Changes

In a recent attempt to streamline my life, all blog posts that were originally here on thenorrisfam and that would traditionally be here in the future, will now be on saltimbocca.wordpress.com.

Go check it out!

on secrets (a game of tag)…

Stephanie tagged me on this, and Jen has done one too, and I have never done it, so, now I will.

1. I threw up on the Superman ride at Fiesta Texas. Like, on the ride. While I was on the ride I threw up, and the ride was going so fast that it blew back on me, Jon, and the seat itself. Jon quickly escorted me off the ride when it was over and we never looked back to see who ended up in that seat later. I am really scared of heights. And I get motion sickness.

2. Brittany and I made really horrible fake IDs (out of our already not-professional, handwritten-by-the-principal, laminated junior high school IDs) that said we were 18 (we were 13), so that we could get into abar to see Semisonic. With our dads. 

3. And I am scared of needles! Am I high-maintainence? I know shots and getting blood taken doesn’t hurt, but it’s the idea of something going into my vein and some cold, sterile fluid traveling so quickly through my bloodstream. 

4. Before we moved to London, we went for a visit to check out school and houses. There were lots of signs on residences that said “to let.” I asked my dad what that meant and he said it meant that the place had a toilet, but in Britain, it was vulgar to say the word “toilet” so they just left out the “i.” (like writing sh*t?). For a week, I went around pointing at places saying “they have a toilet, they have a toilet!” “wait, that place doesn’t have a toilet?” Then we moved there and I thought the same thing, and I thought Brits were just really vulagar because they always ask “where’s the toilet” instead of “where’s the bathroom.” a few months later I learned “to let” meant “for rent”, and I realized how much of my brain space had been used questioning about and pondering on something that turned out to be crap.

5. When the song Californication hit the UK I was in 9th grade. I asked my dad what californication meant. It was awkward.

6. When I was two-going-on-three, I sucked my thumb. Bad. I was starting to wear grooves into my bone from my teeth biting at the base of my thumb. My dad would come home from work and tell me it was going to turn green and fall off. I kept sucking. He kept telling me the same thing. One day, when I was taking a nap on a weekend, my parents came into my room and painted my thumb green with food coloring. I FREAKED out when I woke up. They made a “phonecall” to the doctor, who said if I wrapped it in gauze and didn’t bump it all weekend and never sucked it again, maybe it would be salvagable. I did just that. By the time we took the gauze off the food coloring had gone away. I never sucked my thumb again. And then, I didn’t know that my parents had painted it green until I was probably 16, when my then-boyfriend/now-husband was over at my house. I actually still thought I had sucked into turning green. The best part about this is that Ben, my brother, has a similar childhood experience that he has yet learn to be a farse, instrumented by mom and dad.

7. I can sing every word to every song on Jewel’s Pieces of Me CD. When I was 13, we went to Germany, rented a car, and toured the country via auto. I forgot all my cds and only had Jewel’s that was already in my discman. 

Wow, those were all really embarassing.

I tag Amber-Rose, Olivia, Carey, Carrie, Kendall, Erika, and Mandy

Photo Tag

Jen is sweet, and has beckoned me back here. I have been cooking a fair amount, but remained stagnant over here. Jen knew just the trick to tempt me out of hibernation. Photos! This is a fun, oh-so-little-time-investment survey photo thingy. 

Here are the rules:
1. Go to your pictures
2. Upload the 4th picture of the 4th folder
3. Post it
4. Tag 4 friends

Here is my picture:

From 4×4

 Jon and I took a break from Lifeguarding 50 hours a week to go to Colorado. He got to show me where he grew up, and I got snot on by giraffes. No, really. We went to the Colorado Springs Zoo, and at the giraffes were really mucousy. This doesn’t sound that bad, because their heads are so far away from my own little body on the ground. But at this zoo, giraffe access is different. I walk up onto this bridge suspended over the giraffe pen. The giraffes are eye-level (nose-level) with your head. It is full giraffe-access. I buy feed from an old quarter-gumball-machine-turned-giraffe-feed-dispenser. Then, I hold it in my hand and let them eat out of it. Black tongues of giraffes licked the feed out of the crevaces between my tightly closed fingers. It’s all very engaging. I try and get the giraffe to stay by my head long enough that we can have Jon have a photo of us together, like we’re long-lost friends, reunited at the zoo. Other people are doing the same, and an older guy with a fancy camera its trying to get a close shot of a giraffe. His wife points out the next giraffe, who has a buggar hanging from his nose. It is all fun and games until the giraffe snots. Everywhere. Projectile snot. I would say this was about a cup total of snot, all out of one nostril, and all onto myself and other spectators. I don’t think a drop of snot was wasted onto the ground or on the bridge. It was gross. And also awesome.

