I [heart] Trader Joe's, chapter 97

Getting out of the car this afternoon after a marathon of church (choir rehearsal, worship service, congregational meeting, worship committee meeting - almost 5 hours!), I had a really good idea for a blog post.

By the time I was upstairs, it was forgotten.

I haven't forgotten you, little blog!

So instead of whatever brilliant insight I was going to write, let me tell you about my currently favorite salad. Looking at the bowl, I realize that almost everything is from Trader Joe's... which has been a theme here on occasion, no?

a big bowl of baby spinach leaves
grape tomatoes, cut in half
3-4 whole canned (not marinated) artichoke hearts, quartered
handful of pine nuts, toasted
a good hunk of feta cheese, crumbled (I used a lot of this, about an ounce [?] because it's been around a while and it needs to be eaten up, but it looks like even more in this photo!)
Newman's Own light vinaigrette (the only non-TJ ingredient here)

Relish with delight and in good conscience.

emptying the ol' emailbox

A friend sent this to me around this time last year; I think I was too wrapped up in my personal loss at the time to appreciate it thoroughly, nor to share it (as it should be shared). So, a year late and a dollar short, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have:

The Turning Seasons

The pendulum swings, and swings back.
Every action has its equal and opposite reaction.
So we are born, and eventually we die.
We plant seeds in the spring, and rip out roots in the fall.
Killing and healing tread on each other's heels.
Buildings go up, and get torn down;
new buildings emerge from the ruins of the old.
The Phoenix rises from its own ashes.
You lose someone you love;
you bounce like a ping-pong ball
between tears and hysterical laughter.
If despair were forever, you couldn't carry on,
but you carry on because you know
despair will someday be displaced by dancing again.
You can't make love all the time;
sooner or later, you have to become friends.
You misplace your house keys; you find them.
You forget someone's name;
it comes back to you in the middle of the night.
You lose a job, and a new career opens up.
You spend the first half of your life gaining possessions,
and the second half giving them away.
The animated conversations of young lovers mature
into the comfortable silences of long familiarity.
Why should we expect a single state of mind,
a single snapshot of experience, to last indefinitely?
Does a pendulum stop at the end of its swing?
So war and peace, love and hate,
togetherness and aloneness,
inevitably cycle and recycle.
This is how God teaches us.
Life is full of resurrections.

(by Jim Taylor)

all the best to you and yours in 2010!

advent calendar #2

a beautiful classic:

Advent calendar #1

(not my photograph)

In celebration of the season of Advent, I am going to avail myself (and you, dear Reader,) of the many Advent calendars that are available in this treasure trove we call The Web.

Ironically, first up we have a secular calendar. (If, indeed, one can call the very Heavens "secular"...) Enjoy, check the site for daily updates, and be sure to read the captions for extra enjoyment.

P.S. this is my 100th post!

an Advent opportunity

It is an interesting thing to balance, this time between now and the end of the year. On one hand, there's Christmas. Joyful red and green celebrations, twinkling lights, peppermint and jingle bells; elegant, raucous, beautiful, silly music; pine boughs, wet streets and secretive errands to bustling stores ~ I love it all. On the other hand, there is Advent. Candlelight, reverence and preparation for the Child who was born to die for us all; solemn hymns, passionate purple, the spirit of discovery, wonder and unworthiness of it all ~ this, I also love.

In recent years, I have been so very concerned with keeping Advent, that I lost Christmas. I became such an Advent pharisee that the season became lost. A short excerpt from last December's blog:

I count myself among a small minority who prefers to honor Advent - in church, at least - by not rushing Christmas before it's time for that baby to be born. ...without Advent, how can one enjoy Christmas? I don't know. I just feel as if, by insisting on putting Advent first before Christmas in my personal celebration, in these past few years I've missed both and end up somewhat empty-handed and empty-hearted when Christmas comes around.

I'm not one to get caught up in the hype - in fact, I will run in the other direction if I see hype creeping in - so gross consumerism is not the issue here. A change of heart is in order, and shan't be too difficult. After all, I've been a Christmas Keeper from way back. I love this stuff, and I'm going to let myself have it!

Tonight I read a wonderful sermon by a Unitarian minister who goes by the name of Peace Bang in the blogosphere. She makes excellent points about what she calls the confusion of the season, and recommends we treat Advent/Christmas like the thanksgiving feast: "I think that if you want a juicy holiday season, you must rest like the turkey. A half an hour every day." A daily dose of Advent-Sabbath, if you will. So that is what I am going to do.

Starting tomorrow, December first, I am going to do one thing each day to celebrate and prepare for Christmas. It might be something big, it will probably be something small - but it will be my own personal Advent task: to find joy in this balance of preparation and celebration.