Window Seat

My Maiden Name Is- A Short Story

2012-01-26T10:29:00.000-08:00

A note to the Reader: By publishing these stories on my blog I am sharing a part of me that is very intimate because it is something I created and worked on. I am aware that the quality is not always the best, but short stories are more new for me than poetry. I wrote this one about five years ago and a few others (one that I have published on my blog recently) and I have not written any since. I would like to and I hope putting these out there will spur me on to it. But I hope that they will be enjoyed and that I can start finding my voice again to continue to write more. Thanks.

Emily

My Maiden Name Is
By Emily Chumchal Andrews

About a year ago I went to a small Bed and Breakfast with my husband, Andrew. We went to "get away from it all" and have a nice romantic weekend, just the two of us. The Bed and Breakfast was a blue cottage with white shutters, nestled in among ten weeping willow trees. I counted them. The perfect porch wrapped around the entire house so that wherever you were seated you could enjoy a new part of the clean, country landscape.
When we arrived at the inn, we weren't exactly sure where the check-in was because it was dark, we were late, and a friend had set it all up for us; we only knew how to get there. We found a note for us there in the inn,welcoming us and letting us know where everything was, including where to check-in the next morning. I don't know what it was about that inn, but I think it was made for reflection. I don't know where Mrs. Griffin lives now; we have never gone back there. Maybe she is still working at her Bed and Breakfast and still asking questions that penetrate you like her eyes. Her eyes are soft and wise and brown-green and they help you grow by just looking into them and answering the questions there honestly.
The first time I met Mrs. Griffin she was sitting by her husband, Mr. Griffin. Both of them were rocking in two white rocking chairs, both in perfect cadence. Mr., smoking his pipe and Mrs., busy with her ledger books. They smiled when we came in the next morning, Andrew and I, not in perfect rhythm like them.
"What can we do for you?" She said.
I told her that we were the couple staying in the cottage. We would be here for a week.
"Are you now? What is the name?"
"Griffin" Andrew replied.
"Griffin, why that's my name." She said.
Andrew, politely interested, asked: "Really?"
"Well, I borrowed it from him" Mrs. Griffin nodded toward her rocking chair twin.
I laughed, I liked her: "Oh, yes, I borrowed Griffin from him" and I nodded at Andrew.
Mrs. Griffin leaned in toward me with a twinkle in her brown eyes. "So, then what is your real name?"
Surprisingly, that question didn't catch me off guard at all, I answered as if I expected it. "Navratil."
It seems like such a simple exchange and I guess it was. She said it sure was a different name, my maiden name, and I told her it was Czechoslovakian. I didn't think very much about the conversation the rest of that day.
Andrew and I planned to take it easy the first day that we were there and not try to do any touristy busy things right away. I was glad because work was draining me. In addition, I was taking a few classes at the local community college and trying to be a good wife and daughter. We tried to see both of our families at least three times a month, preferably once a week. We were a young couple, no kids, and so, I guess, we had a lot of time. His parents were especially pushy about us coming over. Christmas was coming up and both families expected us there on Christmas day. Not only that, we are anticipated to go to each of our Grandmother's houses on Christmas day. I started to hate Christmas after I got married, but I went to the parties with a smile on my face anyway.
"Andrew, do you want to play a game of Checkers?" I called out.
"Sure, honey, but what about making it chess instead?"
"Well, I guess so, yeah, chess would be fine...fun. I'll set up the chess board." I started to pull it out from the shelf. Of course, it's at the bottom.
"Okay, I'll be right there, just a minute, I'm checking our e-mail." Andrew announced.
"How are you doing that?"
"Our cell phone has internet options."
"Internet options."
"Yeah, isn't that great?"
I stood by the bed where he was. "It's extra money."
"Hey, it's a vacation we can spend a little extra."
A little extra that we could spend on a nice dinner
"Yeah, it's a vacation and so why are you checking messages? We are supposed to be spending time with each other."
"You took a long bath while I just sat here by myself." He took enough time to look up and glance purposefully at my hair.
"I was relaxing. That is how you relax on a vacation."
"This is how I relax on a vacation."
"Fine."
"Fine. You want to play chess now?"
Was he kidding? My hands curled into tightness.
"What? Are you kidding? I don't feel like playing chess now."
"Why don't you want to play chess anymore? You aren't done pouting? Never mind then, damn it."
Crap! This was such a stupid idea. Now instead of fighting at home we can spend a lot of money and fight 200 miles from home.
I turned my back on him, with my instinct keeping his reaction in sight. He was always so biting. I wasn't a child either. "Why do you have to be so sarcastic with me? Do you think that it's going to make things better? Do you?"
He tossed the cell phone on the bed. "You were sarcastic with me." He said.
"No, I wasn't." I balked.
"Look, I forgive you for getting so angry."
"What? You forgive me? I didn't say I was sorry." I was facing him now, red-hot.
"Well, that's just how the Griffin's are. If you say something sarcastic then don't expect me to just sit back and take it."
"So, you are excused because it's in you blood?"
"I didn't say that. Whatever. I'm sorry." He pulled me close to him. "I still shouldn't have been so sarcastic, you will get used to it though, you're a Griffin now too."
He kissed me on the forehead and everything was supposed to be better. I grabbed my coat and headed outside. A walk had a way of making things better.
His comment made me think about Mrs. Griffin, the innkeeper. She had used the word borrowed for my married name. I know it was just friendly banter, but still. Using the name Griffin was weird for me. Whenever his family said I was 'a Griffin now,' I kind of smiled weakly. I felt like I was betraying the Navratil's when they said that. For twenty-one years I was a Navratil. I would always be one too, I determined. The Navratil's are not sarcastic, we are creative. I decided that the next day I would find Mrs. Griffin and talk with her. It would be nice to have some company and also to avoid another fight with Andrew. I didn't want to fight. I loved him and this was a vacation.
She was in her garden when I found her the next day. As I approached she wiped her hands on her worn gardening pants and and said: "Hello there, how are you and your husband enjoying your stay?"
"Oh, just fine, everything is beautiful here."
"Yes, it is. Mr. Griffin and I love it."
I was afraid that I would not be able to fill the silence that came next, but Mrs. Griffin was comfortable with it and she soon filled it. She was that kind of person, somehow you felt at ease right away and as if you could begin by telling her your whole life's story, starting with all the bad parts.
"You want to sit down here? I think Allen just made some fresh lemonade. I'll go see, Honey, you just stay there."
She came back with two glasses. Sipping leisurely we sat and enjoyed the refreshment. I asked her: "What did you mean when you asked me what my real name was?" I didn't even know if was still on my mind until it was the first thing I said.
"Well, I guess I just wanted to know, that's all. What do you think your real name is?" She replied.
She hadn't really answered my question. "My maiden name is Navratil."
"Navratil. Now where did that name come from?"
"It's Czech."
"Yes, that's right, I remember you mentioned that when you first came. I bet there is a lot of history connected to it." She smiled at me and I continued.
"My grandfather came here to America in the early 1900's. It means to 'come back' or 'return.'"
"You know a lot more about your name than most. My maiden name was Eloise Mullan. 'Mullan' is Irish and means 'bald.'" She laughed and I did too. It felt good to laugh.
"Andrew wonders why I was so eager to take his last name when we were dating and why, now, I like it when people call me by my maiden name."
"Sounds legitimate to me. Why do you feel like that?"
"I don't know." I squirmed. The back of the chair seemed hard all of the sudden.
"There are a lot of unknowns in this life, Love. Maybe you should figure it out."
Mrs. Griffin was right, of course. I felt as if I should have something very intelligent to say about women and equality and individuality, but in the end, I knew that though I believed all those things they didn't pertain to the situation. What was relevant was my relationship with Andrew.
She had spoken truth and it was there for me to take. We sat there for quite awhile,sipping our drinks and watching Mr. Griffin till the garden.
I wanted to know if she missed her maiden name. I wondered why she took his name. What impressed me most about her was that the two of them were so content. I resented the fact that I took my name from Andrew and that he was who I was identified by, not myself. I guess that was mostly it, in truth. I never felt like I was identified by myself, always someone else and, sometimes, I didn't even know who I was. Shouldn't a person know that?
"Don't you resent being identified by Mr. Griffin?"
"I am not identified by Allen, I am identified with him." She stated simply.
"Well" I started "When I receive letters addressed to 'Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Griffin,' I cringe. If I am going to carry his last name, I want, at least, to be distinguished by my own first name and not completely lost in his."
"What is your first name?" She looked at me and I realized I had never mentioned it.
"Cassandra." My name sat like a weight. I looked at her and just sat there for many moments. "Thank you, Eloise." I said. Nothing more was needed.
Andrew and I left after our week there and the Griffin's sat rocking in their chairs just the same as when we met them. That is how we left them.
When Andrew and I arrived at home we had dinner, a disagreement and afterward we picked up that game of Chess we had never played.
The king and queen move in such different ways, but both are essential to the game. You have to capture the king to win, but the queen, she's so strong. I don't underestimate her. Not anymore.

Floating Bookshelves

2012-01-24T10:30:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite rooms in our house is our library.

It is filled with books, cozy, and a reflection of our personality.

I believe strongly in continually learning no matter how old you are and books are just waiting to be read and all their information soaked up.

The owl rug has a whole post dedicated to its creation. http://emilyswindowseat.blogspot.com/2011/07/img1609.html

The walls are wood paneling that are covered with three coats of Kilz and two coats of Behr Silver Dust. I cleaned and covered the couch. Put up a great statement about our family in wood letters that I painted and hung.

But the individual project I am most proud of is the floating bookshelves I made above the couch. I plan on making another row as soon as the novelty of pulling books down wears off for Elijah.

Here is a picture of our library.

Our Library

I can take the credit for the design of our library but not the idea of the floating bookshelves. I found a how-to video after long searching for some cool floating shelves to put above the couch. Although, I felt guilty cutting and gluing books at first, I consoled myself with the idea that these particular books may never have had a home if I had not rescued them. Plus, I am displaying great literature on my wall. I have a copy of each of the books I used for a shelf in my library and have read most all of them.

Here is the video I used to make the shelves:

John and Mary- A Short Story

2012-01-18T15:36:00.000-08:00

John and Mary
By Emily Chumchal Andrews

John and Mary always fought for reasons that seemed different but were actually the same. He would ask her where she was going and she took it to mean 'where had she been'. She would say his mom had called and he would take it to mean she 'called too much'. They fought about who should drive and who drove right. They fought about who was the most tired after work and why that meant the other should wash the dinner dishes.

John was of average height, brown hair, blue eyes. He worked as an engineer behind a desk all day from eight to five o' clock. He had been born to a mother and father both of average height and blue eyes who loved him like a mother and father should. His family always had enough to do things but never to do spectacular things. He made B's in elementary, middle, and high school. In college, the grades were more varied and then he met Mary.

Mary, too, had brown hair, but it was curly. She was conceived in love and born to parents who vowed to protect their young, delicate daughter. Mary was a sweet girl as a baby and stayed so all through elementary, middle, and high school. She did not go to college, but had friends who did and those friends had friends and one of those friends was John.

John and Mary's family and friends are very encouraging people. They encouraged the couple to have a big wedding even when John and Mary had considered a small, romantic ceremony. Both family and friends were also very practical: "Some people may be offended if they aren't invited, unlike us of course!"

When John found a job as a teacher after college his dad encouraged him to find another job. A man should be ashamed who would provide so little for his family. Mary's dad agreed with John's dad. He expected his daughter to be well provided for-she shouldn't need to work.

John and Mary got married. John found his job and has been there ever since; he talks about starting his own business one day. A coffee shop or music store, some business where he is the boss, but he has only talked about it. Mary got pregnant and has been a homemaker ever since, she talks about going to school one day and getting a degree like John has. A Bachelor's degree or perhaps a Master's. All she has done is talk about it as well.

After a year of marriage the couple had supposed was blissful, they found through well-meaning disclosure that they were, apparently, lonely. The families and friends of John and Mary encouraged them to start thinking about a baby. "Wouldn't that be a nice addition?" they would coo. Their encouragement was always in the form of a question, such as: "So, when are we going to hear the pitter-patter of little feet?" and "When are you going to make me a grandpa?" or the most encouraging: "Are you two not able to have children?"

John and Mary finally had two kids and named them Dick and, the youngest, Jane. They decided that it is about time for them to buy a house. All of their friends say it is about time and all of their family has told them that an apartment is too small for a growing boy and girl. John and Mary hope to save enough for a house within a couple of years so that they can be completely happy. Maybe if they have more space they won't fight about little things that seem like big things.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

Why We Need to Fail

2011-12-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

We only see our mistakes and everyone else's final product. That is why we feel like failures sometimes.

I watched the video below on a friend's Facebook page and loved it. I knew I did because it immediately made me want to write. I think our society- although we like to think that we value hard work- just wants instant success. The tendency to avoid failure also seems closely related to how people want rights and not responsibility.

If you do not watch the video, I will summarize for you:

The reasons why you need to fail:

1) Failing is required for learning
You build muscle by doing something a little out of your ability. To learn effectively you must make mistakes and pay attention to those mistakes.

2) Failing keeps you in the growth mindset
This is one of the points that excited me the most. A growth mindset believes that you can achieve something (a new skill, etc) by hard work. On the other hand, a fixed mindset believes people have innate talent and so outcome and ability is based on that. So, someone who has a growth mindset will fail and think: "I need to work harder and I will get better at this." A fixed mindset will fail and think: "I am just not good at this." I plan on making sure to compliment my son by saying things like "You worked really hard on your throwing and look how well you've done!" Instead of: "You are a natural athlete!" I want to compliment his hard work and not his natural talent.

3) Failing reminds you that everything is just an experiment
When you experiment then you try things and discover. If it doesn't work, it was an experiment and not a failure. It doesn't mean that everyone's work is as good as another one's work. It is saying that experimenting can lead to great work because of a great discovery. If we are afraid of failing, then we stay in the same rut creatively, which seems an oxymoron anyway- "Creative" and "stuck in a rut" do not go together.
It reminds me of exercises in my acting class where we discover the meaning of the script by trying it a number of ways and doing odd things with it. Such as doing the play like we are 4 years old or like we are high. It may not work one way but you learn that it doesn't, or you discover something about the script you had not before. My acting teacher has said that actors don't like for people to see them in certain ways, they don't want people to see their ugly side, but we have to be able to display it.
I like to cut up clothes and do new things to them. Sometimes I make a cut and think "whoops." It doesn't turn out like my original thought but it turns into something else that is cool. We are all perfectionist to some extent, we don't like for people to see us fail, but experimenting is a great way to break that paralysis.

I think this is totally exciting! If you know it is not only okay to fail but beneficial, then there is a freedom in that. And there is beauty in freedom.

Ear Assault

2011-12-01T21:48:00.001-08:00

You know what expression I hate?

"Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

I am sure it can be applied to many things, but what do you think of when you hear it?

Pretty insulting all around.

Baytown Spots

2011-11-29T14:50:00.000-08:00

So, I really miss Houston sometimes and when I say that I mean the area I grew up in which was a few minutes from the Heights/Montrose area. Which, if you are not from Houston, is the independent, antiquey, artsy, eclectic, multi-culrtural part of Houston.
I now live in Baytown and struggle with the fact that probably 90 percent of the restaurants and stores are chains and not independent and also that there is not much variety. You can find five Mexican restaurants per block, I am pretty sure.
I also lived in Hitchcock, TX when I was a Camp Director at Camp Good News and it was even worse there. But both places I searched and discovered. So, this post is to let everyone know that I am going to share some of the spots I have found in Baytown, hopefully this will give these spots some recognition and maybe a few people will patronize the restaurants and (other spots) I have found more frequently or for the first time.
I hope more independent, interesting places pop up. As they do, I want to let people know. Someday, I want to open a coffee shop/record/bookstore/place that promotes the arts. Until I do (and I am sure after I do) I am going to share my finds. So, look out readers. I am going to tell you a little more about:

Antiques!
1) Goose Creek Emporium- (219 Defee)
Large store with quite a few booths. Price depends a lot on the booths. But you can find some good things there. The owner is a little rude. Found an antique door for $20 but only because I talked to the booth owner. Otherwise I bought a cute milk jug to hold my sponges and dish soap for $6 and I bought a Fossil Wallet for $5.

