The Donati String Quartet

Ahh, youth. And, blessed youth when one is privileged with the leisure to imagine, learn hard, and work hard. Just before winter break, Oldest Daughter and three of her fellow musicians at Oberlin Conservatory decided to form a string quartet. Further, when they returned to campus the first of February they would work very hard attempting to make it into the live audition round (quarter-finals) of the prestigious Fischoff Chamber competition, held annually at Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana. So, during the first week in February rehearsals began in earnest (four-five hours a day on top of their other studies and musical commitments) and after just three weeks of playing together, the Donati String Quartet submitted their dvd--rushed by overnight express--to the competition judges. Below is one of the recordings they made for dvd audition.

The Donati String Quartet

Twas a thrilling moment when the Donati String Quartet learned they had made it to the quarter finals, being invited to the live auditions, held last week at Notre Dame. The weeks before Fischoff--about 12--were, in a word, intense. And while intensity described just about every aspect of their preparation, from rehearsing to learning music, to juggling other obligations, to learning about interpersonal relationships, it was wonderful all.

There really wasn't much disappointment when the quartet didn't make it into the semi-finals. Oldest Daughter said that their quartet didn't deserve to make it to the semi-finals--the groups that did were amazing, playing without error. This disqualification was hardly a loss to their quartet, who in the process of working hard, hard, hard, attracted the attention of the string faculty of Oberlin Conservatory, receiving many extra coachings along the way.

Also along the way, the Donati String Quartet entered and won a competition held by NPR's Performance Today (announced during the last three minutes of Hour 1) and thus will be flown to St. Paul tomorrow to receive a master class with artists-in-residence, The Parker Quartet. And at the end of the week they will fly to Washington D.C. to represent Oberlin at the Kennedy Center's Millenium Stage.

Then there is the matter of a few finals to study for and take when they return to campus--Feet-Back-On-The-Ground.

The other birthday recipe: Oven Roasted Broccoli

Along with the Lemon Chicken recipe (two posts down), I handed my dear family a two pound bag of broccoli and this recipe for Oven Roasted Broccoli , found at a recently bookmarked blog, Honey and Jam.

Oven Roasted Broccoli
from Epicurious

1 1/4 pounds broccoli crowns, cut into florets (about 8 cups)
3 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 garlic cloves, minced
Large pinch of dried crushed red pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F. Toss broccoli and 3 tablespoons oil in large bowl to coat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Transfer to rimmed baking sheet. Roast 15 minutes. Stir remaining 1/2 tablespoon oil, garlic, and red pepper in small bowl. Drizzle garlic mixture over broccoli; toss to coat. Roast until broccoli is beginning to brown, about 8 minutes longer. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

I encourage you to click over to Honey and Jam to see the beautiful broccoli pictures this young blogger has posted. And speaking of beautiful food pictures and recently bookmarked blogs, just a little clicking around has revealed a noted blogging trend: young women--some still in high school--who are cooking, baking, photographing and blogging with amazing finesse. At their age I had barely mastered the basic chocolate chip cookie recipe. If you like Honey and Jam, you might also like some of the recipes (and photography) on:

Cooking for Seven
17 and Baking

A couple more cooking blogs I've been following:

Smitten Kitchen
Orangette

I may never buy another cookbook. Well, maybe that's going a bit too far.

Garden Art

Today as I was doing the morning dishes--well, actually the evening dishes, but I was doing them in the morning--I admired one of my blooming foxgloves from the kitchen window. And as I appreciated its form, slender and reaching, and its color, creamy white blooms and green foliage, I noted that the concrete wall with peeling paint that served as its backdrop did nothing to enhance its beauty. But, wouldn't a black backround look nice? And, the sunlight was hitting the foxglove just perfectly. I left the dishes to search for a piece of black fabric, and after pressing out the wrinkles, I taped it to the wall behind my foxglove.

Foxglove

I guess this is what you call flower portraiture. Pleased with the result of my foxglove picture I set my eyes to searching out other blooming forms and colors which might likewise be enhanced by my black fabric and just the right amount of sunlight. The pink ranunculuses growing nearby were a bit spindly as far as ranunculuses go, but all the better for my picture.

Ranunculus

I think I've found a new angle on an old hobby.

Lemon Chicken

Lemon Chicken. Such a simple name for such a Wow! dish. My sister-in-law posted the recipe on her Italian food blog last week and when I read it I knew it was just the recipe to offer to my dear family who had offered to cook my birthday dinner.

