Jonathan and I won't see each other for a couple of days, so we decided it was a good night to go out to dinner. We chose a very special place in our hearts. A place we have loved for over a year and a half now. A place we had not actually eaten at until tonight, however. Bernie's Restaurant. Our love for Bernie's began in February of 2004 when we spotted it on Beach Blvd. in Buena Park. It looked cute and small, and claimed to be "Family Owned for (I-don't-remember-how-many) years." We thought, "that would be a great place to eat sometime. It sounds fun." So, a couple of weeks later, on a Sunday, we tried to give it a shot. But they closed early on Sundays and we were too late. Ok, another time, then. We actually tried two other times last year in the Spring and early Summer. Every time we went there, it was closed. Then one day last summer, as I was on my way to work, I passed it like I did everyday, and this time I noticed something very sad. Bernie's was closed. CLOSED. Not for the day, but forever. There were boards on the windows. I almost wept. We had tried three times and been unsucessful. Now we would not have another chance. EVER!!!!

Or, so we thought.

You see, a few months later we noticed a sign on that old Bernie's building, saying they were moving and would have a new location opening up on Harbor and Imperial in La Habra. Our hope was restored. One day, we would eat at Bernie's Restaurant. It has recently opened, and today was our chance to experience the joy of actually eating at Bernie's instead of always just talking about it. We took it.

Bernie's claims to offer "homestyle cooking." It delivers. A dinner there very much has the feel of a big midwest meal. Lots of food. Meat, mashed potatoes, veggies, rolls, salad. The main course had rather a lot of grease included, but that doesn't conflict with my idea of "homestyle cooking" in the midwest, so I wasn't too surprised at that. We'll probably go again and try their hamburgers or sandwiches and see what those are like.

It feels quaint and has nice, warm decorations. I felt happy there. It wasn't noisy or too busy. Just right.

And the people! Very friendly.

Give it a try! Bernie's Restaurant on Imperial and Harbor in La Habra. It's right next to Mongolian BBQ.

Today is a nice day, but still, most people are wearing long pants.

Pretty Much the Best Birding Day Ever

This last Saturday, Libby and I pretty much had our best birding day ever. We saw the most birds we'd ever seen in a day, and all in one place. Bolsa Chica proved its worth once and for all!

Now, if this post inspires you to go and see the wonders of Bolsa Chica, be warned! They've closed the boardwalk on the beach side of the preserve, so you can't walk out into the water and watch the birds play like you've been able to in the past. It looks like they're rebuilding it (which is good, I suppose), and it has no projected opening date. Which means that it will be probably forever before it opens again.

This was just a really cool trip to Bolsa Chica. We left very early in the morning (6:30 from Libby's apartment, arriving at the backside at 7:00 - we just drive straight down Valley View from Libby's Apartment) in order to beat the sunrise. The idea was that it would be very beautiful in the morning, and that we might see a coyote or a fox or something like that. It was fun. As you walk in the backside of Bolsa Chica you're on top of a hill, and looking out over toward the sea, the plain was packed with a while mist, illumined from above by a barely rising sun. Hovering above the mist, looking down, was a silhouetted white-tailed kite searching for something with which to break his fast. That's a bird that's always a priviledge to see, but in this case it was a sublime vision. To our right, the sun began to lit up a field, and we turned at the sound of a dog barking to see a coyote yipping with its nose raised to the sky. I think we could tell from the start that it was worth the loss of an hour or two of sleep.

Basically we just walked everywhere that we could in the park and looked at the birds that were there. Because there are so many habitats in the park, we got to see a lot of birds. Seeing five species of raptors was an especial treat.