2) Jack's- (12 Defee)
Great people, really cute set-up, you can find some good things there, sometimes it can be expensive but you can bargain and there are definitely good finds price wise. Even if you don't find something you can afford they have the most things to wish for and the best aesthetic. I bought two end tables for $15 each. And really it was less because they didn't charge me tax since $30 was all I had.

3) Vera's- (N. Main between James and Sterling)
Vera loves to talk, the outside of her shop is really cute and she has some great things there. Pricing is here and there. You can bargain with her, just be prepared to talk. Don't look for records there though, they aren't in good shape. Bought 2 Gold bird wall decorations for $10 total.

4) Goose Creek Antiques- (Texas Avenue)
This is half antique store, half junk store, billed as antique store. The junk is in piles and some things are way overpriced and some things are a find, though I haven't bought anything yet. The antique half is overpriced.

Eats!
1) Shamiana-
Meditteranean and Indian, nice people and helpful but slow because it is family run. Food is YUM!

2) Rooster's -
Barbeque and all American, good food, but not excellent, good service. But this is off one visit.

3) The Red Fox-
Upscale, Coastal Cuisine, service not professional, but nice people, food YUM!

4) 777-
Carribean, will update when I have gone

5) Trattoria Italia-
Italian, been once service was great, food was nice, not awesome

6) The Mustard Seed Tea Room-
Tea Room food, will update when I have gone

7) Victoria's Bakery-
Haven't gone, but have not heard good reviews

8) Sake-
Sushi, would much rather go to Houston but they have a good selection

Beats!
1) Revolution Records-
Disappointingly, this shop also sells adult paraphernalia and videos making it not appropriate for all ages and making it really awkward for me and for other females who feel like I do. Also, the records are overpriced and the selection is dissapointing, BUT Baytown does have a record store.

Treats!
1) Mary's Cake and Cookies-
Not been yet

Reads!
1) The Book Barn-
Our only bookstore. Cute outside and in. The Romance section takes up too large a portion of the store in my opinion but otherwise, good selection, okay prices.

Drinks!
1) The Dirty Bay Beer Company-
Not been, will update later. But really classy outside and from what I have seen from the road, really pretty inside.

Thrift
1) The Cookie Jar-
benefits the Women's Pregnancy Resource Center. Good stuff, organized, good cause, good prices.

2) Goodwill-
Not independent, but the only non-independent one. Overpriced clothes. Decent priced housewares, shoes, belts, etc.

3) Jaycie's-
A really good place to look for baby stuff. Their stuff is in good shape and well-priced.

4) Simply Rare
Nice little store

5) Two unnamed thrift stores-
These are located on N. Pruett and Williams St. The one closest to Williams's street (and Hall's Carpet Haus) has good prices. It is cramped and stuff isn't super organized, but the husband and wife owner are really nice. They don't speak English really well, but they are sweet. I found a trunk that is also a bench for $15.
The second one farther down, it is more like a junk store because things are all thrown together. You can find good things, however, nothing is priced and if you ask the lady who owns it what the price is, it is always unreasonable. I have never bought anything there beside a DVD which she has a good selection of and sells for less than pawn shops. I also have reason to suspect that she bases price on your race.

Consignment
1) Karen's Closet-
Mostly women's clothes, good prices, good finds

2) Tadpoles-
Kid's stuff, overpriced in my mind but the shoes seem like a good price and some of the toys.

3) The Clothes Tique-
Just men's stuff. Like that unique spin. Looked like a lot of stuff for plant workers. The stuff was in good shape, but when I asked about a Dilbert tie she wanted $17. I thought that was a lot for a used tie.

Here and There
1) Health Food Store on Baker-
Good selection, good prices.

2) Health Food Store on N. Pruett and Park St.-
Small but friendly, helpful staff

3) Hall's Carpet Haus-
Quality work. They have installed vinyl in our Kitchen and bathroom, and refinished our wood floors.

Thanks

2011-11-24T06:49:00.001-08:00

I am thankful for my parents who:

Didn't let us watch much TV and so we used our imaginations
Bought our clothes from thrift stores because we learned to find great things in unexpected places
Had dinner with us every night because we learned to be polite and we learned to eat healthy

I am thankful for my mom:

Who read books and taught me to read
Who didn't tell us what words meant but told us to stop and consider if we could figure it out. And then to look it up in the dictionary. I have an excellent vocabulary because I learned to be curious about word meanings and look them up myself.
Who danced in the kitchen because now I know for sure kids love it when you do that.
Who wrote down everyone's birthday and remembered people's birthday because it taught me remembering a fact like that about people makes them feel special.
Who created a "costume" bin for us out of things she found because it was fun! And I learned to direct and to create and it fostered my acting bug.

I am thankful for my dad:

Who let us play his drums (until 10PM) because I can play the drums now and I learned to respect neighbors nighttime.
Who took hours picking out a card for birthdays or drew one himself because I can still read over the one's he gave me and I learned that making cards for people makes the cards that more special.
Who talked like Donald Duck and Foghorn Leghorn because we laughed and laughing is good. And I practiced imitation as well.
Who played Dodgeball and Baseball outside with us because my athleticism was nurtured and he taught us to have fun outside. Also, it confirmed that girls could have fun in this way too.
Who played Hide and Seek, Checkers, Armwrestling, and the Get-Away-Game with us inside because I had a dad who played with us and taught us we could have fun inside beside video games... and because I learned that you could make up games!

I am thankful for my siblings:

Joseph

Always made ridiculously detailed Lego structures.
Made contraptions out of things in his room.
Told me I look cute with braces (if my parents said it...they have to! But your brother? Maybe I do!)
Let me dress him up, do his hair, and take pictures of him. I'm a hairstylist now.
Told me not to worry about what people say
Made fun of my Feminist streak (so now it is even stronger)
Asked my advice about stuff
Generally went along with my schemes. Such as a having a karate match, being whatever part I cast him in our plays, filling our plastic pool with freshly mowed grass and swimming in it, Pinecone wars (with trash can shields), etc.

Noah

Did some amazingly accurate voice imitations
He also let me dress him up and take pictures
And he would comb my hair although he got a comb stuck in it "curling" my hair
Let me dye his hair
Was my personal GPS even at 10-that boy has sense of direction.
Made us laugh.
Rode bikes with me from our house to Downtown Houston. That was an adventure.
Saved me from a Mosh Pit that I had gotten us into. "Noah, let me show you how to get all the way to the front of a concert" which I succeeded in, but I had never been to a POD concert before.

Camille

Always asking questions... and I shared a room with her
So generous that it affected me in positive ways
Loved for me to sing her to sleep. It made me feel special that she wanted me to.
Likes hanging out with me
She thought I was cool: "Let's ride in car, roll the windows down, and listen to music real loud."
Creative in thinking of ways of having fun
Is that girl that everybody knows and who's phrases turn into catchphrases, but she's the nice version.
Always looks cute and can put together outfits in an instant that would take me half an hour.
Is wise beyond her years.

We all played outside together, made puppet shows together, rollerskated in the house together, played in the flooded streets together, rode bikes, took walks, made a backyard circus together. So many things. And now, my sibling are all still interesting to me. I am thankful I have an interesting family.

I am thankful for my husband, Bobby:

That we met serving kids outside in the great outdoors.
That he watches our son so I can go out (a husband should do this, but many don't)
That he doesn't think I am made only to be home. He is coaching basketball but is making sure that I can still take my acting class, even if Elijah has to go to a game.
Thinks about my family (helps my dad with computer stuff, he took my mom out to lunch before, is interested in my siblings ventures).
Wants me to be at his basketball games
Still gets mad at me, which means he cares what I think.
Likes music and searching for it, so I don't have to. I love awesome music but not searching for it. I like to happen upon it.
Swing dances with me and dances at weddings with me (even though it may require a drink to get him through it.)

My, son, Elijah:

His laughHis dimple
That he looks like me
That he hugs me
That he wants to be with me
Watching him be creative with toys
And without toys.
That he says "Hi" to everyone and loves people
That he smiles at strangers who need it
That he sings in the grocery store, and the car, and in bed in the morning before I get him.
That he is silly and loves to laugh.

My best Pal, Nat:

For being one of the most thoughtful people I know. When she comes over she washes her dishes, when she has spent the night she folds her bedding! She helps in a way where you don't even know what is going on and it is done.
For being adventurous
For going along with my schemes
For appreciating the art I do
For pointing out beauty
For loving life
That she doesn't care about age!
Painting together, making food together, gardening, kicking a ball around, open mic nights, concerts, jumping in Barton Springs, making silly videos, watching "Dude, Where's My Car?" together, washing her car, having a garage sale, starting our Etsy shop. So, much more. I am thankful for Nat.

I am thankful for acting classes, so freeing
Mixed Martial Arts classes, aggression feels good
Painting
Beautiful weather
Creating, imagination
Music, how many sounds can humans come up with to express themselves. So beautiful.
The written word, I love Smithing and reading the written word.
My camera, it captures moments and tells stories.
Canoeing, it is like hiking on the water.
Hiking
Camping, my favorite part is making fire and waking up to the sounds the woods make.Trees, majestic.
Laughing.
Food.
Dancing, dancing, dancing. It is like laughing and art married.
God who created it all. Amen

I was thinking

2011-11-04T15:10:00.000-07:00

Just a ponderance:

Saying something over and over in a fight is like when people try to speak louder in English when someone who speaks a different language doesn't understand them. It is just annoying and they don't understand, but, on the other hand, you just really want them to understand you. You feel like what you are saying is important.

There are so many different smiles. Isn't that weird?

I'm not sure about you

I have to

I've been posing for this picture a long time

I just want you to see my dimples

That was funny but I know I am not supposed to be laughing

We are cohorts, what's next?

I'm pleased

I'm embarrassed

I'm embarrassed and pleased at the same time

Yes, I just said something funny

Do you get it?

Just a few. I had written more, but then I cut it to this point because it almost sounded like a poem.

Etsy Store

2011-10-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

My friend, Natalie, and I are soon opening a new Etsy store and we have yet to come up with a name for it, but below is a sample of the items that will be available.

"Dirt is your friend." I think more than the words "adventure, confidence, strength" this embodies something I wish little girls were given to ponder and something I wish was demonstrated for them.

The dresses, dolls, and bibs are from recycled t-shirts because we want everything about the store to embody our values and envision them being passed down through the what we make. Resourcefulness, loving the earth God has given us, and enjoying sunshine, rain, words, music, the strength, wonder and beauty of our bodies. Enjoying food and laughing and dancing. Adventure, confidence, strength, getting messy. Hopefully, little girls will be encouraged in this way and one day they will grow up to be interesting, confident women.

If anyone has an idea for a name, leave it here. We will let you know when our store is open!

Cheers!

Broken Record

2011-10-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

A broken record

You play me

And I say the same thing.

And I just want to be fixed

I want to be smooth

I want to make you dance

I want to make you dance.

Don't ignore me

So many distractions

Can't you fix me

Fix me

Fix me?

I want you to understand

The song I sing

But I am garbled

I repeat myself

I just want you to hear

I just want you-

Emily Chumchal Andrews

See and I Have to Name This Post

2011-10-06T10:29:00.000-07:00

Do you sweat over titling your photo albums online? I love naming things and so if I can't find the perfect thing to say I don't want to publish it. I have, but I don't like it. I have also started using Spotify and you name different playlists. I named one that I didn't make public called: "Songs I Should Be Ashamed To Be Listening To." Let's just say the album inlcudes "Whip My Hair" by Willow Smith and that is the only freebie you are getting today. I have enjoyed naming things since I was young, one of my favorite parts about imaginary play was making up a name for myself. When writing a story, the sound and meaning of the name had to fit the character perfectly. I loved Anne Shirley because she loved naming things. She called a road that she traveled frequently "The White Way of Delight." If you don't know who the fictional literary character Anne Shirley is, then shame on you or whoever never introduced you to her!

Are you ever interested in a person you never met? Or have never seen? What I mean by this is that I walk by some people's houses and they seem to be bursting with character. I wonder who lives inside them. I want to meet them. I have considered knocking on their door with that sole purpose, just to meet them. I have also seen people and the way they dress, their eyes seem to tell me that they have a lot to add to this world and I want to talk to them and let them add to me. If they are beside me, sometimes I will talk to them, but mostly they just are in passing and I know they have so many stories. Sometimes I feel sad for people and I don't know why. I imagine what must be going on, mostly they are people I see while driving or riding in a car, so there is no way to gift them with a smile or word.

Speaking of that, I like to be left alone when I am angry, even when I am sad. I don't want happiness around me, I don't want sympathy. In fact sometimes I think I want people to be mean to me then. I like to exercise when I am angry or sad. I don't mean that it is easy to start but I mean that I like the result. I am inevitably more clearheaded and mature by the end. I wear myself out doing something useful instead of expending my energy on words or actions that will get me nowhere.

People are interesting creatures. I wish that interesting ones felt more free to express themselves in words. But maybe that is why they are interesting, they know when to speak. No, NO. They should speak sometimes and don't get a chance. It is generally the uninteresting that are the loudest. I don't mean expressive, I just mean the ones who feel they can say whatever they please and it is never edifying, it is never constructive, or smart. It is only loud and frequent.

Musings

2011-10-05T15:17:00.000-07:00

When making a speech, do not begin stories with lines like "I was ironing my shirt this morning and..." because then the only thing people will be paying attention to is how many wrinkles you have in your shirt and the only thing they will be pondering is whether you are good at ironing or not.

In a play you have to remember that what the audience is seeing are the most joyous or the most heartbreaking moments in a person's life. It doesn't matter if the person is doing something as mundane as eating cereal in a scene, eventually their heart will be full or broken.

In a play, and often in life, the only things worth fighting for are love and recognition. When you are acting you must have an end goal as a character and you must be fighting for something and it will be, in one form or another, for love or recognition. This is so interesting.

Map out a character's goal and actions and then throw it away and only know your goal. That is what we do in life. We only know our goal, perhaps we map out a few actions but Life doesn't usually follow the script we would like. You change your actions to meet your goal. The same with acting, just listen and respond after you have examined your goal.

In a scene we see some of life's most beautiful moments and we are witness to it. But life's most glorious moments usually only happen between one or two people. That is truly wonderful. And only glorious moments happen in real life.

It seems to me that we must all know all feelings. Although we have not experienced all of life's setbacks or joys, we have the ability to know and rejoice or cry with the characters. We, perhaps, cannot know it fully, only dimly, but we know it.

Cold Reading

2011-09-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

A cold reading is when someone auditioning reads from a script with no prior preparation. As you can imagine, this is likely to be a nerve wracking experience, One in which you could possibly be so nervous about not studying the script beforehand that you don't do as well as you know you are capable of. I am taking a Cold Reading acting class.

I have only been to one session out of four so far but I experienced the nerves which I imagine an actor feels when giving a cold read. I did not do well this past session and that is an honest assessment of myself. I don't want to feel like I did well when I did not. I know that I am not at the same level as anyone in this particular class because I am just beginning. I don't want to say I did well, but I do want to keep my confidence up by remembering that I am a beginner and that it is okay not to be as good. I think I was nervous mostly because I didn't want to feel in the way of progress, as if I did not deserve to be there as much as everyone else. My extreme desire to do well led to extreme nerves which I could not calm enough to think clearly.

My goal is to get over these nerves by preparation and so I gave myself an assignment for this week. I am writing down actions and then writing down physical actions that go along with them. I will tell you why. In class we were taught that an actor should act with actions and not emotions. Certain emotions go with action. Therefore, you will act more honestly if you decide on an action or goal that the character is trying to achieve rather than an emotion they are trying to portray. You don't want to be "angry" which is an emotion, you want to be "ignoring" which is an action. You will then turn your back or do whatever comes naturally when you are ignoring. It will be more dynamic because you can only go so far with "angry." There are so many things that "angry" can be a result of or result in. We also learned that if you pick an action for the end of a script (monologues are what we are concentrating on and I find those very hard) then your action at the beginning should be as far as possible from the end action. So, if you are ignoring in the end, you should have started out listening.

