Grateful for Gatherings!

I love getting together with people I love. Two weeks ago, our congregation had a "Trunk or Treat" party, a chance for kids to dress up in costume and trick or treat around the parking lot at the back of everyone's car. Suzanna was a mime, Sam a fireman, and Roxie Jane an Elf hunter (her character in Lord of the Rings Online)
I laughed out loud when I saw one of Suzu's friends was also a mime. I encouraged them to have a mime-off. There was much glaring and gesturing.
I laughed out loud again when our friend called the gathering to order with her microphone, and clarified that no, she wasn't expecting, this was just the scariest thing she could think of.
The gear Sam was wearing was the real deal; and that jacket is hot, so he took it off to help with the games. I think it was a bit of a shock to him that this year, he was old enough to help (rather than still being considered a "kid" who needed to be entertained).
Not the best picture of our favorite little houseguest and her parents, but their outfits were awesome. Mom and Dad were worker bees (with tape measures and cooking utensils), while baby was the queen, with jewels
I brought a chair to sit on while passing out candy, but Roxie Jane came back and sat with me when she was done. Some of the other older kids kept going around the parking lot over and over looking for more. We ran completely out of candy!
This is a group photo of another halloween gathering. I wish we could have been a part of it (we already had one elf!).
Stewart is Legolas on the far left. A Koehler Cousin is next as an elf (I think she looks like one of the guardians from Lothlórien). Then Jenni's sister Becca is Eowyn (I think), then the Witch-King of Angmar. Then Mikey (Sarah Babcock's brother) is Elrond and a orcish cousin. Mike Babcock looking pretty rugged as Aragorn, Timmy (SarahB's brother too) as a horse-lord of Rohan (see the horse head on his noseguard?). SarahB as Arwen, Ellie is hysterically appropriate size-wise as Frodo, and then SarahB's Dad as Gandalf the White.

Gather, friends, and be glad!

News!

Because not every post has to be about gratitude in November.

I start work next Tuesday (November 16th) at the MCIJ as a contract employee conducting the TABE and Occupational Interest Inventory exams. There will be a lot of lingo and acronyms, as with any job. But I'm not even sure what some of them mean yet, so I'm not sure I can really explain everything you might want to know.

MCIJ is the Maryland Correctional Institute - Jessup, a medium security facility. The prison itself is operated by the Division of Correction (DOC), a department in the Department of Public Safety and Correction Services (DPSCS). The school with MCIJ is operated by the Department of Labor, Licensing, and Regulation's (DLLR) Division of Workforce Development and Adult Learning. I will be administering the aforementioned tests to inmates to help place them in adult education classes (the primary goal there is to help them get their GED) and to help them target realistic post-incarceration career goals.

Since it is a contract position, there are not benefits. In the interim, it fits nicely with the other part-time work I am doing. We will get by. And if a job opens up as a full-time teacher, I am sure my experience will help in the application process.

Grateful for Cheese!

Landbeck's First Law of Culinary Excellence;

If it goes good with cheese, it goes better with more
cheese.

When Mrs. L and I were engaged, we attended a cookout with her family, and I was horrified to discover that no one had brought cheese for the hamburgers. It has become my mission as an adult to expand the horizons of her family and ensure that everyone has a chance to encounter cheese in all of its wonderful manifestations.

I love cheap, plasticky cheese melted on a hot dog, or a fried egg.

I love pepper jack melted there, too. One of each is great.

I love shredded fresh parmesan mixed in with my pasta. Or cheap powdered store-brand parmesan, fillers and all, layered on my pork chops.

Our friends know that we don't drink alcohol, so when invited to dinner, they usually bring a dessert rather than a bottle of wine. But if they wanted, they could bring an exotic cheese, too.

For almost a year, we had a HUGE brick of asiago cheese (thanks Grandma Jane!) in our freezer that we would get out and grate onto spaghetti. I mourned its passing when we finally ground it down to knuckle-scraping crumbs. And ate the crumbs.

I have joked that I could happily eat almost every left-over in a quesadilla, toasted in our little toaster oven, with extra cheese. Well, except that wasn't a joke. Tip; use a pizza cutter to slice the quesadilla into eighths.