"Chicken?" queried Tayta. "But that means I'll have to touch raw chicken." And so she did, facing down one her culinary fear factors. The lemon chicken was fantastic and Tayta proclaimed it our new favorite chicken recipe.

Lemon Chicken via my sister in law, Shandra, via Matha Stewart

~Allow time for marinating: 1 hour to over night

Combine in a bowl:

1/3 cup coarse (grosso) sea salt
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

Loosen the skin of the chicken from the flesh and rub/pour the lemon/salt mixture under the skin and in the cavity of the chicken. For the best flavor and texture, marinate the chicken for a few hours or even the day before you roast it, but if you've only a half an hour it is still worth the effort. When done marinating, rinse the salt off the chicken and prepare the gremolata.

Gremolata
1 bunch parsley
2-5 cloves garlic
zest of 1 or 2 lemons

To make the gremolata, c the parsley, garlic and lemon zest togethe . Mix the gremolata with six tablespoons soft butter and spread under the skin of the chicken and in the cavity. Add a few quarters of lemons and bay leaves to the cavity of the chicken and roast at 180 celsius (350 f) for 45-60 minutes , just until the juices run clear.

Serve with roasted potatoes and the lemons scattered around.

We used chicken breasts on the bone w/skin (nine of them to be exact) so didn't have a cavity to fill. Tayta tucked the gremolata under the skin and for a couple of large breasts I made a large slit/slice in the chicken and she put in more gremolata. My family served this with garlic roasted broccoli...(to be continued)

Some Kind of Week

As I enjoyed a too rare moment of quiet and conversation with Dear Husband the other day I realized just what a full week we had experienced, a week full of activities, conclusions, and beginnings. It was enough to take my breath away and more than enough to prompt praise and thanks to God for seeing us through it all. The highlights:

Tayta left on her first international trip sans parents (though with adult friends of our family), traveling to Istanbul where she had been invited to help with childcare for a conference. Caring for babies and small children is a joy to Tayta and she took pleasure in every moment of caring for her young charges. I rejoiced in this opportunity God had given her to serve, doing something that she loves so very much.

Tayta and her little friends

On Friday, Active Son and Artist Son participated in the annual Dead Sea runs, Artist Son running the 10K and Active Son completing his first full marathon--a goal he had set for himself to accomplish before leaving for college. And what better place to run but to the Lowest Point on Earth. We were all up at 4:30am on race morning as the guys plus friends had to meet the race buses which would take them to their race starts. The main road to the finish was closed so friends and I took the scenic route through Madaba, up over the top of Mt. Nebo and down the back side to the Dead Sea.

Artist Son burning up the road with his best 10K run--he'd have run the 21K but for the 17 year old age requirement.

Active Son approaches the finish line of his first marathon

After concluding weeks of training by running a marathon, Active Son next looked forward to a new challenge, making the decision to accept Boise State University Honors College's offer of admission with a full-ride financial package. Becoming confident that he would like to pursue a graduate degree in physical therapy, Active Son thinks Boise State, just 10 minutes away from his grandparents (who have promised to teach him how to ski but were careful not to offer until he made his final decision) will be a fine place to learn and grow.

And as Active Son looks foward to beginning a new season of study, Dear Husband rejoiced that his season of formal study had come to an end yesterday, when he took his last final of his last course in his M.Div. program. This very last course was Eschatology and taught in Arabic (many of his courses were in English)--a doozy of a last course, for sure, especially since he wasn't on the same eschatological page as his professor. Towards the end my wifely encouragements degenerated into admonishments to "grin and bear it" and "just do it! "

I thought a celebration dinner in order, and I still do, but it turns out that the celebration dinner that took place that night was in honor of my birthday with my dear family made the dinner and the dessert. This was especially nice since my family really doesn't cook--unless you count egg sandwiches and grilled hamburgers. Now Tayta of course is a fantastic baker, and her overall kitchen awareness contributed a great deal to the effort. I picked the menu: Lemon Chicken, Garlic Roasted Broccoli, Greek Salad, Artisan Bread, and Apple Pie with a Walnut Crumb Crust. I handed them the recipes for the new-to-us dishes and they did a fantastic job. I'll post the recipes later. Can you guess which child made, or should I say designed, the salad?

Artist Son's Greek Salad, arranged in true Mediterranean style.

