is bursting out of the ground.

The crocus' are making a feeble attempt even though it snowed on them today.

This daffodil is waiting patiently to say hello.

The hyacinths are taking a peek too.

And the oldest boy is back at work hydro-engineering.

Zoup!

Saturday seemed like a good day to whip up a pot of soup, Food and Wine's Hearty Minestrone to be more specific. I'm not a huge fan of Minestrone but as I was sitting in some office for some appointment I wrote it down in my little "things to remember later" book and so I went at it with gusto on yet another chilly spring morning. It was my first time playing with shallots, fennel, and pancetta and we all got along just fine. And next time Rachel Ray attacks her fennel bulb I will be able to relate.

It all starts with the white beans and we are fortunate to have a dry bean grower in our basket for friends so these are locally grown beans:















I think I was a prep cook in my former life:















Food art:















Cooking until softened:















The finished product: