Mississippi mud

A week ago at this time, Dylan, Zach and I were just being seated in a restaurant on Royal St. in New Orleans as part of a group of 10 youth and 3 adults.  We had  spent the week in Pass Christian Mississippi working on rebuilding houses with Mennonite Disaster Service.  The weekend in New Orleans was supposed to be the fun part of the trip.  The boys and I were part of the group that had wandered the French Quarter most of the afternoon and had seen one too many men wearing red dresses.  (It was the Red Dress Run for Charity- $50 enters you in the race and gets you beer, food and a red dress)  

It was a good week.  We were with the youth group from East Chestnut St Mennonite and also worked with a variety of "long term" MDS people.  By long term, I mean anywhere from 2 weeks to 2 months at this particular site.  There were 5 different projects that MDS was currently working on. Dylan built cement block pillars for 1 house, stained a porch, mowed a lawn and mudded.  Zach spent mudded and taped, built a deck and used a weed whacker leaving a lovely J shaped scratch on his leg and did more mudding. I mudded and taped, painted and stained.  The lawn mowing and weed whacking was at the MDS property and the boys were not happy about this.  When the long termers expressed their appreciation for a job well done with some applause, Ben Adams summed up the boys' feelings. "Wow, 20 seconds of glory for  7 hours of misery."  

Mudding is what I've called spackling.  It has to be the worst job ever.  The group previous to ours did the easy part by mudding and taping all the flat areas of the drywall.  Our group had to do the corners and where the ceiling meets the wall.  It didn't help that it was 110 degrees and we were on ladders in small closet spaces.  Did I say there was no electricity yet?  On the 2nd day of this, when I was sweaty and sticky and stinky, Erich looks at me and asks, "Is this better than your real job?"  I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

The best part for me was the chance to talk with the home owners.  These were all people who had lost homes during Hurricane Katrina and had gone through all the red tape seemingly required to replace them.  To get a house built by MDS, people have to go through local case workers and meet certain criteria.  They have to own the land being built on and have enough income to be able to pay the property taxes but not enough money to rebuild on their own. They have to have been turned down for certain loans.  The houses are either 2 or 3 bedroom.  

Sherry told us her story of helping to evacuate the nursing home where she works and then of having to leave her dogs behind when she left with a friend.  The dogs didn't make it through the storm.  Neither did her house or possessions, but she wasn't as concerned about that.

Billy is a disabled man who was at his house every day clearing stuff up, talking and laughing.  He wants to have a big garden to raise food for himself and some others.  

Another woman who's name I'm not remembering has moved into her MDS house already.  Last summer she volunteered in the MDS kitchen and just stopped by to chat last week.  She was telling us that there is a fund raising effort in Pass Christian for the victims of the floods in Iowa.   This despite the face that the city government and library continues to be housed in trailers.  Many people have left the area entirely.  It was amazing to see how quickly nature takes over.  

I walked around our old neighborhood in New Orleans which actually looks better than it did 15 years ago when we lived there.  I think there was a fair amount of gentrification going on before Katrina and the lower garden district rebuilt quickly.  I wish we could have toured the areas that were more hurt by the broken levees but, well, we just didn't.  New Orleans is still full of character and I want to go back.   But like Zach says- it needs to be with someone who wants to do what I want to do!

So now we're back home and adjusting to life with Tobin in Montana.  It really sucks. But that's another blog.

Dropping Off my Ol' Man in Montana

If I could sum up the entire Montana trip in a sentence you would be bored...so would I. So instead I get to fill you in with the trip complete with my opinion.

We started on a Friday afternoon when my dad and I packed up, picked up my mom, and headed for Iowa to retrieve my brother. Extremely exciting the whole way, believe me, nothing more amazing than the magical landscape of Iowa. I don't want to spend to much time talking about our time in Iowa but there is one event that totally blew my mind. Yes, that's right, the IMS annual talent show fundraiser otherwise known as Mennos got Talent. It was insane. I mean Chinese Yo-yos, little kids playing out of tune violins, a song about Jesus' court, and to top it off, my uncle Tony dancing! and people stayed?! Yes, all two hours. Sure, it's a community event but really? Nothing else to do?