This week also saw the much anticipated first blooms of the foxgloves I nurtured from seeds last spring and Artist Son immortalized the best of them in the colored pencil sketch which graced my birthday card.

First Foxglove, by Artist Son

And maybe a little rest this weekend? Maybe, a little. This afternoon, freed from the bondage of Arabic eschatology, Dear Husband and the boys boarded a plan for Cairo with their Amman Little League team where they will enjoy some baseball on real grass fields--an advantage of playing near the Nile. I think Tayta and I will live on leftover apple pie and sandwiches until they return on Sunday night.

Citrus Iris

I brought a couple of these irises indoors so that I could enjoy their beauty as I went about my daily work. Though their coloring reminded me of lemon meringue pie I was surprised to discover that they have a lovely citrus fragrance--though more orangy than lemon.

I was driving in our neighborhood one day a couple years ago and as I passed by a vacant lot I saw one of these beauties growing out a trash heap--someone had dumped their garden trimmings and a bulb has taken root. I sent Active Son to salvage it for me (better a boy digging in a garbage pile) and a few years latter I have a several stems of these irises. I wish I knew their name.

Tayta's Granola Bars

Tayta left on a jet plane today on her first international adventure sans parents--though she did travel with an adult. Newly arrived in Istanbul, Tayta will help care for babies and small children while their parents are conferencing. She may even have a chance to see some of the wonderful sights of this ancient city, but taking care of little children is what really excites her.

All packed up the night before, Tayta offered to make new recipe she found on one the creative blogs she enjoys reading. Knowing that her big brothers would be running a marathon and a a 10K while she is away, she thoughtfully made these wonderful granola bars for them to snack on during the week.

While Tayta followed the linked directions and the basic wet ingredient/dry ingredient proportions, she made enough adjustments that I'll give Tayta's revised recipe below. Tayta's bars didn't cut up as neatly as the ones on Little Birdie Secret's blog but we decided that is because she spread the mixture thinly in a jelly roll pan. Next time she'll use a smaller baking dish. But I must say, even the crumbs are so delicious that we save them in a container and I've been nibbling on them today.

Granola Bars~Tayta's version
2 cups oats
3/4 cup wheat germ
3/4 cup raw sunflower seeds
1 cup chopped nuts (combination of chopped almonds, chopped pecans, and 2-3 T ground flax seed)
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup peanut butter
4 T canola oil
2 tsp vanilla
½ tsp salt
8 oz (2 cups) raisins
1/2-3/4 cup mini chocolate chips

possible additions for next time: sesame seeds, peanuts, chopped dried apricots...

Follow the directions given here. No baking except for toasting the oats/seeds/nuts. Delicious!

Wadi Dana meets the Oregon Coast

Last year I wrote about our annual camping trip in the Wadi Dana Nature Reserve; this year we enjoyed a different kind of camping experience. Think Wadi Dana meets the Oregon Coast. Now, we love the the Oregon Coast, contrast as it is, with it's rugged landscapes emerging through fog, brisk breezes, and overall dampness, to the arid climate of Jordan--but we don't camp at the Oregon Coast.

When we arrived at Wadi Dana last Friday the view from the arrival tower into the gorge was spectacular and we were hopeful of a beautiful weekend. But, within 30 minutes of our arrival ominous clouds rolled in.

They moved in so quickly that I was yet optimistic that they would move quickly through the valley, but it was not to be. By the time we reached camp the drizzle had begun and we were damp even before we got our things into our tent.

One family with four very small children made a quick--and wise--decision to cut and run, heading out of the valley on the shuttle that brought our things down. As the rain began to drip through the tents I thought we'd soon be following, but to my surprise, no one was ready to call it quits. The Bedouin tent of goat hair was still providing some damp, pungent shelter, the sleeping tents weren't leaking too badly, and we did have firewood. As long as the precipitation held at a drizzle we'd be okay?

If you look closely you'll see some flames in the middle of the ring of people. The fire pit was surrounded most of the time. I think my hair may have permanent smoke damage--I've washed it at least four times now and it still smells like smoke.

These smiles aren't forced. Really. I can't believe how many truly happy campers we had on this trip. One mom told me that as she took her young daughter to the bathroom at 4:30 in the cold, damp morning her daughter exclaimed, "Mom, thanks so much for bringing us here--this place is awesome!

And where else in Jordan would you have the chance to play fog ball?