I tag HilStreet, Amber-Rose, Erika, and Stephanie.

The grass is always greener?

More REAP.

R. What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden of God laid on men, He has made everything beautiful in its time. He also set eternity in the hearts of men, yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good where they live. That everyone may eat and drink and find satisfaction in his toil-this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever, nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere Him…and I saw something else under the sun; in the place of judgment – wickedness was there, in the place of justice – wickedness was there. Ecc 3:9-15

E. This all comes after Solomon says there is a time for everything. God has planned everything. We are supposed to do good and be happy wherever we are. What dies that even mean? Solomon knows it is the desire of our hearts to find meaning in our work. He also knows that God created eternity and we can’t and won’t understand it on this earth. It is a promise that he has made everything beautiful in its time. I think this is difficult to come to terms with—that yes…our toil is meaningless…and just lean on eternity! Solomon was so much wiser that I imagine, and was probably that much more burdened by these truths. And he still trusted in them, understanding that God was more than the wisdom he could think up with his own mind. I think we often toil in our work.

A. We feel confused by if we’re doing the right thing, and burdened by attempting to toil with meaningful work, and not let it be meaningless. But Solomon seems to understand that it all can seem meaningless when shone under the light of eternity that is God. God places eternity and eternal desires on our hearts though we will never fully understand them. Maybe that is why the grass is always implacably greener on the other side? Because we are always seeking to understand more, to become closer to that end-promise of eternity. God does all of this so that we will see that on our own, our toils are meaningless. He does it so that we will revere him. That seems simple enough. He does all of these things, he creates all of these iniquities, and all so we will turn to him. So we will ask why, so we will not try to do this on our own, because we are not made to. Solomon recognizes that in place of righteous judgment and justice there is just wickedness. Our sin has bore nasty wickedness that is the cause for hurt and pain and injustice in this world. So it seems as though we’re not supposed to understand everything, but we’re supposed to lean on the promise of eternity. Looking back through all of this, it seems kind of ridiculous that I try to understand the meaning in everything that God does and that I can’t just rest in the fact that He has all knowledge and all power. It is a bit pretentious that I think my small mind, in my small body, in a city in a state, in a country, on a continent, on a planet, in a huge, huge universe, could easily comprehend the plans of the God of the universe.

I can now nurture

a garden.

My girl shovel, from Garson Farms

From garden

Two weekends ago, Micah and Jon built Erika and I gardens. They are beautiful.  They were an adventure.  Micah and Jon tilled the land, hauled and laid railroad ties, and hauled and laid new soil.

Our garden

From garden

 

While they toiled amongst the land, Erika and I dressed up for and 80s kids party Long with her sister, Sarah, and then went straight out plant-shopping. Our scruncis, Erika’s blue leather boots, and my sparkle shoes got us some free plants. Please review the following list of what we are growing, multiply it by two to include the Knox’ garden, and then realize that we zipped home with all of these plants for about $20. We were very proud.

We are now growing:

Golden Swiss Chard

Tomatoes

Green Bell Peppers

Jalepenos

Fennel

Cucumbers

Acorn Squash

and Mint, Rosemary, and Basil.

Acorn squash is crossed out because he is officially kaput and the cucumber is halfway down death row. You get what you pay for with .98 plants.

The next day, we planted these plants and Micah and Jon built fences around our gardens to protect the fruits of the weekend’s labor from pairs of rambunctious dogs.

Here is the chard

From garden

And the bell peppers

From garden

And the eggplant

From garden

Everything is going smoothly. I will continue to water daily and try and talk my plants into producing some fruit. And I will coax them into pressing on with a hard days’ work with coffee.  Much like I do for myself.