And that's why I'm a city boy.

Moving on. 4:00 Monday morning, we leave for Montana. For most people, a twenty hour day of driving is horrifying. However, for me...not so much. I've discovered that my body works strangely. Its great. I was literally able to sleep more than half the time spent in the car AND sleep through the night and into the morning longer than anyone else. Yes its true. Sitting around doing nothing exhausts me despite shoving caffeine and sugar into my body at every meal. Although it could've been South Dakota that caused it...I dunno.

So we get there Tuesday afternoon after stopping at my Great Aunt Dots house in Montana and crash in some other vacationing History professor's house...toddler bed and all. I never felt so manly than when I slept on Cars' Lightning McQueen sheets. Kachow! \
Tuesday is also the day where we got to meet my dad's groovy seventies apartment. And yes, we actually did meet it, if you stared into the carpet long enough it talked.

So now we have a week ahead of us to get to know the place, move Dad in, and try to vacation.

Yeah right.

Here we go.
Wednesday-Tour day
We got a realty tour from the real estate agent. Two conversations can lead to a realty tour
Conversation 1- "Let's go on a Realty Tour"
"Okay"
Conversation 2-
"Hey! Lets be uncomfortable"
"What!?"
"Yeah, and bored too, and lets do it for two hours. Come on!"
"Are you insane?"
As you can see, the first one is used to ensare unsuspecting normal people.

Next tour was the University of Montana tour. It was a college tour...nothing more.

Thursday- Shopping Day

Good Lord...WHY?

Friday-Moving Day
Now the carpet has furniture to talk to.
We also played tennis. I was the best. Read it and believe it baby.
After dinner we went to this other profs ranch, got a bison range tour and slept over. Nuff said.

Saturday-Glacier Park
Note: If I sound at all sarcastic...it is sincere.
This was probably one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. Logan's Pass is something that everybody should see before they die. It's beautiful and you can drive there.
Hike the hidden lake trail too...nothing like hiking in snow in shorts.

Sunday-Hike the M/minor league baseball game
We hiked the large M on a mountain in the morning. That was cool...whatever.
Minor league baseball, however, is much more commentable.
I have decided that single A minor league baseball is the single most depressing sport..ever.
Its really bad when you have to wake up and think I get to play the Missoula Ospreys today.
Its worse when you have to wake up and think I have to go play for the Missoula Osprays today.
Its even worse when you wake up and see the Missoula Osprey mascot costume in your room.
Honestly how can that guy stand the job. I mean sure, he(or she, women can have crappy jobs too) seems happy. But I guarantee you that whenever YMCA comes on, they're crying on the inside of that mask. Nothing like being reminded about where you'll soon be living than by a Village People song.
Alright thats a little mean, maybe he(or she) likes it, acting practice, whatever but I would be crying if I had that job.
End of Sunday

Alright Monday we left, got home Tuesday. End of story. Hope you enjoyed the blog. Hope you aren't offended (I really do like Iowa...and guys that dance in bird costumes.)

That's it...I'll write again when I get back from my Mississippi trip this week.

Saying good-bye to good soil

Tomorrow morning I will say good-bye to our church. We've gone to Community Mennonite in Markham for six years. Although I'll visit there three or four more times before Cheryl and the boys join me in Montana next summer, after tomorrow I will be more guest than member.

I will give my official good-bye during children's time. Somehow that seems appropriate. Children know how to say good-bye and mean it. When I was ten or eleven, my best friend Danny Snyder stood with me at the end of a country lane near Bloomingdale, Ontario, waiting for my mother to come pick me up. It was the last time we would spend together before my family moved back to the United States. Danny said good-bye by crying. It was a gift I have never forgotten.