One of the most interesting things I was made to think about was that you should look at the words for clues (because the words never lie) but that the words can be made to coincide with your action. Basically, words can mean almost anything when said a certain way in a certain context. I love playing with words so I have thought about word and context and word and emphasis a lot, but not related it to word and action and context before. Here is an example of interpreting an action and it changing the meaning of a phrase.:

Phrase:

"Oh yeah"

Actions:

Reminiscing (said softly, your hand on your cheek).

Remembering (said with a high note at the end, snapping your fingers)

Climaxing (well, I won't describe it)

Distancing (said monotone, lifting your chin)

Ignoring (said Staccato, with your back turned)

Agreeing (said drawn out, with your eyes wide open)

I have been trying to really concentrate on what goes along with actions. What do people do when they are trying to achieve a short-term goal? What emotions are they displaying? What physical actions are they doing? When you aren't in the moment, it can be hard to think of. That is what happened to me in my acting class. I was overwhelmed with information and desire and I could barely get "breathe deep" out of my head to pick an action, to analyze my script and then perform it (and we were given 15 minutes in which I used part of to go to the bathroom). Also, I was mainly trying to concentrate on "pulling words" from the script which is what we had been practicing and which I had improved on. So, examining the script in a limited time threw me. Hopefully these exercises will help. I just find it fascinating though and that is why I want to do this. It is all so fascinating to me.

So, different instances in my life led to me not being able to pursue it until now, but I have loved it ever since I was the fourth commandment in my Children's Choir production of "Angels Aware", it grew as I was on my Youth Drama Team, and as I had my first experience with the mechanics and tactics in a semester of college-Acting 1310- I realized it was still there. Now I am acting on it!

Austin City Limits

2011-09-20T20:35:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I went to Austin City Limits music festival. My mother-in-law bought tickets for my husband and I to go. I have never gone before, but it has been a yearly tradition of my husband and brother-in-law. My husband even went when our son was born three weeks prior to the festival. My only goal was to not intrude on their fun. I had an inkling that in this area I am not as cool as they are. But I wanted to try out the festival.

I didn't really examine my intentions. I think I wanted to get away, I wanted adventure, I wanted to see somebody I knew or meet a stranger. These were all reasons I went. It's funny, really, because I avoid going to concerts often. Mostly because the act I want to see comes on about the time I am ready to go to bed. But I wouldn't feel so tired if the venue wasn't dimly lit (which it usually is), if I didn't have to stay in one room (you usually do), if I didn't have to stand in a crowd for hours, or sit in a crowd for hours. I like to be moving around and I like space.

I overheard a guy at ACL this weekend saying to his friend "she doesn't like music and she doesn't like people so I don't know why she came (to ACL)." I love music. I love people. But loving people doesn't mean you enjoy watching Coldplay with a ponytail swishing in the front of your face and a backpack smacking the side of your face. It doesn't mean that you enjoy some random girl who is upset at her friends pushing you deliberately to get out some of her aggression. Okay, it was kind of funny. Liking music doesn't mean that you want to stand in sweat and rain and use port- a- potties. Liking music doesn't mean you want to stay all day. So, I think there are music people and then there are music festival people.

We went to a concert after the festival and I got to stand on the upper floor right by the railing. I could see! I wasn't tired when they came on! I wasn't hungry! I enjoyed it. It was Ty Seagall and his drummer was female and named Emily. I really enjoyed myself. My guidelines for perfect concert going don't line up with the realities of concerts and festivals though. My opinion is that everyone should spread out and then everyone can see. And if everyone gave enough space for people to twirl and dance then I would be at festivals all the time. Music + outside + dancing without abandon = exhilaration. I think I wanted to love the festival like my BIL and husband. they get tickets as soon as they can, they check the website everyday to see the lineup. They map out who they are going to see and what stage they will need to be at when. They get there when it starts and they stay until the closing act. They go for all three days. That isn't me. What is so funny about that is that I am a planner. But at something like this, I want to chill. I want to lie in the grass, throw a frisbee, go to a couple of shows, have room and dance and sing and not worry about who plays when or have the other people with me do so. But I was a guest and besides, like I said, festivals don't follow my criteria.

I do want to share some of the wonderful moments I did have this weekend though because there certainly were plenty to make it worthwhile. Here they are:

We sat at the stage where Asleep at the Wheel was playing. Everyone was sitting so the stage was visible and there was enough space in between people to lay on your back or spread out your legs. The wind was blowing and the sun was not scorching. As the band tuned up for their second song Bobby asked me to dance. We danced barefoot in the grass. I don't know if it was the magic of the festival but he wasn't self-conscious and he was the one to ask me to dance. Twice. My heart sang. This moment alone made it worth it.
We were in more of a crowd and the sun was hot enough to make sweat run down our backs but every once in awhile there would be a reprieve. Bobby held me in his arms from behind while we stood and listened to one of his favorite bands. It felt like when we first started dating.
I went off by myself and looked at the art section of the festival and picked someone I felt like listening too and did so (Wanda Jackson), then I sat down and met two guys who I talked to for awhile. They wondered what I was writing in my notebook and although, at first I was writing lists, I began to write thoughts. One of the things I was pondering was which guy at the festival was my dad in the 70's. They looked with me after I described what I knew about me dad at that time in his life.
After they went off, I made a sand alligator eating a sand turtle.
I went outside the festival and walked down the road to Yum Yum Yogurt, taking the free sample offered on the street although I had already decided to go there. After I tried the Tart flavor and the Vanilla. I decided to get a little bit of both and mix in Snickers. I sat down at a table right by the window which looked out on the sidewalk. There was a constant stream of people walking back from the festival and I as I sat at the table I just began writing down any thought that popped into my head. I enjoyed seeing my thought on paper and I realized it was a great writing exercise. It wasn't the exercise where you write and write and don't set down your pen no matter what you are writing and it wasn't sitting there trying to think of subjects. It was an organic brainstorming. After I was done, I walked back against the steady flow of festival goers to the bikes where I said I would wait for the rest of my crew.
Riding bikes to and from the festival. Riding a bike is exhilarating.
Eating at Takoba in Austin. Go there if you are in Austin. The food was amazing. It wasn't good or delicious, it was amazing. We went with Danny (my BIL) and his girlfriend (who is also my friend) Lauren. Beside the food being amazing, I felt young again. We didn't have Elijah, we didn't have a certain time we needed to be back (my MIL had him for the whole weekend), we ordered a carafe of mimosa (two, actually!) and drank if all between the four of us. The restaurant was super loud and we had to yell to be heard. We just chilled and drank and ate. I loved it. It has been so long.
The first strains of "Yellow" being played live by Colplay and the crowd roaring with enthusiasm. It was a true psychological experience the whole crowd mentality. It was synergy and I was caught up in its influence.

It was a fun weekend. I felt younger. I am not old, but I am at another time in my life where this kind of experience is not so readily available. For example, as I type this my son is throwing a tennis ball and yelling "baaaaallll!!!", now pushing his feet into my side, now falling into my lap, and, finally, in a last attempt, sitting on the keyboard I am typing with, while I still endeavor to type. It was a sweet fantasy that I enjoyed for a weekend.

Ponderance of Today

2011-08-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

Strong language is like a Hallmark card. It can be cliche and should only be used to convey an intense feeling that you could not otherwise express accurately.

Explanation of "Pause"

2011-08-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

My last blog was a poem entitled "Pause" and the idea came out of a class that I audited recently. I thought I would share a little bit about it because it is something that I fancy.

The class I audited was an acting class taught by Kim Tobin that I hope to be taking the next time a session opens up. One of the statements she made after she had observed a monologue had to do with pausing and how important it was in acting. She observed that the actor should take some time to pause during an angry moment she had created. She said that sometimes we, as actors, are afraid to pause because we might lose the emotion we had built up, but that in a real life situation we would pause.
I thought about it as I sat there and while it is true that you would pause if you were yelling at someone, I also find it true that you might NOT want to pause sometimes and it is because, as Kim observed you do not want to lose the emotion, that momentum. You want to stay mad. Sometimes the reason you may not want to pause is that you do not want to lose your lack of emotion or the wall you have created. If you were to pause for too long then there are many things that could invade.
So, that simple statement was something I pondered for awhile. Acting has a lot of relevance to every day life. If you are a good actor you are recreating real emotion in a moment-you aren't putting on an act. I took an acting class in college and I remember people saying that it must be an easy class because all you have to do is memorize lines and say it with feeling. That comment was wrong in a couple of different ways. One, it wasn't easy (except I enjoyed every minute of it) and, two, you are recreating and listening and observing. It is about where the character came from, is going, what they love, what they hate, who they are talking to, what they are talking about, what they are REALLY talking about. It is about making strong choices before you begin and in the moment, it is about listening and observation. So much more.
We have to get past many social mores and many hangups to get to the point where we can have no wall when we are acting. We have to be able to listen and observe and react accordingly.
Shakespeare said that all the world is a stage and in some ways it is. Oscar Wilde said “The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast.” I think that is an interesting statement as well.

Pause

2011-08-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

I have sat at this desk a few time in the past week and not been able to write anything. I decided to just begin writing and see what came and that I must post whether it is as perfect as I would like to be or not. It is not. So, I will probably come back and refine this. Maybe not. But here is this week's post.

Pause

We are afraid to pause
To lose our momentum
Our emotion
Our meaning
If we pause
We may discover-
And that is frightening.
We may betray ourselves
And that is appalling.
We might observe
And we would rather remain
Blind.
Pausing is vulnerable
It allows others to speak
To observe
To step onto the stage
And change a reaction
A thought
You.
-Emily Chumchal Andrews

Fashism

2011-08-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

Before you comment on my misspelling of the political ideology "Fascism" let me assure you that this blog post is not dedicated to discussing that radical form of government. Instead, this post is about a new website I found called Fashism.com Interesting choice of a name, though, if you do consider the dictates and power of fashion and compare it to the ideas of Fascism.

Anyway! This site is interesting; it taps into the whole narcissistic side of people- which is a side I think we all have. The original intention of the site was also a good one but I am not sure, after my experience, that it reaches its goal. Which as stated on Fashism.com is "...not to punish you for dressing poorly, but to make you dress better." The problem is that you have to have a bunch of people who have good taste and who mean well for it to really work. Let me tell you about the site, the creator's intention, and then I will tell you about my experience with the site.

Fashism is a site where you can go to upload pictures of different outfits that you are thinking of wearing and ask other people's opinion about it. You post the picture and then title it with a question. For example: "What necklace should I wear with this?" or "Does this outfit look good for a concert?" or "Should I buy this dress?" You can even post two or three looks side by side and ask people to rate which one looks better. Kind of makes you feel like a celebrity, "Who wore it better?" After you have uploaded your picture and your question, other people who have a Fashism.com account can look at your photo, click on "Love it" or "Hate it" and then make a comment. The comments are supposed to be helpful. For example "I would wear a white belt with that instead of a brown one" or "Maybe tuck the shirt in" or "Lose the jacket and it would look much better." Next to the photo you have uploaded there is a black circle that shows the percentage of people who "loved it" and below the photo are all the comments or suggestions.

The creator of the site is Brooke Moreland, who said she had the idea for it "after walking out of the dressing room looking for her husband’s opinion and found an empty couch." She figured there must be some way to use the internet to solve this problem. The site even has guidelines for users. "Comment Guidelines: Please only constructive comments. You don’t have to like everything, but the goal here is to help people look their very best, not to make fun of poor sartorial choices. Again, no hateful or obscene speech will be tolerated. We reserve the right to revoke your site privileges if you engage in such behavior."

I have to say that when I found out about the site and started looking through it, I found it addictive. I skimmed the different looks that had been posted recently (the twelve most recent uploads are displayed at the top of the page) and glanced at some of the comments that were left. I decided that I would sign up for an account and have some fun with it. I found out as soon as I uploaded my first look how addictive this could be. I had to stop myself from constantly refreshing to see what my new rating was. I was also sort of testing out the site. The first picture I posted was a cute outfit (and I know it is) except that the mittens I was wearing were not. They weren't bad, but they weren't fashionable. I asked "Different mittens next year?" People were fairly helpful, except the first guy who said "You'll have to cause those need to be burned! Not a good look." He did not leave any sort of edifying comment. Everyone else suggested what I could do instead. That was the main reason I posted what I did because I wanted to check out how people responded.

Next I uploaded a picture of my face and asked them "What do you think of the makeup and hair?" I purposely picked a picture that I know has a good look. Before I relied on this site too heavily for fashion advice, I needed to finish this experiment. This picture had only a 47 percent rating of people loving it. However, the comments were disparate with the rating. My 47 percent rating had comments like this: "I think your make-up and hair are stunning! Your look has a very fresh, vintage feel to it. Make-up close to your natural skin tone is the way to go:D" and "I find it classic and beautiful. Perfect example of makeup that enhances beauty rather than beautiful makeup." and "Very cute! You look fresh and natural." The only suggestion was that I should perhaps put on a little more mascara. I found it odd that the rating and comments were so disparate. If they hated it so much, why didn't anyone help me out? That is what the site is supposed to be for.

In the end, for me, I don’t think it will help much when it comes to picking out my outfits, but I do find it a rather fascinating social experiment. For example, I have noticed that “Love it” percentages are higher when the person posts a picture of a model wearing an outfit rather than themselves. Of course, there could be variables. Is the model just inevitably going to make the outfit look better? Is it because someone in the fashion industry dressed the model up? Or is it just because we gravitate to the beauty of the person and picture and it skews the view of the outfit? Does it make us less truthful or more truthful? Do pictures of an ugly person get rated better than pictures of a pretty person? We are supposed to be looking at the clothes and how they suit that person. I think I will try a few more experiments and one of them will be to actually ask about an outfit I am trying to decide on. Maybe that will change my view. But I wonder how many people are actually trying to make a fashion choice and how many want affirmation that they are, indeed, a pretty person? Facebook is mainly your friends, Hot or Not is for people desperate for dates anyway (almost everyone is at least a “9”), maybe Fashism is confirmation that you are pretty or ugly or plain. Or maybe people just want fashion advice.

NOTE: One thing I must add, though, they do have a blog where special fashion experts will examine looks you post and comment on them via a live webcast. That's pretty cool and they supply comments that really help out. Haven't done it yet myself, but I intend to.

I Like

2011-08-01T19:48:00.001-07:00

I like high fives. I want to give and receive some.

I like jumping around like a fool.

I like dancing anywhere...like a fool. I want to go dancing.

I like singing. It calms me when I am scared. It gives me a thrill when I am happy. I want to karaoke.

I like learning new things.

I like smashing things, but there are not many things to smash. At least that will not cost me a bit.

I like acting or performing in general, it gives me a feeling of being somewhere else and I can be anyone and I forget everything. I love it. It has been a long time since I have done it.

Look At The Stars

2011-07-31T22:25:00.000-07:00

My life runs into different shades of
The same color
No distinction
I look at the stars
And their glory
And my own muted colors
Against them
And I sigh
To be up there
Gazed at
Admired
Studied
Each human
Desires public adoration
Importance.
Chests heave deep sighs
Reverberating throughout the world
In response to life.
But where would the stars be
If no one to admire them?

