The Grangiest of Fairs

No, I am not sitting on my porch. (I don't even have a porch, though you would of course be welcome on it if I did...). I am being initiated into the essence of Centre County at the Grange Fair (and I am babysitting this sign while its owner is otherwise occupied....)

Thanks to my friends Amy and Claire, I found myself in the midst of a large population of Centre Countians, perusing the various sights, sounds, and foods available for our consumption.

Some of those sights (and did I mention smells?)

involved barns full of various animals, like these darling goats.

They were very friendly, and Amy enjoyed getting to know one small goat in particular.

We found the pigs to be fascinating in a "I am horrified

and yet I am mesmerized" kind of a way. I observed that their

"oinking" sounded more like the croaking of frogs who are

suffering from some sort of chest cold.

I have never heard such a thing in my life....

I made friends with this cow who, oddly enough, asked to have his picture taken with me. I think it turned out well. I would send him a copy, except that he was in the "beef cattle" barn (as opposed to the "dairy cattle" barn) which makes me think that his time for picture-gazing is short....

I was not aware of the variety of vegetables/fruits in the world, nor of the variety of ways to judge them.

I would love to know the criteria of what makes a first place vegetable/fruit as opposed to a third place vegetable/fruit, but I'm not sure I will ever find out.

Here we have a first place basket arrangement of said variety of fruit. (Again, not sure of the criteria, but apparently this one had what it takes.)


(I really wish I knew the criteria for why these small blooms received first place....as Claire said, I could have entered a dandelion and maybe it would have won?)

But don't get me wrong: My favorite exhibits were probably the flowers. I took more than a few pictures as I gazed in rapture (but have spared you the excess....)

I will, however, share this one with you because ever since I lived in Princeton, snapdragons have been the state flower of Lauren. I would go to the farmer's market in nearby Trenton and buy a large bunch from one of the farmer's selling his wares there, and he would always give me a second one free of charge. (He was a very discerning man, and understood the necessity of flowers to my soul I think....)



The real reason we went to the Fair, however, was not to be educated about pigs or to wonder about the judging criteria of stuff the earth produces, or even to take pictures of multitudes of flowers.

Our real reason for going to the Fair was to eat. Here is Amy with the fried mozarella cubes that we started with as a first course. Think mozarella sticks but thicker and gooier, coated with the best batter you've ever tasted, fresh out of the hot dripping grease. You're probably only half-correct in your estimation of how good they were, because you cannot fully appreciate what you've never experienced yourself. (Sorry, but that's just the way it goes....)

After what we deemed to be an appropriate amount of time, we had a mid-course lemonade. You know what I mean: the kind of lemonade you can only get at places like a Fair, where the lemons are freshly squeezed, the sugar water they mix it with is full of that crunchy raw sugar, and where the cup has pictures of lemons all over it. Sublime.

Again, we waited what seemed to be an appropriate amount, and then went after the main course. I chose this hot sausage sandwich because I felt that I would leave feeling not quite happy with my fair experience if I chose something else. I think I was correct in my assessment, as I was thoroughly satisfied by it's spicy peppery goodness.

We finished off our evening sharing some monkey bread (which was a good idea, both in that it was delicious, and in that there's no way we could have eaten a whole one on our own).

That was our final treat.

Oh, except for the milkshakes we picked up on our way out....

(Today I am detoxing....only water and lettuce for me!)

to be like children

My friends Heather and Ash have two delightful children named Sarah and Kate. On Thursdays H & A go out for dinner and to a meeting, and I watch S & K. We usually make dinner and play some games,and there is always some sort of piggy-back/wrestling/lauren-spins-kate-through-the-air-until-she-can't-see-straight experience. We laugh a lot, and have a lot of fun.

Last night, we decided we needed to take a walk toward Sarah's school. We gleefully and gayly headed out, doing a bit of running, a bit of skipping, (a bit of wearing S & K out so that they would go to bed with ease). We remarked on how fun it is to skip down a never-ending hill. We did not stop to think about what that meant for the trip home.

Alas, we did not make it far up the hill until Kate decided she had had enough. Since I wanted to get home some time before she turns 5, I hoisted her on up and away we went. We stopped a third of the way up the never-ending hill for Sarah to look through the grass alongside the road. We stopped two-thirds of the way for Sarah to check the time on my phone and to subsequently snap a picture of Kate and me (decidedly not our best angle...).

I am glad she did though, because it gives me an excuse to reflect here on something I have been thinking about recently. My Life Group (bible study) this week was talking about the verse in Matthew where Jesus tells his disciples that to be the greatest in the kingdom they need to have faith like a child. We talked about what this might mean, about what it means to be child-like.