The sermon topic for tomorrow is on the soil imagery of Matthew 13:1-9 and 18-23. I will tell the children that there is only one thing I want them to remember about the passage. I will tell them that they need to remember that their church is good soil. And then I will ask them to help me say good-bye to their church.

First, I will read a list of the good, rich soil that has settled in our church. I will describe:
- Shirley's care in telling me about the escapades of her cat every Sunday when I sit next to her in the pew;
- Mertis's unfailing good humor even when she has to stay behind from a family reunion to care for her ailing daughter;
- Martha's evident joy when she starts prayer by clapping for Jesus;
- Paul's ability to draw wisdom from the animals in his life;
- Keith's faithful prayer requests for his clients, neighbors, friends and family;
- Bonnie's ability to make Zach smile by hugging him every time she greets him;
- Lee's willigness to do a new thing by reading scripture in many scripture dramas;
- David's courage to stand up and offer prayer for his family even though he is young;
- Grace's persistence and humor that does not let anyone think too highly of him or herself;
- Chuck's playing of his guitar until the strings break;
- Jocelyn's dancing;
- Steve's Christmas letters;
- Cyneatha's sermons that she gives without notes;
- Ivorie's ability to move us through meetings without breaking a sweat;
- George's smile;
- Laura's and Eric's and Karen's passion for all our youth;
- Delores's care in cutting out job advertisements when I was searching for work.

I will tell the children that the list could go on. There is so much good soil in our church.

But I will then ask them to remember all those people for me and tend them well. I will tell them that I can say good bye better because I know they will be there to grow in the soil that is their church. I can say good-bye because they are there to water and weed, to soak up the sun, to prune, and to bear good fruit. Both gardeners and gardened, the children like all members of the church will tend and be tended. They will do so well. I can say good-bye knowing that I have been so tended and have offered my tending as well.

Tomorrow morning I will say good-bye to our church. I will miss Community Mennonite in Markham. I will miss the good soil there.

Freshmen, Drunk People and July 4th

don't mix. In fact, what pops out after all the stirring and mixing is a concoction equivalent to a very crappy night. Let me explain.

I would first like to point out that I have nothing against any of these things by themselves. (With the possible exceptions of freshmen and drunk people) Anyway...the day went by perfectly fine. I marched with my school marching band in the annual Evanston Parade. This went fine...except for freshmen that can't walk in step of course...but was a good experience overall. I then met up with my parents and my cousin Erin and her boyfriend Matt who had come down for the afternoon. We conversed in highly intelligent and interesting conversation about music, long distance relationships, and devil cats. Apparently Matt is fond of devil cats and so we disposed of ours to him (Wonder how thats going.) When they left I just chilled for the rest of the afternoon and had a wonderful time of it. Here's where the junk starts to happen.

Every year, we try to make it down to the fireworks display on the beachfront that the city of Evanston puts on every year. Every year the beaches are packed with circles of suburbanites complete with their blankets, folding chairs, glow sticks and beer hiding hole digging shovels. (They dig holes to hide the beer...they don't hide the beer in the shovel). Its a joyous event. You might be expecting this to be the moment that the drunk people enter the scene. Alas it is not...this is the moment that the freshmen enter the scene (although I have a theory that the two may be one and the same...hormones do crazy things to people). A very large amount of freshmen to be exact, mobbing right behind the Menno suburbanite circle my family had established (its Menno because no beer was involved or dancing for that matter). Within a few minutes of being exposed to the awesome stupidity of the freshmen behind us I catch the statement "this is the awesome moment right when my medicine is starting to wear off." It was at then that I began to think about how hard it would be to grab one of them and throw them in the lake. Another defining moment of the night was the boy who pulled a girl(who was taller than him ha ha) in between me and the fireworks to whisper something very important and dramatic to which she replied "uh, you're such a liar." LIKE, OH MY GOD. So as you can see [no meds+drama=ruined fireworks]. Ya don't learn stuff like that in high school.