The Owl Rug

2011-07-27T17:55:00.001-07:00

One of the biggest challenges for me in both decorating and fashion is that I always have a specific idea before I began looking for something. If it is fashion, I have an idea of the outfit in my head and shopping is just searching for that outfit. Usually I don't find what I am looking for.
When it comes to decorating I usually see the room in my head. The problem, again, is finding all those things that are in my head because I have never seen them before (except for in my head).
So, I try to make what I can. I have a very specific idea for the room we use as the library in our house. One part of that idea was a very specific rug and it was not something I thought I could make on my own. I searched the internet and stores for the rug I wanted. The picture I had in my head was an owl sitting in a tree reading a book. I found owl rugs and sometimes owls in trees but never owls with books in trees.
I began typing "custom rugs" and "design your own rug" into Google. I found that "custom" and "design your own" just meant picking out the shape, size, and color of the rugs. One other website that appeared was for businesses looking to put their logo on a rug. They didn't have any information about what was required to prove you were a business, they just had a place to e-mail your logo.
I decided to enlist my brother, Joseph, to help me create a digital piece of art to send them. My job was to translate to Joseph what was in my head so that he could draw it. After we created it, I sent it to the company as my "logo", they translated it to the colors that they had available and then they quoted me a price. They never asked me to prove I was a business and they only required you to buy one rug. So below is the picture of my truly custom rug. Also, below I included a link to my brother Joseph's website. I enlisted him for a reason. He has designed quite a few shirts for camps and missions trips, etc. But the website below is for his handcrafted jewelry. Check it out!

http://www.etsy.com/shop/JosephChumchal

The Owl Rug

IMG_1609, a photo by EmilyWindowSeat on Flickr.

Headboard

2011-07-23T13:03:00.000-07:00

I found this door at an antique store. I scored it by talking to the owner of the booth and telling her about my project. She was using it to display other items so it had a lot of nails in it but I got it for the price I had set in my head ($20).

The door had a lot of nails in it and the hinges were a bad sort of rusty so I had to pry the nails out and unscrew the hinges. Then I took care to putty all the holes. Then I sanded it with an orbital sander and by hand.

The next step before was to cut the door to make it symmetrical.

Then I sanded it with a finer grit before painting it. For some reason I don't have a picture of it after I painted it white. But it took 4 coats to sufficiently cover it.

After I painted it white, I taped the five panels around the edges with painter's tape. Then I painted two panels on each side dark brown. I traced an outline of two birds in the middle panel and let it dry.

Then I painted around the outline. It took 3 coats total. I also did not get a picture of the back, but I used picture hanging kit. Attaching two d-rings to the back and looping wire to each one. Then I screwed a hook into the wall to hang it up. Here it is:

Vent

2011-07-21T20:53:00.000-07:00

I typed out something that would be of no help to anyone if I posted it. Therefore, it won't be posted and this is the post for today. Maybe it will be turned into a poem or short story and the ambiguity I can hide behind in those forms will allow me to vent.

Coming Soon

2011-07-19T19:31:00.000-07:00

Hopefully by the end of this week I am going to post of blog (with pictures) of how I made a headboard out of an antique door. Look for it!

The Cabbage Worm

2011-07-16T17:59:00.000-07:00

This poem is a story. In my mind I can see the events that lead up to this moment, but I don't want to tell them because I want whoever reads this to have their own story. It is about deception and the way others react and feel when they realize they have been deceived (especially as a mass).

The Cabbage Worm

It was the seventh day
That is, the seventh of May
And he would hang
On the gallows.
He had beguiled us
Reviled us
And we felt distaste sting
In our mouth.
Though his words
Had been smoke
We had believed
This fable-full man.
Our vanity
Our vanity
No elixir
For that disease.
The solution?
Let his au jus
Run down the
Wooden platform
And pay for
His sulfur sins.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

Daddy

2011-07-14T22:13:00.000-07:00

I think my Creative Writing professor wanted to read this poem and find something reminiscent of Sylvia Plath's "Daddy" poem. This was the first poem I turned in (the one below is the edited and re-written version) but she wrote that the poem was like a Hallmark Card. You may think means that she liked it. In fact, that is an insult in the creative writing world. I think it also led to her having a preconceived idea about me the whole semester. She was surprised when I turned out some things and answered certain questions. Her tone said "Emily? That must have been pure luck!" I had never actually had a professor think this way of me. Usually in every class from Brit Lit to English 2, History, Sociology, Government, even Algebra I had my work held up as an example. It could be embarrassing, but if was also affirming. So, I worked hard in Creative Writing (and all the other classes too, hard work got the "A's") and I think it paid off in my writing. It still wasn't what she wanted, which I think was what fell within what was popular in Creative Writing at the time(there should not be trends in Creative writing!) But she did like a couple of lines (which happened to be some of my favorite)and I have kept those in this version of the poem.

DADDY

Your green eyes laugh
For your number one girl
And she wants to be like you,
Spitting sunflower seeds
Like a machine gun
In her best daddy fashion.

I put my soft child hand
Into your rough and hard-worked ones
And trust that life is certain.
I'll wrestle your muscled arm down
White where the sun has not browned
You. And I'll keep you there forever.

We played the "get-away-game"*
You holding me tight,
I would loosen your grip
Trying to see who was strongest
You always won, but our delighted fun
Was that I could never really get away.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

*The Get-Away-Game is an actual game that my dad and brother and I made up. The object was to "get away" from my dad. We had to be able to unloose his hands and legs and run away. He would hold us by his legs, we would wriggle out, think we were home free and he would grab us by the ankles. Or unhinge his hands and then get caught between his legs and so on.

Confidence

2011-07-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

I find that at times I wish I had the confidence in life, love, and myself that I had at ten years old:

Knocking the wood down
With my ball
Gathering up spit
Standing there tall.
The first woman pitcher
That was me
Nolan Ryan style
Just wait and see.
Practicing and sweating
In the sun
Determined and smiling
And having fun.
I was so sure of myself
And I was ten
And what I'd give
To be so certain again.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

I have decided

2011-07-12T22:56:00.000-07:00

I have decided to post my poetry and short stories on my blog. I intended to do this when I started the blog and then I begin to read about selling the written word. To post something on a blog means that it is considered "published." Therefore, your work is not as valuable as it was before posting. Now I have come to the conclusion that it may not be valuable just sitting in my closet either. Also, it hinders me from writing anything new. If I publish it here, I am required to write more. Better to share some of me with the world. Perhaps I was making excuses because I was afraid to share myself, I don't know. I do know I legitimately want to make a mark on this world. I feel as if my life can be summed up like this: I am a dreamer, but practical. Therefore if I do not know how to being, I don't start. If I start I put my all in. So, I live a safe life but not always a happy one. I don't know how to start with getting my writing read. There is so much to read on the internet why will someone read mine? I don't know, but I am putting it out there for all who do.

Poem

2011-07-10T20:36:00.000-07:00

The challenge I gave myself was to craft a poem with the alphabet. First line starts with A.

Above
Below
Couldn't
Didn't
Echo.
Far
Gone
Hollow
In
July
Kite
Lost
Mourning
Nigh.
Oh
Please
Quiet
Restless
Souls
Troubled
Unrested
Vile
Woes.
X
Yearning
Zealous foes.

-Emily Chumchal-Andrews

Christmas

2010-11-08T14:49:00.001-08:00

You might want to call me Scrooge but I don't really see it that way. I love Christmas, but Christmas in its present form is a bummer to me.
I love decorations, lights, parties, the food, the air, the carols, all of these I love and look forward to. Then I remember that I am required to buy at least gifts for my immediate family, probably a few gift exchanges at parties, and maybe some other extra ones and Christmas becomes stressful.
I would much rather make my gifts or, better yet, not have gifts at all except for the kids.I love giving gifts but having the pressure of buying that many at one time,being expected to do it, and spending that much money takes any joy out of it. I think gifts should be a symbol of thinking of someone. I feel more like it is a test.
It is also stressful on my budget and I feel like people say they understand but don't really. If I didn't buy gifts for anyone I don't think they would be very happy and if I spent very little, they would say "thanks" but it would mean "this is lame." I cannot forsee anyone else agreeing with me or, at least, anything being done about it. So Christmas will never be a completely joyful holiday for me.
Gifts should be spontaneous and because you see something you remember someone wanted or because you just feel such a burst of love and want to show it some way. Also, never give coupons you make as a gift because people never redeem them. If Elijah ever makes some for me I will redeem them because it is insulting when people don't. It is like they think you did it to get off the hook when really it was a thoughtful way to not go outside your budget.
It isn't that I don't give, I do, but I would like to give of my time and effort and if I have it, money, but I don't want to feel like I have to and for a bunch of people at one time.
I love my family so much, I would love that Christmas should be a time of just spending with people you love and eating good food and watching kids open a couple of presents each and singing about our Saviour, looking at a transformed city of decorations and lights...

The Silence Of Adam

2010-10-09T21:31:00.000-07:00

I have hear a theory about Original Sin that I have to say makes me more than a little irritated. I blew it off the first time I heard it because it was a pastor I didn't care too much about and I didn't want to waste my indignance on someone who wasn't worth it. However, I also have heard this theory from a pastor who is not my own, but who I think is a smart, godly man. I am willing to listen, but I am not of the mind that a pastor (whether you respect him or not) is the ultimate authority on God's word-they are fallible human beings just like we are. I don't think that God gives them special knowledge on his word or special wisdom- I think He gives them as much as they ask for and beleive for Him to give, but God gives us the same opportunity. That is not my main point, it is only to say that even after listening to this man I respect I was a little tight in the jaw. I won't say that it is a subject important enough to spend every post on, but I will say that it is more than just something I disagree with, I really think it implicates women.
When I listen to a pastor say the things like this theory it really negates any teaching that tries to say that women are not inferior (just need to be submissive); that women were made in God's image and are equal (but have "different roles");that women are priceless (not just a "weaker vessel". Those teachings, which have a bitter taste to them already, are hard to swallow when you hear teachings such as "The Silence of Adam."
The gist of the theory is this: Adam sinned not neccesarily because he ate of the fruit from the forbidden tree, but because he passively accepted the fruit and "listened to his wife."
I don't have a problem with the teaching that passive sin is still a sin-it is. The part that upsets me is that it was a sin because Adam listened to his wife . I have a problem that it was because he was supposedly not "man" enough to refuse her offer. I also have a problem with the subtle allusion to Eve (and, therefore, other women) being naive and, at the same time, deceitful or seductive. In this sermon, the pastor also said that "sometimes women just want to be told 'no.'" He said that they want boundaries. I am a woman, not a child. It seems as if the world, inlcuding Christians, treat women as a step barely above them, someone to be disciplined and guided because decisions are diffucult for them to make. God has put us in place that I don't always understand, but we are not children and God does not place us in that role by any means.

Back In the Day I Was All That and a Bag of Chips. Boo Ya!

2010-06-22T01:50:00.000-07:00

SPOILER ALERT: There are pictures at the end!

I definitely wasn't all that and a bag of chips but I just HAD to use three terms from "back in the day" in my title. There were so many more I could have used. Like "what up, G"?" and "duh" or, better yet, "doy." Where did that one come from anyway?
I have definitely been on a 1990's kick lately and it might be because I am nearing 30. And, also, as I mentioned in a previous blog, people a decade younger or so don't know what I am talking about OR they don't realize we didn't have something they have now.
I have a story from just last week that is the perfect example, actually. My husband was telling a story about a homeless magician guy that did a card trick for him in a restaurant (this was about ten years ago). My husband was with some friends and the guy came up to Bobby and had him pick a card from an invisible deck, the guy walked out of the restaurant and didn't come back for a good ten minutes. Meanwhile, Bobby told his friends what the card was but they didn't leave the table during that time and the guy was not even inside the restaurant. The man comes back and pulls out the card Bobby was thinking of! Well, the boy he was telling this story to (who is about fifteen) says "maybe your friends texted him." Bobby and I looked at each other and we both realized the same thing, there was no such thing as texting then! It was funny. It just makes me think about the 90's and what was different then. It's late and I know I will leave out a ton of things but here is what comes to mind:

Hair:
Bowl Cut
Ceasar Cut
Shag Cut
Perms
Crimped hair
The Bob and bangs

Clothes:
Neon...
Then Grunge
Flannel
Hooded Shirts
Platform Shoes
Skorts
Leggings
Lots of layers and, wow, the patterns didn't go together
Shortalls
Wide leg pants
Baggy polos
Hats
Babydoll dresses
Chokers
I could go on...

Music:
Spice Girls
MC Hammer
Vanilla Ice
NKOTB
Smashing Pumpkins
The Cranberries

TV:
Fresh Prince
Family Matters
Full House
My So-called Life
Silver Spoons
Duck Tales
Tale Spin
Darkwing Duck
Tiny Toons
Rescue Rangers
Step by Step
Growing Pains
Family Ties
What was that one with girl that was a robot?
Which reminds me...ALF (he got on my nerves, though)
Too many shows

Toys:
Pogo ball
Pogs
Nintendo (just nintendo, no super, no whatever came after that...)

Movies:
Home Alone
Ninja Turtles
Edward Scissorhands
Hey...the FIRST Toy Story
Apollo 13
Aladdin
A League Of Their Own
Dumb and Dumber
Mighty Ducks
Father of the Bride

Slang or Lines:
Duh
Doy
Talk to the hand
Whatever!
Loser
Boo ya!
Aiight
Crunk
Don't even go there!
Jacked up
Oh snap
Score
Sweeet
Stylin'
Tight
Bra (as in, "bro" or "brother")

It is late and I need to quit but to top off the blog some pics of me in the 90's

You're welcome

I really do have on a fanny pack "Shoot, I know you just di-nt"

So sweet...

The grunge look, I loved hats...and does my hair look gold? Yeah, I dyed it with peroxide.

The grunge look again, hat again, Carmen might kill me. "I am slowly going crazy 1,2,3,4,5,6 switch, crazy going slowly am I 6,5,4,3,2,1 switch..."

And some 90's boys. "Ain't no thing but a chicken wing-is that G-money, bra?"