I found myself thinking about Kate, who is at the height of her child-like-ness. When I arrive at their house, both Sarah and Kate run to greet me. Sarah usually hugs me and then moves away, but Kate has taken to leaning herself against me with her arms up. This is my cue to lift her so that she can just drape herself over me. The thing is, she knows that she is loved, and she trusts that I am a safe place for her. She doesn't question it, and she has no real self-consciousness or boundaries as she puts her chin in my neck, pats my face, and just loves me back.

So, what would it look like if we loved God like that? If we just draped ourselves all over him, without boundaries or self-consciousness? (I realize I am neglecting to mention the whole holy-fear-factor, but go with me here....) What if we put our chin in his neck, patted his face, and just loved him back?

This man deserves a medal...

...and not because he's a champion turkey carver (despite what the evidence suggests....)

This is my Uncle John, who married my Aunt Nancy when I was at the very gracious age of 16. (You may read between the lines and understand here that I was not very nice to him...)

Through the years we have kept up a love-hate sort of banter, but he has endeared himself to me and to our family because of his loyalty and love for us and particularly for our grandparents.

So, Uncle John, let me take this opportunity to say Happy Birthday, I love you, and you make our family better. (Don't get your hopes up that this will happen again....;-P)

(And, go get Aunt Nancy a tissue....)

p.s. You also make an excellent turkey carver, and our holidays have not been the same since you joined us.

"How can I control my life when I can't control my hair?" ~Author Unknown (but it could have been me...)

The other day my friend Heather pointed out that in every picture of me my hair appears to be in a different mood. This intrigued me, after I got done laughing. I have always said that my hair seems to have a mind of its own, so let's explore its many personalities:

(Caution, graphic images to follow)

On this particular day, my hair felt frazzled.

Life is so full of responsibilities, and sometimes it just can't keep up.

(It may also have been considering growing a garden of vines,

or keeping an aquarium of snakes.)

Then there are the straggling days.

Not quite on top of the game, but not quite so behind.

Lazy might sufficiently describe it's mood--it doesn't seem to care.

There are more confident days.

Days where it is self-assured, willing to be a bit on the edge of normal because it knows it has something to say. It marches to the beat of its own drummer, but that is OK. It values itself.

Because it knows it is capable of those kinds of days, it allows itself some freedom to just be. There is no plan here. Carefree, whimsical, lovin' life.

It should, however, keep in mind that there is always the potential for days like this:

WOW.

(I believe it thinks it can fly....)

On these schizophrenic kind of days, you can cut the tension with a knife.

(You could also probably cut through my hair like you're cutting through cheesecake--it is just that thick.)

Maybe it is aware of how far it is possible to fall (or expand), because on occasion it allows me to have a minimal sort of control. While still asserting itself by the random curl that just will not be contained, on some days we live in companionable ease.

And sometimes I get the distinct sense that it feels protective of me, as if it is suggesting that I should be careful of how much I let others see. It wants to know that you, the viewer, are deserving of a gaze into my eyes. It does not approve of full frontal eye gazing.

Although...

...it may just be saying "I will go whither and whether I choose".

(Is this evidence of an ornery side? Some would say it is being most like me on days like this...)

There do seem to be days where we are in sync with each other.

Case in point:

Confusion.

Running on adrenaline only.

(You may not know me enough to tell it, but when the above picture was taken I was truly exhausted...)

We also share a reverence for spiritual things.

(Remember Moses? I think here we are re-enacting the burning bush.)

Now, please do not misunderstand me. On the rare occasion when my hair is forced into compliance by a skilled technician (ie., my hairdresser), I have a hard time recognizing myself. I walk around looking into mirrors and car windows saying "Who is that person?!"

And were it not a bit boisterous, I would not be able to mangle it up on special occasions with little to no effort and still achieve an elegant result.


It is vivacious. A piece of artwork in motion.



And it enjoys a bit of romance.

Who wouldn't mind being associated with these types of things?



On some ordinary days it quite pleasantly and gracefully allows me a bit of elegance as well,



and some days it is just downright cooperative:

I am always humbly grateful on days such as these.

Of course, there are days when it experiences its own dose of humility:

Grateful for the person who invented bobby pins and headscarves, and for my commitment to our high maintenance relationship.

In the end, I suppose we are well-suited to each other. I am, it turns out, awfully attached.

brunchin' it up for the summer...