Pizzadillas (quesadilla with pepperonis)
Spaghettidilla (exactly what it sounds like)
Nachodilla (perfect for stale nacho chips)
Quesadilla with barbecue chicken

MMMMMmmmmm

Cheese has been an indulgence, a refuge, a way to make nearly every meal a little more yummy, every snack a little more delightful. I am grateful for the glorious spectrum of cheeses (and cheese-foods).

Grateful for Rest

I started out posting that I was grateful for sleep, but then thought to distinguish between the two; there is some sleep that is not restful, but just lazy/idle. That's not something to be grateful for.

I love the sensation of drifting off to sleep. Love how good it feels to wake up after a restful night's slumber. I have often delighted in my ability to "choose" to sleep. Give me 60 seconds and a horizontal surface, and I am *out*. It is a gift, and I am grateful for it.

I remember my children being very small, and sleep seemed a much rarer gift. Now, I wake up at 4:30am most days (I may not be the seminary teacher, but I sleep next to her, so when she's up, I'm up). We have to be in bed by 8pm if we are going to get a full 8 hours of sleep; something that rarely happens.

But we get enough. Tonight, we'll get an extra hour of it. Though honestly, when we have a day to sleep in, usually we just wake up early anyway.

Grateful for Water

I grew up drinking nothing but juice and milk (and the occasional foray into mature sodas, like ginger ale). I *hated* water. It was boring.

But then I really grew up. Like, I got old, and realized how expensive it was to pay as much for my liquids as I was paying for my gasoline. And how bad it was to drink so many calories.

What really flipped my perception of water was when we moved into our Bailey Road house and we were visited by Mrs. L's Mom (she's currently on a mission to St. Croix). She has an amazing pattern of flying out to help her children with major life events. Not just baby births (which was often the event) but with house moves, too.

She had a glass of water from our well-water tap and complimented on how sweet it was. Her use of that adjective shifted my perspective that water can be more than just a common thing, part of the biological habit required of us to survive. It can be *good*.

Water has come to play an important role in my grown-up recreation too. I've loved being able to go rafting with my sons on their high adventures. Loved going with my whole family last year (and loved that even though I had to fib about my daughter's age to qualify her for a 11-year-old-and-up rapid, we all had an amazing time together).

I've loved going on the water with my Dad, and how willing he has been to include my kids in those trips. They all still ask, often, about when the next time Grandpa can take them fishing.

One of the simple frequent joys of my adult life has been doing laundry. I love how good the laundry smells right out of the dryer, how rewarding it is to get things folded and put away before they've cooled off. I am grateful we enjoy the abundance of water to allow us to wash things as often as we do.


Water isn't singularly pleasant presence. We've had flooding in our basement(s). Leaks from plumbing. Rain-outs for events we really wanted to attend.

But I am grown-up now, and I understand that things have to be considered as a whole. The life that water brings, the fun, the play, the cleansing. They are all worth the bother of copper pipes, solder, gutters and mud.

Grateful for Laughing

"I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith."

"What's the name of his other leg?"

I love laughter, good, clean, joyous laughter. I despise mean-spiritedness, look dimly on mocking, and not a big fan of insult-jokes and ambush-trickery. It is an easy thing, a base thing to make a joke at someone's expense.


Humor can be such a great uniter, an edifying way to lighten the load of your fellows. I seek the company of those who are light-hearted, and laughter is often a good way to find commonality with them.


I love laughing with people I love. Love the rippling sound of heart-felt grinning and giggling.

There is much of that in my home, my life.

And I am grateful for it.

Grateful for Words

I remember being younger, and wondering what it would be like to communicate perfectly. To be able to convey my thought without error, without a loss of meaning. Language is such a cumbersome, often clumsy way to get a notion across.

You can't water this plant too much.

My definition of "joy", or "evil", or "tomatoe" could be slightly, or even wholly different than yours.

It might get lost in translation, even if we speak the same language. You might mis-hear the word I speak. Or I might mis-speak it. Or mis-type it!



There are so many ways for communciation to go awry.

I am grateful for the effort it takes to be clear. The intent required to listen, to understand. Communication is an act of faith, of empathy, and imagination. It manifests the urge to connect, on the part of both listener and speaker (reader and writer).

I delight to hear from loved ones, both far and near. Via blog, email, text, phone, skype, letter, package, hug, prayer, and kiss. But I am especially grateful for the words we speak, and the effort we make to be heard and to hear.