The Ministry of Truth

2010-06-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

1984 by George Orwell was one of my very favorite reads in High School. I still remember how it intrigued me then. If you have never read 1984 or don't remember it really well or just read the SparkNotes then I may have to explain the reason I chose the title for my blog.
In 1984 the main charater works at The Ministry of Truth in which it is his job to change newspapers to reflect the way that the governing authorities would want history to be portrayed. He rewrites history but the Ministry of Truth is also involved in chaging entertainment media and any other sort of media that would cause the citizens to think differently than those in charge think they ought to. Anything that would oppose their ideals.
Keep the above explanation in mind while I explain this next part because they will tie in eventually. The other day I read an article in a magazine that has a specific target audience which is, namely, Christian homeschool families. By just skimming the magazine you can tell there are most certainly some ideals that a large part of the demographic have concerning how to raise your children and what a proper Christian looks like. Then again, it may be the editor that is skewing it one way.
I was reading this magazine in the first place because I am working on breaking into freelance writing. I figured it would be wise to break into it through an avenue that was familiar to me- a subject I know a lot about. I was homeschooled throughout my formative years-elementary, junior, and high school- and I was raised in a Christian home. I thought this magazine would be good because as far as I can tell it is the most professionaly done and widely distributed of its kind. I have learned that the first step to writing for a magazine is to research it and study the format and what sort of articles they are interested in.
While loooking through the magazine I came to a section suggesting books to let your boys read and books to let your girls read. Before books were listed the article explained why the different sexes should read the suggested books. In short, boys should read adventurous books with plenty of sword fights and confidence and resourcefulness, books that help them become a provider and speaks to their love of adventure. But for girls, the contributing author (who is a woman) said that "modern" books provide girls with role models who are too focused on education and adventure. This shouldn't be so girls are the ones (in her words) "who hang the calico curtains in the cabins the men build." In a word, this author managed to say "don't fill their pretty little heads with ideas." She said that girls should read books about the home and the family and relationships since that is eventually what they will be concerned with. I was flabbergasted. I had to check to make sure that this was a recent publication and that it wasn't dated 1950 something.
I am a mother, I love my son, I love my husband, and sometimes reading about adventure IS discouraging because it is hard to do with a family. But that doesn't mean that I can't have adventure ever and it doesn't mean that some girl out there or MANY girls out there aren't meant to have adventures and to invent and discover things in fields of education. Not all are even meant to marry,not all are meant to have children and not all are meant to follow the mores set on wives and mothers even if they are in that position. By the way, why do Christians forget to tell girls that they don't have to get married? Why do they pose the life of singleness as a plight to be endured? God said marriage was good but he also said (through Paul) that those who are married will endure hardship because they are focused on the things of this world. But this is another blog subject entirely. Back to the subject at hand. Further than that, the thing that bothered me the most about these "suggestions" was that the boys were supposed to delve into and relish adventure whereas girls were supposed to abstain from looking at it. It isn't because girls would not find pleasure in the reading of adventure or in imagining themselves doing adventurous things or being educated but because they would be dissatisfied with their lives and not focus on their inevitable purpose.
In the same vien, it is a double standard because nothing is said about men being involved in the family. If there are women having a family then certainly there is a man who helped the family come to fruition. It seems as if that man is meant to inseminate the women with his seed and not bother further with the family, but to pursue satisfaction in his work and adventure. He is free to go here or there and so it is no problem for him to read all his life about adventure. He should be pursuing it then, as a boy, and later as a man; wherever his mind can take him he can go. Whatever is his pleasure it is in his reach, it is his privilege, his birthright as a male. However, the woman will only have so long to revel in the summer of her life. Soon she will be concerned with babies and surely she will leave this resonsibility if her head is filled with ideas. It is not in her future, it is not her privilege, why make herself unhapppy? It is a sin for her to be unhappy and she will inevitably be unhappy if she expects adventure. It is also unladylike. BS.
I admit, when I was young I had so much freedom and I loved adventure books. I imagined myself in each one of them. As I grew older I realized that my decisions were a little more limited than boys. Mostly because I was not encouraged to reach for the stars so much as they were. It was cute when I was young to exclaim that I was going to be a pro pitcher, but the older I got the more I heard what women were not capable of or should not be doing as it was a violation of ladylike behavior. I wondered why I had these desires if they were wrong. I don't those think those desires were wrong. Man and woman alike should realize their responsibilities and look at their adventuerous dreams in this light.
A man has a family as well as a woman and they should both be tied down in some respects and both encouraged in their dreams as well, able to support one another to enjoy their family as well as to reach other goals. Family should not be a rope that ties you down. Suggesting that a girl should not read these books suggests that a family is a weight more than it suggests its original intent which is for the woman to be a good mother and wife. But why are these the only words that define her? "Wife" and "Mother" she is also many more things as well, those are only her titles. If a family is a rope it should be to support, to help climb, to lasso the bad guys.
I would suggest that boys read books about men who love their kids if girls are to read books about relationships and that if boys are to read books about adventure then girls should be able to read books about adventure if it is something that rings true with the desires God gave them.
It just made me think of the Ministry of Truth. Have the females read only the propaganda that keeps them in line with this media venue's own ideology. We need family men and family women. We need men with adventurous hearts and minds and women with adventurous hearts and mind. We need men who work hard to provide and women who work hard to save and budget what the men provide. We need women who can sew and men who can brag about the quality of the sewing. We need men who will iron and women who will hammer. We need them working side by side enjoying the satisfaction that hard labor brings. We don't need one independent and full of life and the other dependent and dull. Interdependency on Christian brothers and sisters, wives dependent on husbands and husbands dependent on wives. Most of all, dependency should be reserved for God only and in that case men and women alike must lean on Him in an equally submissive and trusting manner.

dc Talk - Heaven Bound

2010-06-08T08:25:00.000-07:00

Here is the Heavenbound video mentioned in the previous blog. This is 1992, baby!

Oh My!

2010-06-07T20:51:00.001-07:00

I haven't written a post since January! When I have a break from running after my baby boy, cooking for my family (which included 4 teenage foreign exchange students) and cleaning up after them all, I found that it took so long to unmuddle my brain that my baby had woken up from his nap or someone needed to be taken somewhere or cleaned, etc.
I have this desire to write well thought out posts, but I think, once in awhile I should just post something to make sure I do. However, I have been writing in a notebook consistently for the past month. I have to say I am proud of this accomplishment. So, now that I am writing something, let me at least broach some subject.
I have found that I am finally entering a new stage in my life, where kids in high school do not know what some of the things I talk about are. I wondered when I would reach this stage where I am unique to some generation, where I say "we didn't have that when I was your age", where I date myself, when I mention a fad that I didn't really realize was a fad until I see that they have no idea what it is, where I say "I was there" and they were, like, 3 or when technology is a little ahead of me.
In the past month, I have predicted fashion, but only because I have recognized that the 1990's are back, and I guess what might come next. In the past month, I have mentioned three things and the teenagers I talked to didn't know what I was talking about.
1) Remember the Magic Eye pictures? Where you had to stare at them and see if you could see an image that didn't seem to be there? They didn't know what that was.
2) Remember the Sky Screamer at Astroworld (at least you Houstonians)? They had never ridden it and they didn't know what it was. But, really, they were only 13 when Astroworld was gone completely.
3) They didn't know that DC Talk was originally Hip Hop. Not everyone knows DC Talk but these kids did. However, they didn't know that they started out Hip Hop. I started talking about it because they mentioned Fanny packs. I told them Fanny Packs were actually cool at one time (like when I was a kid) and then I proceeded to talk about how Toby Mac wore one in a DC Talk music video for Heavenbound when they were Hip Hop. I even started to sing the song. That is probably one of those moments where Elijah will slap his forhead and say "OMG" when he is older.

Something I Found

2010-01-20T16:40:00.000-08:00

Today while looking at organizing a desk (but not actually doing it) I found a notebook that had only a few pages written in (both in my handwriting and in Bobby's). The one in my handwriting was titled "Snippets on my brain today." There were four "snippets" one on Atheism, one on kids, one on a website, and one on ideals. The one on kids read like this: Kids-are wonderful and free. I wish people would let me dance ballet in the middle of Chik-Fil-A.

A Breath of Fresh Air

2009-12-15T06:39:00.001-08:00

I haven't consistently been writing down my "beautiful things" but I haven't forgotten about it. It has helped me a lot to focus on the small things so that I can look back and realize how full my life really is.
Saturday I took Elijah to the Galleria with me and he was admired by so many ladies (and men, but not quite as extravagantly). I could not help but smile as each of them cooed at him and were absolutely overjoyed when they were rewarded with a smile or a giggle. Their reactions to Elijah clarified a comment one of Bobby's co-workers made when they met Elijah as a newborn. She said to the other ladies in the office "He is like a breath of fresh air, isnt he?" And he is. I think that a baby is like a breath of fresh air. Healthy and refreshing for the heart, mind, body, and spirit. Like a beautiful, needed surprise. Babies are so pure and perfect in their newness and we don't yet know what God created them to be so they are a clean slate and a wonder.
This has caused me to surmise that once the masses fall out of love with babies, it will show a more callous heart toward God and purity and caring. I wonder? Maybe I am wrong.
At the Galleria there were plenty who pushed past me in their rush to find what they needed. Their lack of concern for others, even a woman with a baby, a stroller, a diaper bag, and purse struggling in a huge, crowded mall was disheartening-then there were those who stopped to coo at Elijah or ask me how I was doing and it was encouraging. There were those who knocked into my stroller and never looked back and then there were those who helped me bring the stroller up and down stairs. There were people who stopped to open the door for me and my load and those who let it shut on me as I had two wheels out, one stuck in the door and a baby in my arms.
I am thankful for all the beautiful people who made my trip a little easier and although it was a struggle it was worth seeing the joy those 12 pounds and giggles could bring to others. Ladies stuck at work whose faces lit up when they saw him. Those in line, not so disgruntled because they can talk to my baby and get a smile. People who assisted me having a lightness in their step after they knew they had really helped someone else out.
The small things make life beautiful. Like my small, little brown-eyed boy. The ladies at the YMCA call him "Bright Eyes."

Camp

2009-11-22T19:03:00.000-08:00

Beautiful thing:
November 19- The delicious dinner I made for Tony's birthday! I think he really enjoyed it. I made Salmon, rice, watermelon, corn on the cob, and crab and then placed a lobster on his plate. Those are all of his favorite foods.

November 20-22- We went to Camp Peniel for the weekend taking the boys to camp and the weather was beautiful but not only that I got to be outside in it- a lot! In particular this morning I washed my hair and stepped out with it still wet. The air was cool and the sunshine bright and the wind was a mere breeze blowing my hair back every so often, brushing my face. I loved it!

Camp Peniel has a High School camp in November and we took the boys to it because if they want to get an American experience this is definetly one of the best! We aren't sure what their verdict is, but ours is that camp will always be in our blood and we loved it!

The weather was beautiful. We played Warball (which is intense indoor dodgeball)and "Rocks" which is a game other camp people will know but would be confusing if I tried to type it out here.

I only got to do canoeing for activities because Elijah was inevitable hungry right around activity time each day, but he did so well I was absolutely proud of him. He was hungry during worship time as well, but at least I can feed him and enjoy that at the same time. It is lovely listening to a sermon outside. I imagine it is what Jesus' disciples did often. I love doing anything outside though when the weather is clear and crisp and beautiful. I think it makes my mind more clear and everything else crisp and beautiful!

Raindrops on Roses

2009-11-19T10:20:00.000-08:00

I am the kind of person who cannot work in a mess. I will clean up the mess so that I can do the other thing I needed to do in that same room. I pick up after myself. I leave things cleaner than they were when I came. That's just how I am. I feel like I never get to enjoy the fruits of my labor and it always seems like one big circle because I end up cleaning up after everyone. I don't expect spotlessness just a little consideration. However, this isn't supposed to be an epistle on cleanliness, it is just to say that it makes life discouraging when it feels like all you do is run around in a circle. That statement brings me to my main focus. I realize that life is made up of small, beautiful moments. Sometimes we get to travel or do something really exciting, but each day there is usually a beautiful thing that makes your heart swell or at least makes you smile. I want to try to write down each day that beautiful thing. Seeing it written helps and I can go back and look at all the beautiful moments my life is made up of...

This what I wrote the night I started it, Bobby and I were fighting and it was something small but important that happens over and over. Even though it is something we need to work on, it was ruining the night because I couldn't get over it and that is something I need to work on. Here it is:

November 14, 2009

I need to remember to live life

I need to take a moment each day to think about the beautiful things like Elijah laughing and smiling at me and so on.

I need to not focus so hard on my faults or on Bobby’s he has so many good traits and I love him, his faults are habits and not statements that he does not care about me or think of me or consider me.

Remember when we fight I can’t take care of every problem in one night, I can’t discuss everything I am worried about or unhappy with or that we need to improve all in one night.

The beginning of journaling my beautiful things:

November 14, 2009- beautiful thing
Bobby and I had an argument and when we do I cannot sleep because I mull over all he said and do not know what was said out of anger and what is true and how he views me and I think and think and get upset and stay upset. He was very tired and I had kept him up even to the point of us getting out of bed. I apologized for keeping him up and he said “it is worth it if it makes you feel better.” It made my heart swell with love for him.

November 15, 2009
Playing Streetfighter 2 with Bobby and kicking his butt!

November 16, 2009
Listening to "Kindred Spirits" which is the CD that Bobby made me and played the night he asked me to marry him. As I listened I could see the night perfectly. His exceitement, his careful planning, dancing, so happy that he was home for a couple of days, and the proposal.

November 17, 2009
Bobby came home dressed up in his work clothes, dress shirt, slacks, and a tie, looking so professional (and handsome) but when he saw me with Elijah, he dropped his work satchel, took him from me and smiled the biggest smile as he talked to his son. That makes me so happy and watching that love for our baby increases my love for Bobby.

What I Have Learned About God's Love

2009-10-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

After being a mother for a mere 5 weeks I feel like I have come to understand God's love in a new way. In a way that is completely astounding and which is the sort of revelation that is always right before you. Sometimes you repeat the facts mindlessly from knowing the bible. Sometimes you truly do have little glimpses of His awesome love, sometimes you long to know it better. It seems so much clearer now although it is still like looking through a glass dimly as it says in 1 Corinthians.
It may seem clearer to me now and it may seem that if I write about it it will be clearer to others but I think many have tried and it is something you find out on your own. But maybe it will bless someone who reads it.

I did not create Elijah, but, in a sense, Bobby and I brought him about and he was born with a mix of mine and Bobby's genes so he is 'made in our image.' Immediately after seeing him I loved him completely. My strong desire was, first, love. Out of that love was born a desire to protect him, out of the love and desire to protect there is a willingness to sacrifice for him, even to the point of death (of myself).

This is what I believe. God loves us so much. He created us. His heart is bursting with love and He desires for us to love Him back. Even if we do not, He will go on loving us. No matter what we decide to do He will love us. We can make Him sad and it will hurt His heart beyond words.

He loves us so much that He doesn't want us to make that decision. Maybe because it will hurt us and He doesn't want us to hurt or because that decision is ignoring Him and He wants to be a part of our lives. We can make Him angry because He wants to protect us but He knows you also need your independence and in this independence you might make harmful decisions. All of these emotions stem from His love for us and His desire to protect us and be loved in return. I understand this more.

He has sacrificed so much, He has created us and given us good and perfect things. His heart is bursting with love equally for each of His children and that is why He feels each of these emotions.

Being ignored after love and sacrifice is like someone kicking you when you are down. Love and sacrifice may never be completely understood by the child and, therefore, we are capable of hurting Him so much. All of this understanding comes from how I feel about my son. I love him so much and desire to protect him. I sacrifice for him and know I will continue to and I would even unto death. I feel all of this and I think that God does too. He created us because He loves us, He also loves us because He created us and then He loves everything about us.
In reading this, consider your attitude about God and even about your own parents...

Elijah James

2009-09-28T15:14:00.000-07:00

Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

-- Elizabeth Stone

16 days ago I gave birth to my son Elijah James Andrews. I had never gone through so much pain as during his labor but once I held him in my arms I was overwhelmed with love. All I could do was cry and repeat "I love you, I love you" in a choking whisper. In that moment I think it was as the quote above. I now have my heart living and breathing outside of my body.

I will always love my husband Bobby in a way that is immutable. I want to protect his feelings and don't understand those who undervalue him. I not only want, but need his admiration and approval. Having Elijah, I have learned to love him even more seeing his love for me and love for his son.

My love for Elijah is such a strong desire to protect. Yet I know that I will not always be able to and must also let go in some ways for his sake. This is what it means to have your heart walking outside of your body. Every car that drives without caution is an enemy, every sound is a call to alertness, every time I look at my baby it is a miracle that he is breathing and here with me, every time he looks my way I am captured by his face, every hand that touches him is under my watch and every person who admires him touches my heart. If my heart is living outside of my body it is so susceptible to being hurt, to pain, to being broken. I am afraid of this and yet so willing to give it up to being hurt for his sake.

Here is a picture of my heart:

Lobster

2009-09-05T18:59:00.000-07:00

So, we have realized that Tony, Evan, and Yun like to sleep until about noon on Saturdays. I realize what my dad thought when he would say that the whole day was wasted by then.

Bobby and I went to Cracker Barrel for a breakfast date, bought a wrench for a pipe we needed to unscrew, and bought curtains for the nursery. When we came home from all that it was only 10AM and, yes, the boys were still asleep. When they woke up, we let them lollygag around, then we decided to see what they might like to do today. It turned out that Tony really wanted to buy some Lobster-that is what he really wanted to do. We decided that they would definitely have it at Viet Hoa which is in the part of Houston that is kind of our version of China Town (Beltway 8 and Bellaire exit) and that they also might like to buy some snacks there. We had them tidy up their study room and then left for our day trip. Oh, I forgot to say that Tony was going to buy the Lobster, but he asked me to cook the Lobster. I haven't ever cooked Lobster.

Anyway, it was really interesting going to Viet Hoa. I couldn't read half of the labels but the boys came back with a cart full of groceries and told us what was gross and good (in their opinion) as we walked through the store. There were two aisles that were labeled "American Food" which was less room than they gave the fresh seafood. Not just fresh meat, fresh seafood. The store was huge. I also bought some stuff. I was able to read the sauce labels and that was what I was most interested in besides the noodles (for which I couldn't read the labels). I bought some ginger sauce, stir fry sauce, rice cooking wine, and sesame oil.