If I give you these coffee grounds, will you grow?

From garden

Oh, and something is eating my jalepenos.

Jalepenos

From garden

and my squash bit the dust. It looks like something from The Grapes of Wrath.

acorn squash...rip

From garden

Sometimes Elton Gets Into

all sorts of stuff: Dryer sheets, sponges, burrs at the park.

 

And sometimes he gets into mud.

From Dirty Elton

From Dirty Elton

on boring, normal-ness…

Today seems dull. It’s drab outside and though impossible, it seems that silence of blah is causing me to fill my head with a cacophony of thoughts and noises, making the silence more evident. I want to do something fun, something different. Not sure what that is, and even if i were doing it, that I would feel fulfilled.

 Timely qoute hit my inbox this morning from my dear aunt:

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are… Let me not
pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. One day I
shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in my pillow, or
stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than
all the world, your return.

I will bask in my normality and pray that the latter day does not come any time soon.

 

Here are some photos from the last two months…as I post them, I realize that this sweet life is all but boring.

celebrating family…at saltlick.

 

celebrating love…central market for a date night.

 

celebrating friendship…roommates, best friends.

 

celebrating marriage…weddings.

 

celebrating youth…first time at the ocean.

 

celebrating suffering…new life.

 

celebrating wisdom OR potentially burning down the house. you choose.

on righteous suffering…

Parts of an email I had the privilege of writing earlier today…

Yesterday at church, Halim talked about the first 18 verses of chapter 9 in 1 Corinthians. In those verses, Paul defends himself for his ‘inalienable’ right of being supported by the church to which he gives all of his own money, time, and efforts. Paul validates himself as an apostle, and then asks relentlessly, “since we [Paul and Barnabas] have planted spiritual seed among you, aren’t we entitled to a harvest of physical food and drink?” This seems like a rhetorical question and I read it and want to scream, YES! Paul, you have done so much for the church…you are surely entitled to so something to eat…you spend your days writing and preaching, instead of working in the town, but that doesn’t mean you should be depraved of food or shelter…I would surely feed you.  And then Paul goes on, “If you support others who preach to you, shouldn’t we have an even greater right to be supported?” Again…yes….. But also again, Paul goes on.

“But…” – But what, Paul? I said I would feed you! Come! Sit! Eat! But Paul doesn’t want to eat, he says “But we have never used this right. We would rather put up with anything than be an obstacle to the Good News about Christ.” Ahhhhhh…and there it is, suffering for the gospel. Suffering? Yes. Suffering. But this…is not suffering for our own Glory, or for our own demise or selfish sorrow, rather, it is suffering because whatever that particular suffering is, will bring more glory to God that not suffering.

This made me think about some dear friends. Childbirth. The beauty in the unrequited suffering that is childbirth. My God was brought sweet glory when my friend endured and brought her daughter into this world, as family and friends sat in awe, anxious in excitement. She and her husband have taught us so much about living wholly for God. They’ve poured resources and wisdom into us and then challenged us to figure out how it is that we think God wants us to live. Their pensive thoughtfulness through medicine has led us to think carefully – not to effortlessly negate simple sufferings with a quick fix, but to endure them, and to learn from what God is telling us.

And in conclusion, Paul finishes, “If I were doing this on my own initiative, I would deserve payment. But I have no choice, for God has given me this sacred trust. What then is my pay? It is the opportunity to preach the Good News without charging anyone. That’s why I never demand my rights when I preach the Good News.”

Right now, as suffering is endured, preach the Good News in your joy for your family. Encourage with your genuine care and love, and your restlessness and determination not to wallow in your suffering.

sadness

I got an email today, and in the nice way that gmail does, it let me see who the email was from and the first line of the text before i even opened it. I was delighted. One of my oldest friends had shot me a note. It has been a long while since we really talked, which is sad, and almost unforgiveable as we live in the same city. Regardless, it was going to be great to hear from her. I opened her email and read, scaning everyword slowly, and then closing it quickly. The eagerness that had so readily overcome me was replaced just as quickly with hurt and sadness. Alison’s mom died. She died two weeks ago. And I shut the email because I didn’t want to see the words anymore. As if I didn’t see them, they wouldn’t be true. But it was too late. It seems like it is always too late these days.

