So - We Suppose There IS Something New in Life

So, the reality - for those of you who haven't figured us out yet - is that Leon and I are terrible bloggers.

Seriously.

Imagine that in several thousand years, someone is able to unearth the Internet and digs through all of the unfinished, yet-to-be-updated pages of millions of people (people that Leon and I seem too much like). They would look at our blog and think, "How sad. Some people were content to be happy only about the purchase of a new table. How tragic their circumstances. How devoid of meaning their daily lives must have been."

Yup. That's us. Doing our part to contribute to the cultural anthropology of 2007 America.

In reality ~ life is too full for blogging (there, that sounds justified!). With a summer jam packed FULL of events and vacations and Gatherings and .... BABY, where do we begin?

(And our other question is always this, "who's reading this thing?")


So ~ unlike sad promises I made to myself each January in my personal journal, I will not claim to be turning over a new blog leaf. BUT the update is that Leon and I are having a Baby Girl. Her name is Sydney Grace and we couldn't be more thrilled that she will soon be part of our daily, mundane, apparently dining room table fixated living!

There she is, peering up at us. It's like one of those puzzle art pieces a few decades back, stare at this long enough and you will see two eyes, a little nose, and the indentation of lips as Sydney's little face peers up at the ultrasound dealy. "Hey, what's going on up there?" We of course think she is gorgeous! And definitely worth writing about ~ so perhaps we will turn over that new blogging leaf.

In the meanwhile, I am off to enjoy another cup of java at my dining room table.

+Gret & Leon

Easter Bunnies, eggs, and little ba ba bas

We didn't see the Easter Bunny this holiday ~ but we did enjoy the traditions of the day with awesome music at Immanuel (a full, and I mean FULL orchestra and choir provided worship through various selections of The Messiah; it was awesome), sunny (if not as warm as we might have liked) Missouri weather, a fantastic meal, and a day spent cooking and conversing with Dad in our kitchen (while Mom and Leon goofed around and enjoyed Leon's new PS3).

Mom even managed to provide photos of the "new" dining table ~ which is officially "christened" as of this festive meal!

It wasn't a loud or boisterous Easter. We didn't hunt for eggs or have to wake up at sunrise for church choir (well, Leon did ~ the ubiquitous Youth Easter Breakfast happens even at Immanuel) or because little ones wanted a basket. We can't, of course, wait for such distractions. I suppose you might say we are fond of ~ but ready to long for ~ civilized holiday celebrations. (Remind us of this in a few years ~ God willing ~ when we have to hold our eye lids open with toothpicks and Easter dinner sounds great catered in rather than gourmet prepared ... though I don't think I will EVER relinquish my quality time with Dad as we cook on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter ... Columbus Day. You know, all the biggies.)

Easter this year kept Leon and I mindful both of what we have lost and what we have gained through Christ. In preparing for my GIRLS' group Passion Week study, I wrote the following during my morning quiet time:

We have been told that God is love. One of the greatest ways God shows His all-consumming love for us is in his promises, which he keeps and remembers always. God demonstrates his great love for us by keeping his promises; and the trust that we find in God and his love enables us to love others.

Passion means first suffering. Then intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction, and finally love.

The sacrifice of the Cross is what saves us to love God and others. It is the central symbol of all humanity; it is the most important element in the Christian life. Only by the Cross can we truly love and trust God with our lives and our passions.

And, I would add, with our hurts and sufferings. Leon and I are ever mindful of this "both and" reality of our lives. Yet, we rejoice! And we are hope-filled!

As Job says, "God gives, God takes. God's name be ever blessed." (Job 1:21).

Blessed and JOYous Easter tidings to you all+

G & L

What a Dining Room Table Means to Me - An Essay by Gretchen

We have been married nine years this June. In that time, we have been burdened with a fantastic quest; in truth in recent years, the quest seemed rather endless and we really despaired of ever seeing it through.

What was this Holy Grail of ours?

To find the perfect dining room table.