Now to the drunk people. Around midnight I decided to head to bed to get some sleep. Unfortunately, drunk people like to be with each other i.e. a July 4th party. So I'm lying there with my room exposed to the outside sounds thanks to my air conditioner. Now, most parties produce a incomprehensible babble similar to white noise. Not drunk parties, though. Noo drunk parties insist on singing the National Anthem at the top of their voices. Drunk parties insist on talking at a very loud babble...not similar to white noise. What does this lead to...no sleep.

So that was my July 4th...how was yours?

On Parental Sacrifices and Growing Older

Last Thursday night found me sitting in our car in a Walgreen's parking lot on the south side of Chicago for two and a half hours. While I ate lukewarm beans and rice, mushy carrots, and week-old sheet cake with chocolate icing, Dylan and Zachary were living the good life in a White Sox box suite replete with ribs, wings, sandwiches, salad, sodas, beer (which they reported they had none of), ice cream, cheese cake, and a baller view of home plate. While I read a dissertation from the 1930s on Fresh Air exchange programs, the boys cheered the Sox on to a rousing ninth-inning victory over the team from Cleveland (I refuse to use their racist name). And while I flipped my way through a cheesey novel written in the 1980s that also featured Fresh Air children, Dylan and Zachary were already plotting how to get back to another game in a catered box suite. By the time I picked them up around 9:45, they were both high from caffeine, sugar, and a glimpse at how the wealthy live. Of course, given that I'm not only a sacrificial parent but also an aging sacrificial one, they were able to drop off into immediate slumber the minute they flopped into their lofts whereas I was awake for another hour. I finally went to sleep pondering how a history of the Fresh Air children and the White Sox could bring me tenure.

Speaking of aging, I had another reminder that I am growing older on Saturday this week. Cheryl and I had attended the graduation of one of our pastors, Cyneatha Millsaps, from Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary in Elkhart, Indiana. On our way home we stopped to fill up the car with relatively inexpensive Indiana diesel ($4.59/gallon as opposed to $5.05/gallon here in Evanston). I pulled out my wallet to give the cashier my credit card and she happened to glance at Cheryl's and my graduation photo. "Is that you?" she asked incredulously as she looked back and forth between my mid-1980s head of hair and my late 2000's lack thereof. I nodded, closed my wallet and signed the receipt. "At least you still have the picture," she added as if to say - can you believe that anyone has any artifact from those bygone days?

I think she wasn't even thought of when our picture was taken of, let alone conceived.

So I walked back to the car, told Cheryl of my encounter, and just felt grateful to have enough of my wits about me that I was able to drive the rest of the way home safely. I think the cashier would have been surprised to discover that I can still wrestle both my sons to the ground. As long as that still happens, I'm not yet ready for the retirement home.

So it's been awhile.   I could say I was sick, but that was only last week.  

 Here's what's happening tonight.  I just got home from having dinner at Devon's, a new seafood restaurant at Chicago and Wabash,  paid for by 2 pharmaceutical companies.  It was especially nice because it was just the nurses at our office and we didn't have to listen to a long "educational" spiel about cholesterol.  We could just eat - lobster bisque, grilled tilapia, asparagus, mashed potatoes and fresh fruit. It was lovely.  

Dylan and Zachary were invited to a White Sox games in one of the boxes behind home plate by their youth group leader.  Last I heard it was tied in the 8th. 

Tobin was a good father and drove Dylan to the game after play practice so he wouldn't have to miss either one.  "Dylan is playing 2 roles in A MidSummer Nights Dream.  Neither role has any lines but he is on stage a lot.  He plays attendant to the king and attendant to the fairy king.  Performances are June 5,6 and 7 if anyone is interested."