After our shopping trip, we took them to Bobby's favorite Sushi place called Oishii which is off of Richmond close to 59. I think they really enjoyed it. I think it is funny that I went out to eat and, yet, I was still going to be faced with cooking dinner tonight for Tony. Namely, Lobster which I had never done before. And I would be cleaning up afterwards. I generally feel like going out is worth it when I don't have to cook or clean. Hmmm.

I must note here that Tony could probably eat a horse each day. When people find out that we have three teenage boys to look after they comment on how much I must be feeding them. I say that my mom always said that Camille and I ate more than our brothers-which is true. I still hold to the fact that it isn't about gender. Our other two guys, Yun and Evan, eat pretty moderately, but Tony has an incredible appetite! In fact, this is a look at what Tony ate for dinner. We took them out to eat and Tony ate a regular size dinner at Oishii (6PM), we got home and while Tony was waiting for the Lobster to cook he ate a bowl of Raisan Bran Crunch (8PM), Tony then ate the Lobster with a side of white rice (9PM), after he ate his Lobster and rice he finished the night off with a banana.

Anyway, I thought you might like a visual of the Lobster than I got to cook. We bought them live and even though they were suffocating in a bag for a couple of hours, they managed to still wiggle a little showing us they were alive.

Here's a close-up
Here is Tony working hard to get to the meat
He enjoyed his Lobster and so I count the night as a success and hope that he sees God's love in my willingness to cook Lobster for him that night.

God Changes Dreams

2009-08-26T06:43:00.001-07:00

I am so glad that I have a God that can change dreams. If I did not, I would be subject to a depressed life. I dream with such a passion that when a dream dies I don't see how to go on. However, God provides new dreams. If I did not have God and want to be a part in his plan then I would find it hard to recover when a dream was gone.

Bobby and I met at a camp called Camp Good News and worked there as counselors and program directors for years. This was always for the summer (although we helped out with some retreats during the year) but we always imagined what it would be like to be the Camp Directors. We loved camp, we loved the outdoors, and we loved children- all perfectly fitting to be the Camp Directors one day. In the summer of 2007, that dream became a reality. We were asked to be the camp directors not just of any camp but of Camp Good News- a camp dear to our hearts.

We worked there from the summer of 2007 to this most recent summer 2009. We lived on camp, ran retreats during the time that there was no summer camp, and went through a lot of changes with camp. Because of some of those changes, we found that our place at camp wasn't where we should be any longer.

We held on for dear life at first and cried when we realized we finally had to let it go. But, like I said, God can give new dreams. I haven't yet cried all my tears for camp, but I am enjoying my new life so far. We have only been in it a few days, but I hope it will turn into something wonderful, and right now my heart is more peaceful than I expected it to be.

Bobby is teaching 4th grade at Baytown Christian Academy ( I am running the house and doing hair from home) and we are both House Parents for 3 foreign exchange students. Tony and Evan are from China and Yun is from Korea. They do not come from Christian homes but are attending a Christian school and are living with us. We hope through our actions and words that we can minister to them. We also hope that now that we have nights and weekends (almost unheard of at camp) that we can, possibly, begin a bible study with people we whose lives we have had a part in over the years. Most of them have ended up working at camp at one time or another so we can say a bible study with "camp people." But this doesn't mean it was the extent of our involvement with them. Some we met before camp and got them involved and some we met at camp, but communicated with them outside of camp, and some we met at camp and never got an opportunity outside of camp but hope to now. This is our new life and our new dream.

Elijah James

2009-08-21T05:46:00.000-07:00

I haven't written a blog in a bit because I worked very hard on a particular blog in July and it somehow didn't save all the way and I got very discouraged. I will try at some point to write the blog over again, but I have to go through a mourning period for it first. Writing another blog is a good exercise in getting over the other one I lost.

Anyway, this past Monday (the 17th) I went to get my third ultrasound. I am not sure why but I guess the doctor just wanted to see what his weight was and how he is devloping (I am 36 weeks, by the way).

The technician spread the jelly over my belly and began moving the instrument around to get different shots of my baby boy. Sometimes I could almost make out what part she was looking at and sometimes I just trusted that she knew what she was talking about. She did get a shot between his legs and said "Yup, it's still a boy." I could actually make that one out when she told me what it was.

The most wondrous thing, though, was when she came to his face. You could see his face so clearly. At first, he had his hand balled into a fist and stuck into his mouth. The technician wanted him to take his hand out so she could have a better shot of his face. He did take it out and visibly yawned and stuck it back in his mouth. It was so clear that he yawned that I reacted with a yawn. You know how when you see a person yawn and then you have to as well? That was how it was and he is not yet outside my womb. I thought that this was so cool.

He yawns and kicks and sleeps. He is, apparently, at about 5 pounds 10 ounces or so, still a boy, and doing great by all measurements. His name is Elijah James and I will be meeting him soon.

Jury Duty

2009-07-29T14:58:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I was released from Jury Duty. Now, I never actually got to serve on the jury I was just "on call" for the whole week. If you have never had jury duty that means that the first day I went to the court to see if I was needed and they did not need anybody else, they had filled all of the spots. However, they put the rest of us "on call" which means that we were required to call in after 6PM each day and see if we were needed the next day.

I have always wanted to serve on a jury but have been in school the two other times that I was called. This time I happened to have the week off and no trip or anything like that planned. So, I only have experience in reporting for jury duty, but that was interesting in itself. First of all, I had to go through metal detectors and they X-rayed my purse. Then I stood in a very long line so that they could scan the Jury Duty card (which I am thankful I brought, I almost left it because I didn't know they were going to need it). I was handed a program and then told to find a seat. By the time everyone got through line there must have been over 200 people (possibly 300) sitting in the room. Two people spoke before the judge came out and said the same thing (which was the qualifications and exemptions for duty) and then the judge came out and said the same thing as well, the only difference was that we stood when she walked in and out.

The most interesting thing we listened to was the video that they showed us before everyone spoke. It was corny, of course, but, nevertheless, inspiring. There was a part of me that did not want to do jury duty because I had chores and all kinds of projects that aren't possible to get done while camp is going on (and I had the week off). The video talked about the privilege of serving on a jury, the origin of trial by jury, and the reason that our government decided for the courts to be run this way. I really felt proud to be an American. The thing that made me a little dissapointed in our system was one fact that was mentioned during the video. It was this: the first woman to serve on jury in Texas was not until 1954-that means that when my mom was still one year old women didn't serve on juries in Texas.

While I sat in the courtroom waiting to see of I would be needed, I thought about that fact and I wanted to write my thoughts down. I also looked up a few more facts before I began writing.
I found it interesting that as late as 1947, sixteen states excluded women from juries and it wasn't until 1994 that the Supreme Court mandated an end to gender bias in the selection of jurors throughout the United States. 1994? I was already 13 years old!

Arguments against women serving in a jury were for women not serving on a jury were such as:
-They were too delicate to hear certain matters.
-Their purity and modesty would be marred by being a part of a jury where decent women would discuss indecent matters with men.
-They were most likely emotionally incapable of making an impartial decision.
-Their place was the home not the courtroom and serivng would take away from their duty at home.

Advocates for women serving on jury stated that a woman could bring a different point of view and balance out the men on the jury.

That seems logical to me. In fact, I think that if people thought about it they would realize that argument makes sense because of the way God created us. It seems that people think that the way God created man and woman means that woman is in subjection to man rather than being man's complement and balance. Is one half of a whole more important than the other? I believe that not everyone is meant to be married, therefore, that means that marriage and the home cannot be the only thing that God has called woman to. I think that whether or not a woman completes a man in marriage she was created to balance out men. I think men were created to balance out women-for God must have known ahead of time that he was creating both. Therefore, women and men need each other and not just in the role of marriage, but in a community.

A quote from Eleanor Roosevelt says it well: “I believe we will have better government when men and women discuss public issues together and make their decisions on the basis of their differing areas of concern for the welfare of their families and their world. Too often the great decisions are originated and given form in bodies made up wholly of men or so completely dominated by them that whatever of special value women have to offer is shunted aside without expression.”

Women have a special value to add to the courtroom. They have certain values they hold more dear, certain perspective that men often do not have, certain concerns, and also certain qualities that are valuable that men may have, but more often do not. Men also have certain special values, perspective, concerns, and qualities. However, historically these values, perspective, concerns, and qualities have always been promoted as the standard rather than one half of a valuable addition.

Now that women are allowed in the courtroom and are advancing in other ways we need to work on the attitude that the differences between men and women are irreconcilable and replace it with the attitude that they are complementary and that women are not only valuable and necessary for a complete and balanced home but for a complete and balanced society, government, church, and workforce.

Yo mama

2009-07-19T10:21:00.000-07:00

Yo mama so fat she goes to a restaurant, looks at the menu and says "okay!"

I think people have put "yo daddy" jokes out there, but I have never heard a single one used. I'd like to say that they use "yo mama" because it gets people riled up because they honor their momma but I don't think so . Usually, "yo mama" jokes are for fun and all parties laugh-it's a joke.

I don't like to blow innocent things out of proportion, yet I think that 'yo mama' jokes are a part of and stem from disrespect in general of women. I have a big problem with the fact that most 'yo mama' jokes begin with "yo mama is so fat..." because women have been socialized to think that if they cannot have attributes that make them 'like a man' and able to survive in that world then the only option they have left or their only asset is their body. Therefore, their body is where they put all of their effort and the assessment others make of their body is where they receive their worth.

This week at camp, we had a quite a few twelve and thirteen year old girls and at least a handful were overly concerned with their body and appearance. I began to cringe at every 'yo mama' joke and heard a lot of stuff that I hope I would have noticed whether they were there or not. These girls made comments about their weight and getting too fat. Most did not want to be seen without foundation on. A girl made comments like "when my mom was my age she was skinny like me and then she got fat." It sounds like this girl was a parrot of her mom and the phrase had been said more than once. The same mom reprimanded her daughter when she saw her eat two sno cones and cotton candy at camp she asked her "do you KNOW how many CALORIES you just ate?" One girl had purposely not brought her swimsuit and only one pair of shorts. I was so happy and proud of her when she started wearing her shorts and even when she wore her jeans she rolled them up. I told her that God thought she was absolutely beautiful and that the staff at camp did too. I hope one day she notices the absolutely stunning smile she has. The one I started to see more of as camp progressed.

In Timothy there is a passage that tells women not to be overly concerned with braiding their hair or what they wear and I don't think it is necessarily because women are overly vain but rather because doing so will take your focus off of God and also because God knows that we need to know that there is more to us than just our appearance no matter what the world throws at us or what men say without thought (and with plenty of thought as well).

I hate when a woman is broken down by her looks-piece by piece. I hate that when a women gets up to speak she is looked at first and then, perhaps, listened to. Most likely, the crowd that heard her will talk as much about the way she looks as the way she speaks. Not so with a male speaker. The same with a female athlete, her physical ability is not so interesting as her physical appearance. If she is slim then you would think that is enough, however, she could be "too muscular." If she isn't slim, and didn't perform well, it's probably because she's "a cow." I've heard it, I've heard it from guys I know really well too. It is so prevalent and so accepted. If you have a problem with it then you are too sensitive and you are laughed off. If you are a guy and don't participate, you are looked at sideways-that is, if you are already cool. If you aren't cool and don't participate, you are a nerd or effeminate. At the least you are just left out which nobody in their right mind wants.

I even remember some girls in my youth group asking some of the guys what their favorite part of a girls body was. I had never ever thought that way and I felt like a whole chicken prepared, cut up, and ready to be barbecued. This one liked legs the best, breast was the best meat, thighs were his taste. I had never noticed each part of my body so acutely before then.

I'm sorry but I don't believe that 'men are just made that way.' I think that excuse is meted out too often, from mens mouths, from the pulpit and, often, with a sigh or laugh, from women's mouths. I believe that we were all born with a sin nature and that people may tend toward certain sins than others (because of genetics, gender, nuture, or decisions). But I believe there is not excuse for men to act this way, for women to act this way, or for daughters and sons to be raised where this is acceptable.

FCP

2009-07-07T13:22:00.000-07:00

“We decided long ago that the Male Chauvinist Pig was an unenlightened rube, but the Female Chauvinist Pig (FCP) has risen to a kind of exalted status. She is post-feminist. She is funny. She gets it. She doesn’t mind cartoonish stereotypes of female sexuality, and she doesn’t mind a cartoonishly macho response to them. The FCP asks: Why throw your boyfriend’s Playboy in a freedom trash can when you could be partying at the Mansion? Why worry about disgusting or degrading when you could be giving-or getting- a lap dance yourself? Why try to beat them when you can join them? There’s a way in which a certain lewdness, a certain crass, casual manner that has at its core a me-Tarzan-you-Jane mentality can make people feel equal. It makes us feel that way because we are all Tarzan now, or at least we are all pretending to be.”-excerpt from Female Chauvinist Pigs (pg. 93)

"In her memoir, Wells Lawrence returned fire at Steinem. 'What a silly woman,' she wrote. 'I wanted a big life. I worked as a man worked. I didn't preach it, I did it.' How scalding. How convincing. Who wouldn't pick action over nagging, suceeding over hand-wringing? Who doesn't want a big life?

There's just one thing: Even if you are a woman who achieves the ulitmate and becomes like a man, you will still always be like a woman. And as long as womanhood is thought of as something less than manhood, you will be thought less of, too." -excerpt from Female Chauvinist Pigs (pg. 112)

"Adolescents are not inventing this cuture of exhibitionism and conformity with their own fledgling creative powers. Teens are reflecting back our slobbering culture in miniature." -excerpt from Female Chauvinist Pigs (pg. 146)

Female Chauvinist Pigs It was my plan to write my thoughts on this book as soon as I read it while everything was fresh in my mind. Alas, camp started and I never did it. The main reason I read this book (and it caught my attention) was because it was uplifting to see that someone had written about a trend that I felt like only I had noticed. I knew this couldn't be so, which is why I say "felt" instead of "thought." I also felt confirmed by the fact that when I made mention of my notions to other women they didn't have anything to say in response. They did not seem to care and yet, to me, it is such a devastating and harmful trend. It could potentially be (and I think is) full of consequences to women and men and it hurts me as a women to the very core of being created and born a female.

If ever there were a time that females were actually united in the belief that we were created equal to men, even that is now being degraded. Through indirect word and action many females have advocated the idea that to be female is less and that it is something to rise above. To be 'like a man' is the best goal we can achieve.

The idea that one can make a list that encompasses what it is to be 'a man' is ridiculous in the first place. To then make it your goal to reach the requirements on that list is disheartening. What is special about being a woman? The thing that is the saddest in all of this is that one of the requirements, apparently, of being 'like a man' is to practice the degradation of females -and females who look to achieve this goal have no problem with doing so. If they do have a problem with it or if you have a problem with it then they like to label what they do "empowerment."

Just as I believe that the word 'disobedient'' is more accurate to describe some children than labeling them as "ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder)" I believe that condoning porn, engaging in breaking down a female by her looks, saying a phrase that begins with 'women are always...', or proclaiming that you 'don't even like hanging out with women' is still degradation and not empowerment. Calling other women 'bitches' or 'sluts,' where did that come from? We already fight a double standard imposed on us-when men are confident they are 'manly' and inspiring when women are confident they are 'bitches' when men are promiscious they are 'manly' or studs when women even enjoy sex (forget having a lot of it) they are 'sluts.' Am I advocating sex before marriage? Hardly. I am advocating a single standard.