We were looking pretty pitiful a few hours before breaking camp. This is Active Son and our friend carefully tending the hamburgers that were to be our lunch. I was ready to do a cold lunch in the tent but they insisted that grilled hamburgers would be better--they were right.

When you live in a rain deprived country like Jordan you learn to never complain about rain. Rain is baraka, blessing. That blessing of life was evidenced in the lush abundance of wildflowers that were blooming in Dana this year. The drizzle stopped for an hour or so on Saturday morning and I headed out on walk to enjoy the beauty of God's creation and visit some of my flower friends. Even the spent thistles looked beautifully fresh.

Jurinea staehelinae, after blooming

Convolvulus althaeoides

Ferula communis L.

The Giant Fennel staged the most glorious show of all the wildflowers in bloom.

And though I don't think that any of us would want to repeat the weather conditions we experienced this year, we bonded together in an extreme camping experience sort of way. No regrets. We made a memory.

Dead to Red 2010

God is blessing us with triumphs and challenges, often intermingled, at such a rate that I've scarce had time to chronicle them, never mind, the notable recipe or contemplation. And though the 3rd place trophy, won three weeks ago, now has the lightest layer of dust on it, the stiffness of muscles has subsided, and the victory dinner of steak and home-made ice cream has been enjoyed, I couldn't let pass the chance to to celebrate the Dashing Dudes 3rd place (of 26 teams) win in the annual Dead to Red 250K relay marathon. And this year I have pictures!

Though this is the sixth Dead to Red run my guys have participated in, I'd never gone to the race start (1.5 hours from Amman) or taken any race pictures; I usually sent a camera along with repeated pleas for pictures, though somehow in the heat of the race no one ever thought to take pictures. So, knowing that this would be Active Son's last Dead to Read race before leaving for college, I decided to drive down to the race start to cheer the Dashing Dudes and take some pictures.

The Dashing Dudes 2010 Dead to Red Team

Meet the Dashing Dudes:

Active Son, a six time Dead to Red runner, was handed the Team Captain baton by Dear Husband this year; It was Active Son's last year to run the race before heading off to college next year. Setting the pace for his team by training diligently, he encouraged his teammates to stay on track with their own training plans, he held periodic time trials during the training months, and with imput from others he worked to develop a race strategy which set the Dudes on a winning course.

This would be a good time to mention that, once upon a time, Active Son had no desire to run. That is putting it mildly. He would tell you now, as he has told a few college admissions officers per his college admissions essays, that God has used running and this race, through the vision of his father, to discipline and humble him. Active Son is preparing to run his first full marathon next month.

Dear Husband was a dad with a vision. If his mom had years ago written a blog about her family, I'm certain Dear Husband would have been dubbed with the same or similar moniker as Active Son. About eight years ago, Dear Husband chose running as an activity that he and our boys could do together, and by which he could impart to them a means for staying in good physical shape. Not a "natural" runner himself, his goal is to run the Dead to Red with his boys until they graduate from high school. Just two more years to go! He trained extra hard this year in a gallant effort to keep up with the young bucks on the team, remembering nostalgically that he used to be faster than both our boys. His reward: he ran faster legs this year than he ran two years ago!. Great vision, great dad!


Artist Son ran his first Dead to Red race when he was nine years old--at that time, the youngest runner to enter the race--and he has been running ever since. He is the only runner in our family with a natural runner's gait of ease and is a pleasure to watch. He makes it look so easy. Artist Son plans to run his first 21 K (half marathon) next month.







Brendan, another graduating Dude, competed in his fourth Dead to Red this year, having joined the team his first year living in Amman. Maybe, just maybe, he'll be running at the U.S. Coast Guard Academy next year...









Doug thought he was just going along for the ride. Little did he know that joining the Dashing Dudes team four years ago as a driver when his son, Brendan, got involved, would be a life-changing experience. The second year he drove, one of the runners injured himself and Doug ran part of the race. Last year he was a full-fledged member of the team, leading them to a stunning 2nd place in Dear Husband's out-of-town absence. At 50+, Doug has the honor, and I do mean honor, of being the oldest Dashing Dude. He is training to run his first marathon next month.




Andrew also completes his Dashing Dude career with four good runs. Though he doesn't have the the longest legs on the team, I'm sure he has the longest stride--his legs can really reach! And the Dudes are ever grateful to Andrew's dad, Fawzy, for faithfully driving their green van, the official van of the Dashing Dude team, for all four of those years. If I remember correctly, their van shuttled Dashing Dudes to Aqaba even on the year that Andrew and Fawzy were in the States, with someone else doing the driving.