We've been stimulating the economy lately in our moving preparation. Tobin has rented an apartment in Missoula for next year. It's in the basement of a house and has red carpeting. He's bought a new bike.  We all have new phones because we had to switch our coverage to Verizon. (all the same numbers, though).  Dylan's retainer broke and has to be replaced. Tobin's pen scanner broke which makes him heartbroken.  Does it need to be replaced?  Zach and I haven't been spending any money at all.   

I've been trying to make pots in my beginners pottery class but that's not going very well.  The wheel is a lot more difficult than it looks.  The first 2 I tried just completely collapsed.  The next 2 are short and have lopsided walls.  I'll start again in 2 weeks.  

Zachary tried out for the orchestra/band for the falls Yamo production at the high-school.  This as a show that is student written, directed and performed.  He thinks he did ok after some initial jitters.  And he nailed the joke telling portion of the tryout.  

Dylan is trying out for the acting troupe tomorrow.

Enough from me. I'll get the others to write something soon.

  

My first blog ever

After numerous hints and reminders from my family, I am finally writing an entry which, as duly noted in the title, is my first blog ever. I must admit that I still don't quite get the attraction of this kind of public journaling. Seems like a type of streaking with none of the adrenalin and all of the exposure. Nonetheless, here I am, writing for public - albeit a very limited public - consumption.

By way of update, my days are spent adapting my dissertation for eventual publication, writing class lectures and syllabi for the fall, and preparing for my relocation. Regarding my manuscript, I sent a chapter, introduction, and table of contents to Johns Hopkins Press last week. It will be a number of weeks before I hear back from them. Nonetheless, I keep on writing in good hope. I am enjoying the process of preparing for classes although it is a bit hard to stay focused and motivated from a distance. I will be teaching Introduction to African American Studies in the fall. In the spring, the African-American Religious Experience and African American History: 1865 to the present. I can hardly wait to be in the classroom again. As for moving, we've settled on professional movers (moving parties no more! woo-hoo!) and I'll soon work with a Realtor in Missoula to settle on a one-bed room or efficiency for the first year until Cheryl (and the boys?) join me at the end of June in 2009. Then there are things like having to change our cell phone carrier because our current carrier does not provide service in the state of Montana, getting my bike in working order because I hope not to buy a second car after I move, and thinking through what I will take with me and what Cheryl and the boys will keep in Evanston.

So, I'm plenty busy. Looking at the calendar I realize that I only have three months here before I take off for Montana. We'll leave on Friday, July 18, spend a full weekend in Kalona, Iowa, and then take two days to drive to Missoula. Cheryl and the boys will spend three days in the city getting to know the place and the people I'll be working with and then return to Evanston. It will be a long four months until I see them again at Thanksgiving.

There. My first blog. Enjoy.

Tobin

Debilitating needs

On Monday morning, Tobin laid in bed and groaned.  He doesn't get sick often, so he thinks God is punishing him when he does.  "Why am I getting sick now?"  My unappreciated answer was, because of germs.  Sadly Zach had a similar germ so half the family was laid low.  Dylan and I, being awesome, did not get sick and went on to school and work.  We came home and opened cans of soup for supper because the chief cook was still laying on the floor,  groaning.  When I offered to prepare something for supper for the following night, Tobin checked to make sure he does nice things for me when I don't feel well.  Of course you do, I assured him.  Dylan was also affirming.  Dad, he said, you have a debilitating need to do nice things for mom.  You're always doing nice things for mom.   

I'm hoping that debilitating need gets passed on to Dylan and Zach.  Come fall when Tobin's in Montana and I'm here, I'll miss those nice things.  I'm hoping to be able to do my job from home 2-3 days a week starting in September.  The management at my work has to be convinced that this is a good idea so I probably won't have an answer for a few months.  But skipping the hour long commute will allow me to be here when the boys get home from school and do nice things for them too.

Tobin and Zach are well again and back to arguing about bedtimes.  Zach was the only one of us to feel the earthquake Friday morning but he mistook it for the cat shaking his bed.  