I am advocating the equality of women. I can hear the Christian Males lamenting already..."where are the women from the 1800s?" I don't think 'equality' means being like a man. I think I have already expressed a problem with that. I find it funny and revealing that so many 'strong' Christian men and so many Pigs (whether male or female) have the same ideals. I think equality means that women are regarded and honored for their unique abilities and that it is recognized that you cannot always put those in a neat package. I think equality means that men aren't threatened by women who are as good at something as they are and women aren't called to act like or think that they aren't as good at it. I think that on a basic level equality means that I am not designed to please men. I am designed to please God and to fulfill the plan God created for me. Which might mean I am in a role that is aggressive. It might mean a woman never gets married or has a baby or keeps a house (GASP). It might mean something other than nurse, teacher, secretary...it means that I am not like all other women, it means that I am also not like a man and that it isn't my goal and it has never crossed my mind for it to be my goal.

So, here I am. I didn't write so much about the book as where the desire to read the book came from. However, it is startling that the woman who wrote the book is not a Christian (and mentions the fact) but has a lot of the same general ideas we should have regarding the raising of our daughters and sons and the liability and grotesqueness of pornography and anything resembling it. She compares the satisfaction of looking at pornography to claiming you had a feast after looking at the Food Pyramid Chart. Where are the gentlemen and why is it 'natural' for a man to lust and unnatural for a woman? Why is rape supposed a 'woman's fault' in some cases? Why do young (and old) women have such a skewed view on how to please men and why is that their concern when all is said and done?

This is not quite as neatly put as I would like. But, of course, I have more to say and hope that I can post blogs that are more specific. They will cover this general topic, but focus in on certain parts of the problem. Maybe they won't and they will be written when I just feel like something really needs to be said. Until then...

June

2009-06-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

Well, it is June and because I am not a consistent blogger I don't expect that too many people will be reading this. I have a few minutes that are my own right now which is rare at camp. Usually the only time that is my own is when I am asleep and I could possibly be called on then. In fact, I am supposed to be asleep right now and so I suppose that is why I have some time.

The more I think about what I just said, the more I should just laugh. While I am writing this I am also laminating something in the office pertaining to camp. I guess that I think when I am not laminating and answering a phone call or laminating and typing a lesson at the same time that I am having "free time." I have time of my own because I am laminating and BLOGGING.

I am not writing to say anything in particular right now. I am simply writing because it has been a few months and because I need to write. Things are pretty crazy during the summer when you work at a camp and they are crazy in the months prior to camp as well which is why I guess I haven't written in awhile. I get pretty stressed and it nice to punch the keys on this keyboard.

It is funny when you have a leadership role at a camp. A lot less campers know you. They also wonder what you actually do. Every week I have campers tell me that I am lucky because I get to ride in a golf cart (this is actually the first year I have, but they also said I was lucky when I 'got to ride a bike'). What they don't know is that in the time that I saw them at their activity, left, and came back to their activity I may have done two things in the office, talked with their counselor about pertinent information, had a meeting, and spent time with them all in their 40 minute activity. Last week at camp there was camper who said "Your lucky you get to ride in a golf cart...it's like doing go-karts all day long." Bobby said I should have replied "yeah, and I get paid for it, too!" Anyway, if I get any more free time I will write about some funny camp stories. Most of them are inside jokes and aren't nearly as funny written, but I will see what I can do.

Women

2009-01-13T07:09:00.000-08:00

I am reading a book about women in World War II and have found it very interesting even though I am only in the second chapter. One of the books major premises is that standards for women are changed during war.
War created circumstances that allowed women to do things that were against social norms-even encouraged them to do things against the social norm.

Even though it was often taken away after the war was over, women's role had been stretched and would never completely fit back into the shape it had been. War was an oxymoron for the women of those days-sad, but liberating- they longed for their sweethearts return but they had a chance to show the world that they are beyond capable.
That books like these have to come out for many to know what women did during the fight is sad. Some people in the forties did not even realize what fronts women were on because they were never reported in the newspaper as being there. It is recorded that the Army nurses were there right along with the men. The nurses suffered the same kind of malnutrition and gunfire as the soldiers. In fact, when the government realized that nurses who were in the same zones as soldiers might need to know something about war, they created a program to train them for it. In training, they had to learn to crawl on their stomachs through mud while a live machine gun was being fired, make stretchers out of coveralls and bedpans out of newspaper. They took 30 mile hikes with a thirty-pound backpack and a four pound helmet to prepare them physically. While on the battlefield all of these things came in handy. It didn't always prepare them for digging foxholes, caring for men with their faces blown off, sleeping in mud, or giving their own blood to the soldiers who needed it. But they did it.
They kept going in spite of their own injuries, one nurse hurt her back and kept serving, eventually severing her spinal cord because she had to make a jump out of a plane with a fifty pound pack.
After sleeping in the mud, carrying heavy backpacks, jumping out of planes, struggling with lifeboats while enemy submarines roamed the waters, and eating rats and frogs when rations ran out they got to go home to ads like this one:

Uncanny

2008-11-11T14:03:00.000-08:00

Two days ago I was going to make "extreme" nachos (homeade salsa, nachos with bell pepper, zuchinni, cilantro, ground beef, tomatoes, a minute amount of onions, and lots of cheese) and watch a movie ("Get Smart" to be exact). I went to Baywood Foods which is the closest grocery store and is right next to First Choice where we rent movies. The grocery store did not have cilantro (which I consider the most important element in extreme nachos) and the movie store did not have "Get Smart." I called Bobby to let him know that I was going to have to go to Wal-mart. This was our conversation:

Emily: I am going to be a little later because Baywood didn't have cilantro and First Choice didn't have "Get Smart."

Bobby: That's a bummer

E: I guess I will have to go to Wal-mart (sigh). Do you know of any grocery stores that are closer?

B: John Hitchens said that Big Chief has the best and cheapest produce

E: But Wal-mart is closer than Big Chief. Big Chief is 5 miles away.

B: But I thought you said Wal-mart was 6 miles away.

E: No, I said Wal-mart was 3.5 to 4 miles away.

I recorded this conversation merely to open for the rest of the story of my weird habit/talent. My weird habit is calculating the number of miles to various frequented locations. Also calculating the average number of minutes it takes to drive or walk or run somewhere. I also calculate landmarks along the way so that I know how good my time is, etc. For example, I knew that to get back and forth from Wal-mart to where I was would take about 8.25 minutes or so. I could go through all the reasons why, but I won't.

My talent is calculating how long it will take to get somewhere. When I go to work I know that it takes me 6 minutes driving, 1-2 minutes in the parking lot, and less than 1 minute to walk through the mall to Mastercuts. Therefore, I leave 10-15 minutes before I need to be at work. I have never bought a stopwatch because that would drive me crazy. I would be timing to the second.

I honed this ability playing a game with my brother on our way to church. Houston Church was quite a distance from our house (19 miles) and so Joseph and I would play a game trying to see who could guess the most accurately what time we would arrive at church. I knew that the average was about 22 minutes when the church was on Woodridge and 27 minutes when it moved to Eldridge. So, I would guess based on landmarks (like whether we were on the freeway or not or whether we had passed a certain exit or not). I usually won. I knew how many exits there were and that they were about a mile apart each which meant about 1 minute per exit. So, that usually helped. If there was traffic, I timed how long it took on average for certain flows of traffic and used that in my guessing the next time. I know for a fact that if you are going at least 20 miles an hour on the freeway you should not get off. It isn't faster.

Somehow I calculate when we will arrive somewhere pretty well. When I cooked meals this past weekend one of our staff commented that the food finishes right before it is time to ring the bell. "I time it that way" I said.

With all of this ability, knowing how to calculate time, I usually put about ten more things on my 'to do' list than I can actually do. Well, more like 3 things to be exact.

Fighting

2008-10-23T11:16:00.000-07:00

I feel like writing but don't know what to write about. What is on my mind, however, is how much I love my husband.

Marriage is an interesting thing. After five years my husband can make me more mad than anyone else, but when we are mad at each other it is the worst feeling in the world. I would rather forgive him than be at odds. It doesn't mean that I don't act the martyr once in a while or almost every time we fight but our fighting doesn't last for long. In fact, the longer we are married the less time it takes us to make up.

A fight could last all night when we first got married. In fact, one memorable night we started close to after dinner, we yelled and slammed doors and walked off and came back and did it again. We ended up being so tired that we tried to go to bed but we kept each other up fighting. So, we turned on the lights and fought some more. Finally we were so exhausted we decided to go to Denny's because maybe we needed to get out of the house. We hadn't exactly made up, I think we might have bickered in the car, but as we sat there, in Denny's, we began to talk normally and it was better. I think we went to bed around 3. We were so tired when we got to Denny's that we didn't stay long. That was all night and I can't even remember what it was about!

After five years some fights last longer than others but they generally are not more than 30 minutes. Last night we fought when we were playing darts and started fighting. I know I started it and he fueled the fire and we argued, but after only a half hour or so we ended up on the couch together with his arms around me and my head on his chest.

So, this is a tribute to marriage and my husband. I love him so much! Some days I want to be married and some days I don't. But when I feel like I don't want to be married anymore I imagine life without Bobby and it makes me cry and I still don't...but only for a little while and I run out to find him.

Sylvia

2008-10-16T13:49:00.000-07:00

Ever since I had to write a paper on Sylvia Plath's poem "Lady Lazarus" I have had an interest in her. I had a desire to read "The Bell Jar" by her but have always forgotten once I step into Half Price Books and am completely surrounded by them. What was I looking for again? So many books to meet and so little time! Then I end up with another book, not completely satisfied, because I know I came for something else! That also happened with "The Handmaiden" by Margaret Atwood but I ended up getting it for Christmas a couple of years ago from my husband who did remember (only because he had it written down, mind you. That is not normal.)

Anyway, I am not completely sure why but my sister-in-law, Jenny, and I ended up talking about "The Bell Jar" this weekend. I mentioned that I wanted to read "The Bell Jar" and she said she did too. That, in fact, she had just finished reading "The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath" because she had heard "The Bell Jar" was largely autobiographical and she wanted to understand it better when she did read it. Well, I ended up borrowing "The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath" and will read "The Bell Jar" soon. I have also decided that I will buy it. I mean as opposed to checking it out of the library.

The library in Hitchcock, TX not only has hours that make me wonder "who beside that same kid on the computer makes it to the library before they close?" I, myself, have never been there earlier than 30 minutes before it was scheduled to close. Except the time I had to post fliers for camp. I was tempted to stay but I had to work. Beside the hours, the selection reminds me that I never should have been tempted in the first place. I believe their library is made up of all the thrift store books in the neighbouring areas. You know what I mean. Like ten copies of a science book from the sixties. Bobby and I had an excellent thrift store we used to go to in Spring Branch called MAM and it had an awesome book selection, but I have never been in another like it. Most thrift stores have the books that Half Price wouldn't give you any money for. Half Price employees probably take them in the back and chunk them for you, muttering: "You should be paying me to chunk these for you." Thrift stores only take them to fill up space. Anyway. The La Marque library is better. Not great, but significantly better. To sum it up, soon will come a Half Price Book/Jamba Juice smoothie night!

I also thought I would include in this post a poem I wrote a little over a year ago simply because I feel like making this post longer. It has been too long since I added to this blog!

GOOD MANNERS

Her petticoat covers

The red-blooded maiden legs

Underneath.

Ladylike, she crosses them

So they are incarcerated,

And strapping legs

Grow weak and womanly.

One hand hides the other

While they sit

Powerful and still in her lap

Gentle and refined,

Her polished poise

Is two-fisted now.

Sloping shoulders

Cloak well-built bones

Gallant, they hold up her girlish

And whimsical burdens.

All the while

Sensitive, soft, and shy

Her smile is all three

She has learned

To flex those muscles well.

They are her honor

A vigorous attempt at being deferential

This smile can be reproduced

Over and over.

Once a month she submits

To its pains

And bears a child-

Like resemblance

To women stouthearted,

Gone before her.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

Hunted

2008-06-08T12:31:00.000-07:00

I have never wondered what it felt like to be a deer. Specifically a deer who was hunted. This Saturday I did not wonder either I just instinctively felt that I knew.
All week we have been preparing for camp to start, we have trained counselors hoping to equip them with all they will need this summer. Before this week, we worked most days and didn't have days off and we would stay inside our house or go off of camp. This was to ensure that we rested at least a little. Sometimes people would call us and sometimes we wouldn't answer. If sometimes we didn't answer then sometimes people came knocking on our door on our day off. This Saturday I wanted to make sure I had a "real" day off.
I decided to knead the stress out of myself by getting a massage. My appointment was in the morning. Well, I left with plenty of time to get there but did not realize that my truck was 30 acres away. That is, on the other side of camp from my house. I knew that people were on the other side of camp. People that might want to talk to me. However, there was nothing else to do but walk over there.
I walked leisurely at first looking around as I crossed most of the acreage, but knew that as soon as I crossed the bridge I was more likely to be seen. There is a usual path that I take when I walk to the other side, but if I were to cross where I usually do it would not be closest to my truck. Therefore, I purposefully took the smaller bridge that would lead me closer to my truck before I crossed over and would also provide an additional building to cover me for awhile. After I passed the building that covered me I looked this way and the other way and ran for my life while I was in open territory. That is, the territory where I could be seen.
I made it to my car safely and realized that what I did was very well thought out and weird if not for the circumstances. It makes me smile. It makes me realize even more the importance of what I do and also the need to do whatever it takes to rest when I get the chance.

Family

2008-05-27T15:20:00.001-07:00

My brother Noah recorded this video using all of the family members still in the household (I was kind of jealous not being in it). Anyway, you get a chance to see the goofiness I was born in to and the family I absolutely love and am super proud of. I love my family and I will share them with you for 3 minutes and 52 seconds. (By the way, this video is even funnier if you like Moby). Enjoy!

Camille is my youngest sibling- she babysits, is way involved in her youth group, and is excited about working at Camp Good News this summer as a volunteer.

Noah is my youngest brother (older than Camille)- he likes to make videos, draw, create masks out of all sorts of materials, and is going to be a counselor at Camp Peniel this summer. His newest thing is mountain biking, but he has also played Ultimate Frisbee.

Joseph is the one right after me (yes, I am the oldest-can't you tell by my personality alone?)- he makes handcrafted jewelry and works with the Junior High at his church. He is a super fast runner and awesome climber of trees. He used to hang upside down hands free on our rope swing in the backyard and climb the tallest pines.

Mom- is a mentor for MOPS (Mother of Preschoolers) and works with the Women's Ministry at her church. She is an avid reader, National Spelling Bee champ, and super smart.

Dad- plays the drums at church (used to play in a band called "Loveshine" in the 70's), is on the church building comittee, and does Land Surverying for a living. He is 54 and has snowboarded and will go down the black diamond slopes everytime he gets a chance to ski.

Busy

2008-05-02T07:59:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks I have finally carved out about one hour, four days a week where I go and exercise. I have found that you can always say that you do not have time for something or other, but if it is important then you need to cut out something else.
As a Camp Director my job is endless. Bobby and I have both been working seven days a week and not spending any in rest or with each other (even though we are in the office together). We have finally decided to take Mondays off. I have been feeling unhealthy lately because I have "had no time" to exercise. I finally carved out one hour, four days a week to exercise. I go into the office a little later (and sometimes stay a little later) but I feel good. I hadn't called my family in a couple of weeks but I made sure I did yesterday and invited them to dinner on Sunday. It is a process. I have to make time appear by cutting out other things. Our camp ministry is very important, but it doesn't mean anything if I haven't spent time with people I love or if I feel crappy myself. That's all I have to say today. no creative words, but at least I wrote. And at least it will impress even more upon me to make time for other things in my life.

Hooked

2008-04-15T17:45:00.000-07:00

Often when a poem is written the reader assumes that it is an event in the author's life or one they know of. In reality, that is not generally true. The author has researched (perhaps) but has mostly used their imagination. The poem I wrote below tells a story, but it isn't mine and in my conscious mind I cannot say why I would have even written it. I like the rhythm, I don't know. Read it and think what you think. I think that I like the fact that no one would think of me writing this poem.

Insidiously
I moved
My baluster stem
Body
Swaying
In a mesmeric
Rhythm.
Like a Trapdoor Spider
Near my burrow
I stayed-
and drew the moth in.
I would play him
Like an xylophone
His
Thump, thump heartbeat
Loud.
At my leisure
I looked
He was
Hooked.