Not something that would "pass" or with which we could just "make do" until, magically like manna from the sky I suppose, some other table would drop in front of us ~ but a table that was at once perfect and useable, upscale and family friendly, modern and traditional ... something we want until we are 95, something that our kids can crayon all over and our family can gather around for holidays and feasts and Tuesday night soup. The kind of table that makes you want to sit a little longer; drink another glass of wine, and never, ever say "Let's go sit on comfortable chairs, eh?"

We found it. And on Saturday it was delivered.

A dining room table (and of course matching buffet, hutch, arm chairs, etc.) is one of those pieces of furniture that can make you feel pretty elderly. Truthfully. We danced around the living room singing, "We're so old!"

I mean really, the things are so solid ~ and you never really get rid of a great dining room table. Like family at the holidays, it's there to stay and its residence can be obnoxious or endearing and beloved.

We think we've got a winner.

Now, this is not to suggest that we have eaten on the floor or at a card table for nine years. The table we have used lo' these many years belonged to the Grandmother of Jack Fish. And it has a story that illustrates the point; if a table can set a bar - Grandma Fish's table came with an excellent pedigree ~ our new table has much to live up to.

I taught with Jack at Milwaukee Lutheran. He was in his late forties when he decided to return to Seminary, and he and his wonderful wife packed up their home and headed for a small apartment in St. Louis. Grandma's table went to a pair of newlyweds (along with the Fish's washer/dryer) and the Fish's went on to a new life. We were so thrilled. It came with chairs and everything. It was enormous and in need of refinishing (who has time, I cried ~ let's paint it to match our funky earthy dining room!) and the chairs were in quite a state. But it's served us well.

I love Grandma's table. I never knew this woman, but having gathered around her family table for nines years I feel a bit of an affinity towards her. And really ~ what a table. For starters, it is absolutely enormous. It has this fantastic leaf that actually folds right into the table (a neat trick our new table doesn't do ~ and we now have a leaf in our front closet). The pedestal underneath is large enough for a toddler to sit on comfortably (and most of you know this is important because there is nothing quite as cool as a fort under a solid, fortress like dining table). There's a story with this table, it has a sense of history. Apparantly, Grandma wasn't this table's first owner, either. And the insane thing is, the table doesn't shimmy or shake, it's as solid as the day it was constructed. Amazing.

I wanted a new table that was as enduring as Grandma Fish's table. I want a table that has potential to have a story.

And now we have one. And it's extremely exciting.

I suppose this makes me ancient, or just really, really odd. Getting all jazzed about a dining room set (well, that and I just voluntarily used the word "jazzed") but it's so much bigger than a table. It's about permanence and family ties and communal times to come.

So, we'll get back with you in a few years to let you know how she's holding up. In the meantime, I'm headed for the crayons ...

Mardis Gras

Those who know us well, know that New Orleans is a city dear to our hearts.

We first visited as newlyweds on our honeymoon and the combination of music, food, history, and soul was addictive. We have since journeyed to New Orleans every year of our married life at least once (but usually far more times).

We love everything about New Orleans, from the feel of the French Quarter to the touch of the breeze on your face as you stroll along the levy and the Mississippi glides along beside you; from the grand houses along Saint Charles to the funky painted river shacks along Burgundy.

We love the people of New Orleans, who demonstrate an exuberance (even since the storm) that cannot be described in words. They have a gracious hospitality that makes you feel at home. They have a sense of tradition, family, and love for living that is downright infectious and makes you tap your foot, join along and (if you're lucky) carry just a bit of the South home with you.