Zack, a two time Dashing Dude, is a valued team member known for his enthusiasm and determination. I observed him run his first 1K, which he began in an all-out sprint. This guy runs like a rabbit. Another graduating senior, Zack heads off to college in Southern California this fall.








Though the Dashing Dude victory was nothing less than a team effort, Jon's contribution, no doubt played a big part in helping the Dashing Dudes to shave nearly 40 minutes off last year's race time. Now teaching elementary school in Amman, Jon ran on Calvin’'s National Championship cross country and track teams in college. Jon started the race for the Dashing Dudes and his 2K leg was the only time during the race that the Dashing Dudes enjoyed first place status. And, though he is a more seasoned runner than any of the other Dudes, I think he would say that he's never run a race quite like the Dead to Red.




Training and perseverance earned Matt a coveted spot on the Dashing Dude team this year. This is his third Dead to Red run; he ran on the Boy Scout team two times, once as their team captain. Noting that the Dashing Dudes will be losing half their members next year, he is already scouting new runners for the team. Rumor has it that Matt put away the most steaks at the Dashing Dudes victory celebration.







This is Jonathan's second Dead to Red run, and his first as a Dashing Dude. I didn't see Jonathan at the end of the race, but at the beginning, at least, he ran through the desert with a really big smile.









This year 26 teams competed in the Dead to Red relay marathon on Thursday afternoon, the first teams finishing around 4 a.m. Friday morning. As you can see from the pictures, the race is run along the highway-which I found out as I drove along the first 15K or so taking pictures, can be dangerous--a mom's point of view.

Map of Jordan~Lonely Planet

Over the years the Dashing Dudes have come to be known as a team with a plan. Race strategy is serious business and this years' race plan was about three pages long. Not to mention the pre-race emails flying back in forth between the teams' top strategists. I'm convinced that it is the Dudes' strategy of running shorter legs that has enabled them to compete with teams which include professional runners, such as the perennial first place Aramex team.

The Dashing Dudes start strong with Jon running the first leg

Active Son flying through the desert

Dear Husband hands off to Artist Son

The Dashing Dudes Chorus Line
stretching out at about 4am in the morning, just outside of Aqaba

The Dashing Dudes just after finishing the race
wearing the mandatory reflective vests. (Active Son wanted me to tell you that they were mandatory)

Congratulations, once again, to the Dashing Dudes. This year they ran the race in 14 hours, 38 minutes and 55 seconds, just six minutes behind the second place team and 20 minutes behind Aramex, the first place team. Not only did they cut about 40 minutes off their previous best rest time, but the also bested the race record which Aramex set in 2009. They currently have the third best race time in the history of the race.

The Sweetheart Special~Recipes from the Valentines Banquet

It is March but I am yet blogging February. Life has been such a wonderful albeit exhausting swirl of youth activity and I'm thankful for it all, for I know the day will come when the house will be too quiet. Love, love, love these teenagers!

Like last year I oversaw a great staff of cooks. We prepared all the food during three afternoon shifts and served it, again sans kitchen, to 50 adults, mostly parents of the youth.

While we busied ourselves in our makeshift kitchen, other costumed youth served the food and provided some very entertaining entertainment. Most notable was a previously filmed Jack Benny spoof with the youth acting to the dubbed in radio program. It was perfect! And, I only had one minor correction for Active Son/Sound Technician: Supertramp was a 70's band, not a 50's band. He had no idea--it just sounded like "old" music to him.


Our menu, based on our 50's theme, wasn't as elaborate as last year's Italian menu but the youth did a great job of preparing the food and we received a few recipe requests from the moms.

The Sweetheart Special

Soft Sliced White Bread
Not-Your-Mom's Coleslaw
with
Peanut Dressing
~~~
Mom's Meatloaf
Twice Baked Potatoes
Sauteed Green Beans
~~~
Mom's Apple Pie
Tea or Coffee

For the salad we combined:

Curly kale (sometimes called Chinese cabbage)
Carrots, coarsely grated
Yellow and red bell peppers, julienned

No specific quantities: I was buying vegetables for 50 so just bought what seemed the right quantity, and thankfully, it was. I'm sure what elicited the recipe requests was the peanut salad dressing, provided by Martha Stewart.com


Super-Simple-And-Delicious-Peanut-Salad-Dressing
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup salted peanuts
2 tablespoons packed light-brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt

Puree 1/2 cup vegetable oil, 1/4 cup cider vinegar, 1/4 cup salted peanuts, 2 tablespoons packed light-brown sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt in a blender until smooth.