Authentic trash
Like the rest
Rubble
Like my first
Like my last
No trouble.

Willingly
He stayed
Knowing no better
My body in his eyes
Hypnotized.
I danced
Like a mantis
About to prey.
Let him
Look his fill.
I rub my mocking legs
Together-
Time to kill.
His thump
Thump
Hearbeat
Is still.
He looked.
Poor boy-
He's hooked.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

Poem

2008-04-11T17:18:00.000-07:00

Ms. Shirley
Taught me the
Jitterbug
And our jollification
Was a heel-tap
Tic-snappity-snap
Excellence.

To the left
The right
Swift step-
Beat
I move my hips
Life's sweet.
Quit mugging light
And go ahead
Mug heavy
I stay in the groove-
I'm steady.
Move, baby girl,
Swing out and send
Keep light on your plates
And tap the ten.

Ms. Shirley jived and wrangled
And though I was
Tangled and heinous
In my attempts
We collapsed
In laughter and exclamation

And wow...
I'm a dancer now.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

STORY

2008-04-08T18:17:00.000-07:00

I was originally very excited about going to a coffee shop in Santa Fe called "Holy Spirit Espresso." It was so small there was no where to sit and it was labeled as "the best coffee shop in town." When we went there were at least seven people in front of me waiting as you can see in the picture below.
I ordered a Machiato and paid three dollars for the cup I am holding in the picture below (hence my face that asks: "this is what I paid for?" and pointing at small cup).
My reaction to the best coffee in town:
So, we went to good 'ol Starbucks and played checkers with pieces of paper we tore into squares.
THE END

Break

2008-04-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

There is no real reason that I am posting this picture in this particular blog except that I felt like it. I took this picture in Santa Fe, New Mexico when my husband and I went a couple of weeks ago.

I was asked by a Santa Fe resident what the highlights of my stay were and I told them skiing (of course, for anyone who knows me well) and taking pictures, especially the pictures of the adobe houses (they "enchanted" me).

I have no direction for this blog. I was working on an application that is about 2 inches thick for a government program that helps supplement our food at camp. It has overwhelmed me but must be completed by the end of this week. The program will help pay for about half of what we spend on food for the summer. Wonderful and exhausting and stressful. Two negative adjectives as opposed to one positive. I hope the one outweighs the other two. I better get back to work, but I am glad I took a break to show you this picture and to breathe for a moment.

Moms

2008-01-14T21:57:00.000-08:00

I have not blogged in awhile and as I have not really been informed what you are supposed to write on a blog I usually don't know where to begin. I just want to write. Is a blog supposed to have a theme such as: 'My deep thoughts" or "My Daily Life." Sometimes I don't have many thoughts and days just happen.
This week my husband has been gone on a missions trip and I have spent a few days with his parents, a couple by myself, and a couple with my parents. It has been a fun experience being back in my house and being in Bobby's parent's house. In both, I realize how much mom's should be appreciated. The things that I do for Bobby have been done for me when I am staying at each parent's house. I have been thinking: "Wow, this is pretty nice." They cook dinner for me, wash dishes for me, make my lunch (or at least help me prepare it) and see if I am comfortable. I don't really do much. I try to help but there is not much for me to do.
I really miss Bobby though. I miss doing stuff for him- even though when he comes back I will want his help. More than that..his thoughtfulness. That is one thing I have been trying to make sure of as I stay as a daughter once again. I am doing it all over correctly. I throw even the tiniest bit of trash away, such as the plastic you take of the top of the milk carton to open it for the first time. I try to rinse out my dishes even if I don't wash it. I ask if I can help. Moms are wonderful beings and beings without much appreciation.
This blog is not very polished but I am posting it merely because I need to get back in the groove and to give a little shout out to moms.

Legalism

2007-12-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

1. Strict adherence, or the principle of strict adherence, to law or prescription, esp. to the letter rather than the spirit.
2.
Theology.
a. the doctrine that salvation is gained through good works.
b. the judging of conduct in terms of adherence to precise laws.

Romans 6

11In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. 12Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. 13Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. 14For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace. 15What then? Shall we sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! 16Don't you know that when you offer yourselves to someone to obey him as slaves, you are slaves to the one whom you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness? 17But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you wholeheartedly obeyed the form of teaching to which you were entrusted. 18You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.

Matthew 23

24You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.
25"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. 26Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.

Romans 2:11-13

11For God does not show favoritism.
12All who sin apart from the law will also perish apart from the law, and all who sin under the law will be judged by the law. 13For it is not those who hear the law who are righteous in God's sight, but it is those who obey the law who will be declared righteous.

Right now my thoughts, like this entry, are random and not put together as well as I would like. I would have liked to have them all put together before I started writing but I have a feeling they will only come together as I start to write.
I have been thinking about the word "legalistic" because a lot of people who went to a church that I did and went through a break-up of that church as I did like to describe the church that way. They will admit that they were legalistic but I think they blame it on the church. I also think that many of them have tried to put themselves so far from that label that everything they do is "justified by grace" now.
Sight has been lost of the fact that although we are not under the Old Testament law where we are required to sacrifice animals or law where men are required to cut their beards just so we are under law that God never abolished when he saved us by sacrificing his son.
We are under that law because that law was given to show that we are sinners. We do not need to follow the law to go to heaven because then we would follow it by letter only. We follow it to please God but only because we know it pleases him and he has our best in mind. We will not lose our salvation because we gained it by faith and by grace, but grace and faith do not abolish the law. It is still there and if it is there to show us our sin it must be something that is written in our hearts when we are saved and something that we should follow.
I write this because I see so many situations that are justified now because we feel that God does not want us to be miserable. Murder, stealing, adultery, lying. They are justified so easily but we cringe to call them by their name because we know they are wrong. They become unrecognizable to us because we have told ourselves that is not what they are. This situation is different.

http://www.pluggedinonline.com/discernment/a0001825.cfm

Journaling

2007-11-14T22:28:00.000-08:00

I was reading a blog of a friend of mine and she was talking about how she has not been blogging so consistenly as she used to. How she used to journal consistently even if it was just to say what she did that day. Her words sounded like ones that have come out of my mouth or been written by my hand on paper. She even mentioned going back and reading her earlier journals which I have done lately. Wow.
Anyway, it made me think that this blog could just be a record of what I did today. Maybe I will make a timeline.

5:26- turned off the alarm. (I don't know why- I like to pick odd times to get up- that is, not an increment of five.)
5:34- got up
5:35-stared at my clothes
5:37-picked out "dressy" jeans, pink top, with lacy white top underneath, and white ballet shoes.
5:38- put them on
5:41-got my lunch together, brushed my hair, etc.
5:46- kissed my husband
5:48- grabbed my jacket and headed to work
5:48-6:48- listened to Oldies on my radio on the way to work
6:48-7:00- slept in my car in the parking lot
7:00- opened up office
7:00-3:00 Answered phones, made Chris laugh, made Darrell laugh, addressed Christmas cards to customers, updated contact information of customers, ate lunch in Lisa's office with Lisa and Kim, argued with Kim and Lisa about whether Arby's ever had Barbeque sandwiches or not (while I ate my Cinnamon Spice Oatmeal with Walnuts and Raisins), quoted an auto, sent quotes, and said "Bye Lisa, bye Kim."
3:00-3:45 drove toward home
3:45-4:20 grocery shopped and bought Spinach, Dannon Blueberry Yogurt (no artificial anything), REAL butter, Grapenuts Cereal (name brand for hubby, off brand for me), onion, carrots, garlic, zuchinni...you get the idea (healthy stuff)
4:20-4:30- drove home, put up groceries
4:30-4:50- talked to hubby about important stuff and his rough day
4:50-5:20- made Cheddar bay Biscuits for the feast tonight
5:30-6:45- hung out with the RVICS who come to camp to work as missionaries there for a month. The RVICS are a group of retired couples who do about month long projects for different christian organizations. They are at camp helping to paint cabins and finish the Dining Hall. We ate Shrimp, biscuits, salad, strawberries, and coleslaw (I didn't eat Coleslaw-yuck!)
6:45- left for some thing we felt we needed to do for camp
7:00-8:00- did the thing
8:15-8:30- practiced Swing dancing because we want to do a routine for a talent show at Family Camp.
8:30-9:00 -put photos in photo album because I am trying to organize them all.
9:00-9:30 -tried to outbid somebody on Ebay for a present for Bobby. I was the highest bidder but didn't meet the reserve price.
9:30-present- checked myspace, checked facebook, checked blog and began writing.

GOODNIGHT!

Versemaker

2007-11-09T19:32:00.000-08:00

I am going to explain this poem. It is a favorite exercise of mine to get the writing juice shaken and flowing. You take about fifteen words or so and use as many as you can or want and create a poem. I generally love what comes out. Just because it is so different than starting from scratch and you often write something you never would have imagine. Here goes:

You are the trustee of my reality
And the vinegar on my jujube
Melting my sweetness into
A stagnant pool.

I am orange
I am a cloudburst
I am the queen of my realm

But you are like a hyphen
Dividing me while connected
A shoehorn squeezing a large foot
Into a small boot.

I am the foot
I am the word
And the jujube.

This is reality.

Roots

2007-11-06T20:46:00.000-08:00

This weekend I went to Lafayette, Louisiana. We had a get together at my Uncle David's house and his place was filled with happy chatting, laughter, and gumbo. Mixed together it was an absolutely wonderful weekend. The party consisted of all of my aunts and uncles on my mom's side of the family and most of my cousins. My mom has two sisters and three brothers. One of those sisters passed away about ten years ago. I have eight cousins on my mom's side. Five of them were there. I don't remember everything we talked about. We watched football. Sentences ended with "Shah" a lot. Talk of music ran through our conversation and floated in the air. I left remembering that I have some interesting, intelligent, creative blood running through my veins. It made me happy. My roots soaked up refreshing water and my limbs feel like they are budding new flowers.

Disguise

2007-10-30T21:03:00.000-07:00

The day before Halloween I am pondering Halloween. More accurately I am thinking about costumes. My family did not celebrate Halloween and our church had no alternative to Halloween. I am not sure why. But I miss that I missed out on the chance to plan out a costume every year and show my creation off to a bunch of people. It sounds fun. I am still uncomfortable with celebrating Halloween, but I would love to go a costume party. I think you are never too grown up for one.
Costumes and grown-ups are funny. When we are children we are so blunt and confident and love dressing in costumes for parties, Halloween, playtime...bedtime. The older we get the more we walk on eggshells and the less confident we become. We think dressing in costumes is for children and silly. But grown-ups change disguises many times every day. It is not just different responsibilities we take on, it is a whole new persona we have created for that "role." We are "Mom," "Socialite," "Wife," "Boss," and "Good Friend." It is tiring.
Another disguise applicable to women only is a disguise called "makeup." They like to wear this disguise everyday and not leave the house without it. I do not mind this disguise if it is because it is a fun disguise, but when it is worn every day it is like the child who never wants to take his Superman PJ's off. Better it is like a pacifier that a child sucks. It is security because the woman believes that there is something in her face that she has to "make up" for. When men wear it every day because they feel they have to I may consider it.

Thoughts

2007-10-25T07:26:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a book that I borrowed from a friend. She enjoyed the book immensely. Right now all I can say is that the author has a writing style I like. I also enjoy the frankness she displays but I was disturbed reading one chapter in the book on the author’s beliefs about abortion.
She is a Christian and her book is her own thoughts on faith. What startled me was not that she had questions about the morality of abortion but that there was no question at all and she was emphatic about that fact. What was most disturbing was that when stating her argument she said that we should not bring into the world children who aren’t wanted. It seems to take away responsibility from a woman. I am a feminist myself but I my beliefs on abortion don’t coincide with many feminist out there. I believe in responsibility. Because a man is allowed to act like a fool a woman should be allowed to act like a fool as well and not be ridiculed. But should the woman act foolishly because she can?
I was not as shocked reading the book as I would have been simply because I have heard this once before. In a creative writing class I took there was a woman in my class that I became close to. We would talk after class, share our ideas. This was because we had the immediate knowledge when we met that the other was a Christian. As we talked and the class progressed I found out that she was not anti-abortion. That was shocking enough. I had met some who were anti-abortion except in the case of rape or believed if a woman is going to die because of the pregnancy she should abort. I had never met one who was a strong Christian and yet believed that abortion merely if it was your decision was okay. Needless to say, I didn’t agree. However, it presented me with a lot of cud to chew.
This morning I decided to peruse the internet by typing in Christian Pro-Choice. I did so and there are plenty of websites presenting this case.
What is infiltrating our church? American Christians lack distinguishment from other Americans. We are part of this world and should not distance ourselves from people in it-yet this world is not our home. We cannot bend our philosophy to fit a world that does not love God. I have decided to research Christian Pro-Choice and see what they have to say and I hope to write about it soon.

Quote

2007-10-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

"It is reasonable that everyone who asks justice should do justice." - Thomas Jefferson

Youth

2007-10-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

I don't know what the general rule for blogging is and whether it is acceptable to write two blogs in one day- much less in one hour. However, I cannot help myself.
After I wrote my first blog I began to edit photos I have, preparing them to post on a social networking site. These photos are of the youth group I was a part of as a teenager. All of my teenage years in fact. I have such fond feelings looking at those photos and I love it when they are commented on...usually. But today and some other days like it I think more clearly. Perhaps it is the clear weather.
I was never very much to anyone in that youth group except a handful of friends. Carmen, Andrea, Pride, and Lisa. I had some who looked up to me that were younger. Other than those most in the youth group could care less whether I showed up or not. The sorry thing is that I cared if they did. Each youth created a different part of the group and we were a whole.
I loved being there and I memorize moments. I memorize them so vividly that others must think I had nothing else to do. I have many stories from the youth group but half of them are not my own. No one but me would even remember that I was standing there. For some reason I find it necessary to write this.
I was Emily. Sweet Emily. Not much else. If you needed help then I was there to help. I was there for a smile. I was there, but you wouldn't have noticed me.

Weather

2007-10-22T17:17:00.000-07:00

I have sat down. The beginning of my first blog has begun. Words are in my head and are waiting not so patiently to be transferred through my fingers to this page. What do I say?
At this moment everything seems beautiful and saying what I wish to say eloquently seems possible. I suspect it is the weather today. The weather, however, can fool you I suppose. It has been so long since I have written. That phrase is too often uttered in my own voice. I took a creative writing class about a year ago because I had not written in so long. I vowed it would never happen again and then I took an intense science class and here I am again. But I love words and phrases to leave them for too long and they always forgive me after a little prodding. They know I will find my place again and be lost in their beauty and truth and comfort. And the weather is so beautiful I can't help myself. So beautiful.

Window Seat

My Maiden Name Is- A Short Story

Floating Bookshelves

John and Mary- A Short Story

Why We Need to Fail

Ear Assault

Baytown Spots

Eats!

1) Shamiana-

Meditteranean and Indian, nice people and helpful but slow because it is family run. Food is YUM!

Thanks

I was thinking

Etsy Store

Broken Record

See and I Have to Name This Post

Musings

Cold Reading

Austin City Limits

Ponderance of Today

Explanation of "Pause"

Pause

Fashism

I Like

Look At The Stars

The Owl Rug

Headboard

Vent

Coming Soon

The Cabbage Worm

Daddy

Confidence

I have decided

Poem

Christmas

The Silence Of Adam

Back In the Day I Was All That and a Bag of Chips. Boo Ya!

The Ministry of Truth

dc Talk - Heaven Bound

Oh My!

Something I Found

A Breath of Fresh Air

Camp

Raindrops on Roses

What I Have Learned About God's Love

Elijah James

Lobster

God Changes Dreams

Elijah James

Jury Duty

Yo mama

FCP

June

Women

Uncanny

Fighting

Sylvia

Hunted

Family

Busy

Hooked

Poem

STORY

Break

Moms

Legalism

Journaling

Versemaker

Roots

Disguise

Thoughts

Quote

Youth

Weather