Meet my girls, Yu-Chen and Yi-Ting. We have been on this doctoral journey together for what is going on our third year. I can personally testify that I would not still be here if it were not for these strong and courageous women. We have aged. We have laughed. We have cried (quite a bit actually...). We have raged in anger (ok, it is usually I raging in anger) and we have listened patiently (ok, it is usually them listening patiently). Our conversation has ranged from men in our lives (good and bad) to the workings of God in our lives (understood and not understood) to the point of this doctorate in our lives (the jury's still out on that one), and that is just a blink of what it is we find to talk about. Basically, we are living life together, and our lives (or mine at least) are better for it.

This summer Yi-Ting initiated a weekly brunch, and we took turns hosting. Let me tell you, we are talented in areas beyond music and teaching: we know how to eat. (Actually, it may be more appropriate to say that we know how to cook, because, man, we were cookin' and eatin' well over these past few months...)

Some of our brunches were not captured on film (but imagine waffles heaped with pecans, sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs), and some were lost when Yu-Chen's camera was lost (the ones capturing Yu-Chen's various variations on French Toast--you had no idea french toast could be so sinfully delicious.) Every week we outdid the last.

Yi-Ting at one point decided we needed to have an authentic Asian brunch, so she made
some Asian dishes that I do not know the name of. One looked like an eggroll (and can be seen in the picture at the beginning--I'm holding it because she gave us the freedom to make our own, and I couldn't put mine down or it would fall apart. :-/), and the other was this bowl of sausage goodness.

These pecan sticky buns went with the hash and eggs pictured above at my first hosting, and today we finished off our summer at my house with cheddar cheese omelettes, bacon, and country bread. Included also was a delightful fruit salad, since our tradition has become that every week the visiting (non-hosting) members of the trio brought some kind of fruit. We are so health-conscious.


We were hoping that the three of us would be sharing an office this year, which would have been very beneficial toward our mental and emotional health, but sadly Yu-Chen will be only next door to Yi-Ting and I. I don't know if we will have the time to continue our brunching, or if we will even see poor Yu-Chen (Yi-Ting is stuck with me, so she has no choice poor thing...) once the semester gets under way but I am grateful for a good summer of good friends and good eating.

I think I'm going to go forage for some food now--I'm hungry! ;-)

home sweet sweet home

Have you ever taken a day to just drench yourself in beauty?

On our drive home we decided to take a few extra hours and drive through the Shenandoah Valley, and we did not regret it. We did, however, regret the death of many butterflies who committed suicide on the front of my car. (I put this picture forth as proof that I am a butterfly lover and not a hater.)

We parted ways in Harrisburg. I arrived home, unloaded my car, got some groceries, and then sat on the deck with my land-people and enjoyed the coolish night air, fun conversation, and a glass of wine.

I woke up this morning, prepared to take on life again. (That's good, because life is about to take on me....) I have learned many lessons this summer, the most valuable being that God truly does provide for our smallest need. I will take on this year (for perhaps the first time) with joy and gratitude for what He has called me to do, and I have hope that it's going to be a good one ;-)

Barukh attah adonai

dappled and drowsy...

We are tired, we are fully satiated, and we have run out of things we want to see. Therefore, we are enjoying an early evening in our hotel. Dad's going to head toward the pool with his bathing suit soon, and I'm going to meander there with my book since my bathing suit seems to have been lost somewhere in all of my moving and reorganizing over the past year. I had it last summer--this summer it has become a mystery. Weird.
We left this morning at a reasonable hour for a day at Monticello, stopping for breakfast at a place called Aunt Sarah's Pancake House where the pancakes were great but the coffee not so much (but that's ok because we'd already indulged in starbucks on our way out of town....)


We made it to Monticello and took in all there is to see there. Thomas Jefferson was an interesting fellow, and his house is very cool. Maybe someday I'll build myself an octagonal room with a bed stuck in the wall...

The grounds were nice to roam as well, and since my mother behaved herself today I allowed a picture to be taken of us outside the house. We will keep it for posterity.



We saw our fill, and then drove back to Richmond. We did a bit of browsing in the few shops that were open in Carytown and then got some dinner at Nacho Mama's, where I had been hinting all weekend we should go.
(I really just wanted a margarita, and was not disappointed...)



Tomorrow we might go to church at St. John's Episcopal, which has some historic meaning, and then we head for home.

I have had a great time away, but I am ready to get back. The details of life are calling me, and sometimes it's fun to deal with them when you've had time to forget about them, drenching yourself in irresponsibility (or, in the words of Paul Simon, dwelling in the reality that you've got "no deeds to do, no promises to keep"....)

I am indeed "dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep" at the moment, but tomorrow I'll be ready to go ;-)