I take the dog to go for a walk just to get out of the house. To hear something other than the hum of the refridgerator and see…life.

Mindy and Alison used to pick me up from the airport when I would come in from London. Mindy would take us to get Auntie Anne’s pretzles and parouse the latest sale at Foley’s. She had grown up a ballerina and had never seemed to really lose it. At 40 years old, she could stand on point and lift one leg aaaaaaaaaaaaaaallll the way up and affix it behind her head. She was limber and graceful and she was always Alison’s best friend. In the summers when I was younger, Alison would stay at her grandmother’s during the day, and sometimes I would tag along. Mindy always called her mom ‘grandmother’ and it always seemed so proper a name for the cool, calm, affectionate relationship that she and her own mother had. Grandmother would teach us to sew things and we would bake cookies in the afternoon, and Mindy would comy by after work and gather us up to head home. Mindy and Alison came to visit in London, and we saw Cats and scoured around the Tower of London.

I am not sure why people are dying. I mean, I know why in my head, but my heart feels sad. I feel like I have seen and known more death and pain in the last year than in the rest of my years combined. We are too young for our friends parents to die. We are too young for our friends to die. My head knows that God does all things for his glory, but I want to scream at times, where is your glory? my selfish eyes wants to see it. my vindictive, sinful heart wants you to prove it to me.

I am being shattered of this illogical thought I have kept tucked  away that I am invincible. I know that this sounds ridiculous, but in my head, really, I think we were born in America, we eat well and take care of our bodies. I exercize and I don’t smoke. We have plently of doctors that can fix us and money that can pay for it…yet, I am not really thinking all of that matters so much. It does matter, and God gave people the wisdom to be doctors and the precision to be surgeons…but that doesn’t guarantee me anything. Not Next year, or next week, or tomorrow. It is being revealed to me the power of God and the naiveity of myself.

We are talking about money at church, and in a carter-kind-of-Jesus-kind-of way…we’re not talking about five steps to get out of debt or how much to give to know that you’re doing your part…but we’re talking about where your money is…there your heart is, and vice versa. And my head spins thinking about all of this but I think most of what is hitting me now, is that we think so much about money…we really do, but isnt it the family and the relationships that matter?

Alison – thank you for letting me be a part of your mom’s life. She was a wonderful woman.

Presenting…Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Zainfeld.

We went to Houston last weekend for some dear friends’ wedding. Daniel and Lauren have been dating since the summer we graduated from high school. Daniel headed to UT and Lauren to Baylor, and they both graduated and were off to UTHSC and UTMB Galveston respectively. Talk about a patient (and intelligent) couple that is both endearing and enduring.

The days prior were filled with a bachelor camping trip, last-minute errands, a rehearsal and dinner (complete with Mexican lasagna that I have been commissioned to figure out and will post here), and some last-minute get-togethers with friends.

Daniel and Lauren’s day finally came on July 21, 2008. The church was ready and the guests were seated. Weddings are beautiful, aren’t they? I wait patiently, through the flurry of grandparents and barrage of bridesmaids for that one moment. The moment that the cacophony of strings instruments and almost-audible anticipation in the groom’s heart ceases, just for a minute, so that everyone can stand and see the bride. The. Bride. The bride who spent a year planning this wedding, who spent six years dating the groom and will spend sixty more. The bride who wanted this color of napkins, and then that one, and then back to the original and no one cared, because this was her event to make decisions about. The bride who was surprised on her engagement day – not surprised because she didn’t know that she would marry this man, but surprised that he found a way to catch her off guard, they both knew they would be together. The bride who loves her groom because he encourages her to love Jesus more than she loves him.

There were no sundry qualms in anticipation of this wedding. Daniel and Lauren had waited long and hard, and most of the crowd had been there, along their sides at one point or another, waiting too. Everyone was excited.

The ceremony and reception were off without (with?) a hitch! Daniel was Jon’s Best Man at our wedding and Jon was able to reciprocate. It was great to see family and friends, and also catch up with Andy and Laura (also here), Daniel’s oldest sister, and their supercute kiddos: Kate, who debuted as flower girl, and Jack, who just pulled through on his duty to be a charming 10-month old.