The most requested recipe was for Mom's Apple Pie aka The Only Apple Pie Recipe I've Ever Made And I Learned It From Fanny Farmer. I've always thought it to be a basic apple pie recipe--no special ingredients or anything. I'm guessing that the "secret" that people asked me about is in the slicing of the apples--the youth, upon my insistence, sliced them oh so very thin. Overheard in the kitchen from one of the youth: "Cut them thinner or she'll send them back."

"Pidy, Widy, Tidy, Pidy, Nice insidy apple pie!"

Apple Pie with Crumb Topping
6-8 large Granny Smith apples (about 10 cups)
3/4-1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1 1/2 Tbsp flour


Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Peel, core, and thinly slice the apples. Toss them in the sugar/spice/salt mixture, coating them well. Pile them into a prepared pie crust. Top with crumb topping and place in the oven. Bake 10 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 degrees F and bake about 40 minutes longer--or until the apples are tender when pierced with a fork.

Hint: Place pie on a baking/cookie sheet before placing in the oven in case bubbling apple goodness spills over from the pie pan.

Crumb Topping
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup flour
1/4 pound (1/2 cup) butter, chilled

Mix the sugar and flour until blended. Rub the butter into the flour mixture with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse bread crumbs.

The recipe for the pie crust is here.

Fullness

What began in my mind as a birthday post for Oldest daughter--her 20th birthday celebration at the end of January capped a wonderful month of family togetherness--has expanded its borders into something more...full. And while our time together inspired me to write of the fullness of Oldest Daughter's life, the fullness of our family life was juxtaposed with it, as we once again walked together, side by side.

Adding to her Christmas Break from school, Oldest Daughter spent her January/Winter Term with us in Jordan, preparing for and giving a solo concert, fulfilling her Winter Term project requirement.

Though we enjoyed the pleasant strains of violin music this summer when Oldest Daughter was home, January's concert was the first time we enjoyed the fullness of what Oldest Daughter's playing/performing( in some ways, a distinct aspect of playing) had become since her senior recital, performed in May 2008; the maturity and openness of her musical expressions was notable.

Observing the high degree to which the audience, full of long time friends and acquaintances from the community, delighted in Oldest Daughter's performance, I began contemplating the place of music, particularly live music performance, in the life of a community. Most in the audience were not aficionados of classical music, though more than a couple made comments about how Oldest Daughter's music moved them, and " carried them away to another place to enjoy beauty." Fullness of community by sharing music, beauty--beautiful music; I'm still thinking about these things...

Oldest Daughter was able to share some more of this fullness with some our our little friends--they were learning about the orchestra and came over for a special lesson about the violin.

We enjoyed fullness of fellowship and fullness of stomachs as we share some of Oldest Daughter's favorite Arab dishes with family and friends in a celebratory birthday dinner. Featured fare: Koosa Mahshi, zucchini with meat and rice stuffing, and Ma'loubi, an "upside down" dish of fried cauliflower, savory chicken, rice, and toasted almonds.

I delighted in the fullness of my relationship with an "older"daughter, who raised up from infanthood, has become a dear friend, confidante, and close sister in the Lord. God's ways are amazing!


At the end of our month together, and on Oldest Daughter's birthday, we headed just out of town, to a long-time favorite area of the countryside to enjoy each other in the fellowship of the Lord and in his creation.

In a greening field, studded with anemones and limestone we prayed together, rejoicing in the fullness of family that we had enjoyed in Christ the past month; and we prayed for Oldest daughter as she prepared to return to Oberlin, thanking God for the fullness of life that she has and is yet discovering in Jesus as she walks with Him, and asking Him to draw her ever closer to Him even as she travels far from us.

Love Words

Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies, by Marilyn Chandler McEntyre

In the title of her second chapter, Love Words, Marilyn McEntyre employs a lovely paronomasia (or, pun but puns are are generally humorous) . Shortly into the chapter her double meaning is made evident:

"...So our task as stewards of the word begins and ends in love. Loving language means cherishing it for its beauty, precision, power to enhance understanding, power to name, power to heal. And it means using words as instruments of love."