We love the food ~ of course ~ of New Orleans. Whether beignets at Cafe Du Mond in the early morning with a cup of steaming chickory coffee (even on 100 degree days), Turtle Soup au Sherry at Arnauds, Praline Bacon at tiny little breakfast haunts in Fobourg Marigny, Gumbo anywhere with the crusty French bread that is only found below sea level in New Orleans, waiting in line for a Mufaletta at Central Grocery, fried Pecan pie and burgers at the Camillia Grill at the end of the St. Charles Streetcar line in the Garden District, Alligator Sausage Cheesecake at Jacques Imos Uptown, a Po-Boy from Mother's where the one hour wait even on a steamy summer afternoon is worth every minute, the Avacado Shrimp salad at the Napoleon House, Bread Pudding at Commander's Palace, even a Lucky Dog consummed on Bourbon street at 2AM ~ food just tastes better in New Orleans.

Music. When Katrina was coming, and Ivan the summer before (yes, Gretchen has been there for each) ~ what you noticed first (besides your favorite Daquiri stand closing on Bourbon) was the silence. The music stopped. In the months after Katrina, it has taken time ~ but the music is back in the Quarter. What a sound. Preservation Hall is the best ~ where you have to tip $20 to hear "The Saints" but you won't ever hear the song the same way again. Or taking a ride over to Frenchman's Street for an evening at Snug Harbor ~ where Ellis Marsalis is know to drop in a few nights a week. Street musicians abound ~ some better than others ... the best can be found in the mid-afternoon at Cafe du Mond. And don't let them fool you ~ they'll take your tips, but if you want a CD (and yes, you will want) they can whip out the credit card machine before your VISA leaves your wallet.

There's just something about New Orleans.

It's Mardis Gras ~ and most folks outside of the South don't get Mardis Gras ... it's an intensely family-oriented celebration. Our friends in New Orleans are loving today, sort of a mid-year Thanksgiving. And we celebrate with them. We've got a great batch of Gumbo going on the stove, and french bread. We're picking up our King Cake (and here in Saint Louis you HAVE to call a real bakery and ask for the traditional almond paste King Cake ... traditional cakes don't have crazy fruit filling like Soulard's "traditional" cake claims!) and we will celebrate family, food .... so as the Cajun's say "Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Let the good times roll!

A Life Most Deliberate ~ Resolute

A few years ago, Leon and I determined that the word "resolute" would be an important word in our marriage relationship.

Denotatively, the word means: marked by firm determination; bold, steady, faithful

Connotatively ~ it translates into deliberate living. Waking early to eat breakfast together ~ even when the snooze button is calling. Making time to exercise together ~ even when the work pressures seem debilitating. Creating that special meal from scratch ~ and always remembering to light candles at the dinner table, even on a Tuesday. Remembering to pick up a bottle of strawberry milk at the market ~ especially when making a mad dash to grab a few necessary items on the way to or from ... we always seem to be going to and from.

The days that I live deliberately are my favorite. The days that I wake early. Eat breakfast. Read my Bible. Listen to NPR on the way to work ~ and listen to quiet on my way home. Find time for a heart pounding exercise and trying out a new recipe ... unwinding at the end with a favorite TV show and a glass of Dad's Norton ... those are the days I love. Nothing special ~ just deliberate living.

Tonight, I found time for yoga practice and a leisurely bath ~ I am writing in my kitchen while a pot of white chili bubbles on the range (and frankly, the aroma is amazing! Yum-o!) ... waiting for Leon to arrive home from what seems to be a great night at youth group (Overtime, and the activity is a game called "Sardines" ~ he already wrote a text message to proclaim the night a brilliant triumph!) ... "Frank's Place" on the XM radio (and the thrill of seeing the TiVo light on capturing my favorite Sunday night programs: Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters ... don't you just love time shifting!) I love evenings such as these, particularly on Sundays ~ the week actually begins with a semblance of order and calm. I like that.

To some, this probably sounds dreadfully dull. I can name a few friends who will read this and say "you need kids" ... and some day, God willing, we will have them! And then, we will redefine what a life "resolute" feels like, the pace and ebb and flow will be drastically changed ~ but the core value ... living with deliberate intent won't change (at least we hope so as "old" parents in our mid-thirties ... hopefully that's one perk!)

So, as the week begins ~ here's to deliberate living. Enjoy your own version of a life resolute.