First Real Post...

So this my first real post actually concerning the blog's main purpose, to inform people about our lives and stuff (I'll provide the stuff). I should, however, update our faithful readers, and gossip mongers, on the present conditions of my life. First off, Junior Year. Yes, it does deserve caps and yes, it does deserve a scream in horror. Fortunately, its almost over with less than a quarter left and I would be excited except that final exams really suck. I'm also finished with my junior research paper and was able to quote two of the Beastie Boys, Chuck D, and ?uestlove. It was awesome. Junior Year also means college search. I refuse to talk about that now(maybe later). Hmm, what else, as far as recreation goes, I'm in band on the Tenor Sax, rock out on the guitar, and just joined the Ultimate club at school. What can I say, my life's a party. I think I'll end it right here. That's probably not close to being a good update on my life but I like to keep a sense of mystery about me... I'm also rather lazy.

First

so apparently my mother thinks that writing a family newsletter is equate-able to writing a blog and that being funny is just as as easy. However she is wrong being funny is hard, as is using correct punctuation. All i can say is thank god for spell-check. is equate-able even spelled like that?

after being propositioned to write for this blog, wonder how many times that word will come out of my mouth, that zach has so cleverly named Blogorama Deluxe Super-Huge Ego or whatever i figured it would be something that would keep me from being bored, then i bought a gameboy and rediscovered the awesomeness of pokemon. Pokemon's coolness lasted for about a day so i had to find something other to do so i did this. unfortunately i don't really know what to right about so there goes that idea. I have however written two paragraphs about nothing so it just goes to show how much a bored person can actually do.

For all you memphis fans out their who agrees with me that calipari really should make his people shot free throws i mean missing 4 out of your last 5 ? that's just disrespectful. I also had them winning in my bracket so it's even more then just disrespectful.

The Office returns on thursday the 10th anyone else excited?

Interesting wikipedia (the king of all internet sites) fact of the day: Felix V was the last legitimate antipope and opposed Pope Nicholas V from 1439-1449.

By the way if you're ever bored somewhere with two people and a computer, the wikipedia game is always a good way to waste time. Just pick a noun, click on random page and the first person to find the noun wins

Dylan

ending beastie boys quote: "i'd guess you'd expect to catch the crew rhyming"

Template Change

Due to several(meaning one) complaint about the color of the template we have decided to change the template of our humble blog. This decision came after some hard thinking but we felt it was for the best. It wouldn't be a true blog without the one fan who spends their evening on the internet posting snarky messages and feeling very pleased with themselves afterward. So please, allow your eyes to enjoy the fresh new template and each time you read a paragraph think to yourself, "thank you, ed, thank you."

This is the first entry on the Miller/Shearer Blogorama Deluxe so named by Zachary who was given the job of creating the blog site- thus the URL.  (Of course it's true)

Given the upcoming changes is our family's life, I thought a blog might be a fun way to keep family and friends up to date on our status and just life in general. 

 What are the chances of this family blog succeeding?   Zach tells me he'll post articles about how cool he is.  I don't think Dylan has weighed in yet.  I'm hoping Tobin won't be too stressed in his new job to add a few lines about his life in Montana.  And I'll try to keep things up to date.  More or less.  If I don't forget or get too tired.   And can think of something to say.

I'll give it a 50% chance.  Those of you who've read our Christmas letter know how witty our sons can be, so by all means, encourage them.  

I'm hoping someone more technologically more adept than I am will post pictures and stuff. (OK boys?)  

Right now, we're all in Evanston. The boys are in the final stretch of their Junior year. I will have worked at the same job for the past 6 years as a triage nurse at Northwestern Medical Faculty Foundation come July.  Tobin is getting ready to graduate and go through the hooding ceremony in June and then in July he'll move to Missoula Montana.   Think we're in for some fun?   

I'm going to finish my milkshake now.