The encouragment to love words and to love by words reminds me of ideas I considered this summer when I read a few excerpts of Plato's Phaedrus via The Art of Assertion:

( Phaedrus 261a) : "Such soul-leading is a liberal power, one which in its finest and fullest manifestation is a form of love: the finest rhetorician not only loves wisdom, but also loves others who do so. The finest rhetor, then, is a friend...The best university is a rhetorical community of friends, and the ultimate purpose of this book is to teach the reader how to live within such a community with words so full of care that they release the light of brilliance." p.13

-and- "The care of words and things--that is, the care of things through the care of words--is a generous, disciplined forum: this human activity is rhetorical throughout, the true influence of friends who have, as Phaedrus puts it at the close of the Phaedrus, 'everything in common' (279c), in particular the shared motion toward the real. pp 13,14

In Praise of Prepositions~
In celebrating particular parts of speech, McEntyre higlights the deep and amazing work of which prepositions are capable, connecting and showing relationship not only between words, but between the objects, persons, and ideas which they name. I have been considering and reflecting on the words from a hymn, taken from an ancient Celtic prayer, "St. Patrick's Breastplate".

Christ be with me, Christ within me.
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

"...prepositions help us, as Henry James put it, to 'understand things in relation,' which he claimed, is the only way they can be rightly understood." p.37

Love words.

Mexican Hot Chocolate

We are snow wimps here in Jordan--light snow flurries were grounds for locals schools to declare a Snow Day. But, since this will likely be one of our coldest days of the year, it is the perfect time to share this new recipe, compliments of my friend, Susan, via another friend, Robyn (thanks!). Susan served it to us last week and we immediately requested the recipe.

Mexican Hot Chocolate

3 cups milk
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon cloves
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon instant coffee
1 teaspoon vanilla

Over low heat, whisk all the ingredients into the milk. My kids like this served with a squirt of whipped cream--of course!

Caring for Words

"Language is the means by which our rationality and our relationality are enabled simultaneously." Ken Myers, creator and host of Mars Hill Audio Journal, captured my attention and inspired my imagination when he made this statement while introducing his conversation with professor, poet, and author, Marilyn Chandler McEntyre. I love Meyers' introductions and often find them as enlightening and thought stimulating as the conversations themselves, however in these case his proposition was but a foreshadowing of a thought provoking dialogue about to begin.

With four teenagers at home (for one more day) we had recently been discussing the twists and turns our use of language has taken over the years, individually, communally, and culturally. (Hmm, I wonder who instigated these discussions...) Thus, the observations made by Meyers and McEntyre served to confirm some of my own reflections and to bring some of my intuitions into the realm of ideas by furnishing them with words.

I quickly ordered McEntyre's new book and after reading one chapter decided that she is an author of whom I would like to read more~she's also written three books of poetry on the art of Vermeer, Rembrandt, and Van Gough and I enjoyed perusing her website.



Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies, by Marilyn Chandler McEntyre

I haven't yet finished this book, so this isn't a proper book review, but rather an ejaculation of enthusiasm for McEntyre's ideas and the gracious and loving way in which she expresses them. The first chapter, Why Worry about Words, elicited copious underlining:

She effectively employs an environmental metaphor in her discussion of language:

"Like any other life-sustaining resource, language can be depleted, polluted, contaminated, eroded, and filled with artificial stimulates. Like any other resource, it needs the protection of those who recognize its value and commit themselves to good stewardship."

"Caring for language is a moral issue. Caring for one another is not entirely separable from caring for words."

"As unable words are lost, experience becomes cruder and less communicable. And with the loss of subtlety, clarity, and reliability of language, we become more vulnerable to crude exercises of power."

On Conversation:
"to converse was to foster community, to commune with, to dwell in a place with others. Conversation was understood to be a life-sustaining practice, a blessing ,and a craft to be cultivated for the common good."

And all this from just the first six pages.

One final quote of a quote, and perhaps this is only back-patting--I always find it encouraging to enunciate a thought or idea only to read it elsewhere in more elegant language by someone much smarter than myself. Dear husband and I were discussing the the relationship between morality and language and I proposed that a deterioration of language portended a deterioration of the understanding of truth, and ultimately, morality: "So our language goes, so go we." Dear husband countered that the opposite was true. Soon after I read this claim by George Orwell, quoted by McEntyre:

"[The English Language] becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible."

It's always nice when we can both be right.