There are some flats in the park, next to a channel of water that runs inland, and most of the raptors we saw were sitting on the dead snags in the middle of those brackish fields. As a pair of kites fed on two snags, a kestrel cruised between some other ones, to be joined by a young Cooper's Hawk. The kestrel flew away annoyedly, while the Cooper's took up a serene post on his tree. He only sat there for a few moments, however, for in a moment he took flight away from us, cruising along the ground till suddenly he began flapping his wings, hovered, and dropped. A rabbit burst from the bushes in mad flight: zig-zagging from immediately below his talons. I'm not sure that the hawk could have eaten the rabbit, it was at least half the weight of the bird, if not more, and I can't see him carrying it off very successfully, but it was very exciting for us, and the rabbit, anyway. The hawk gave up after a short attempt at catching the rabbit, and sat himself on the ground nearby, looking at it. That was really cool.

Oh, another thing, don't go to Bolsa Chica on the third Saturday of the month: that's the day that they plant native plants. There was a huge group of people there, and they all walked in from the Warner parking lot at the same time we walked towards the Warner parking lot. Which doesn't work very well, to say the least.

Now for the list!

1. Eared Grebe
2. Pied billed grebe
3. Western grebe
4. American White Pelican
5. Brown pelican
6. Double Crested Cormorant
7. Black-crowned night-heron
8. Snowy egret
9. Great egret
10. Great Blue Heron
11. Mallard
12. American wigeon
13. Northern shoveler
14. Blue-winged teal
15. Greater Scaup
16. Ruddy Duck
17. Turkey vulture
18. Osprey
19. White-tailed kite
20. Cooper's hawk
21. Red-tailed hawk
22. American kestrel
23. American coot
24. Killdeer
25. Black necked stilt
26. Willet
27. Greater yellowlegs
28. Spotted sandpiper
29. Marbled godwit
30. Least sandpiper
31. California gull
32. Forster's tern
33. Black skimmer
34. Rock dove
35. Mourning dove
36. Anna's hummingbird
37. Belted kingfisher
38. Black pheobe
39. Say's pheobe
40. Blackpoll warbler (R)
41. American crow
42. Common raven
43. Bushtit
44. House wren
45. Swainson's thrush
46. European starling
47. Yellow-rumped warbler
48. Common yellowthroat
49. Green-tailed Towhee (very rare: accidental)
50. California Towhee
51. Savannah Sparrow (Belding's)
52. White-crowned Sparrow
53. Western meadowlark
54. House finch

Many thanks to Libby for actually putting it together. It's cool that we saw a kingfisher again, this time a female with its ruddy breast. The two new birds we saw were the blackpoll warbler (we had a devil of a time identifying this bird: its fall colors are light years different than its summer colors: it goes from black and grey to yellow and black) and a green-tailed towhee. The green-tailed towhee has been seen at Bolsa Chica before during this last summer, so I wasn't too surprised to identify it, but it was still really cool to see.

A nostalgic blast from the past:

A Washington Post Article on The Best Comic Strip Ever

*sigh*

10 years this year since Calvin and Hobbes said farewell. We miss you, good friends.

Want to buy me something soooo super cool for Christmas?

It's true! I'm not so high because I was honest and said that I couldn't fly. But that's good, I don't want to be all Peter Pan, just part Peter Pan. Donald Duck is a good second place. Goofy's rediculous. I am nothing like Goofy.

You scored as Peter Pan. Your alter ego is Peter Pan. You are a child at heart. Anything you believe is possible, and you never want to grow up. Peter Pan 69% Donald Duck 56% Goofy 56% Sleeping Beauty 50% Pinocchio 50% Ariel 50% The Beast 50% Cinderella 19% Cruella De Ville 19% Snow White 0% Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego? created with QuizFarm.com

I've been tagged by both Emily and Sarah to blog about 5 songs that I'm enjoying at the moment. Here goes:

1. Sugar Sugar by The Archies
I hear it every once in a while on the radio (and just heard it a couple of days ago, in fact), and it always makes me think of my dad. My earliest memories of my father are of him drying me off after giving me a bath. He would rub his hands rhythmically on the hooded part of the towel, (you know what I'm talking about--those cute little towels with the attached hood) while singing this song, to dry my hair. Hearing it always makes me smile and think about how much I love my dad!

2. Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring by J.S. Bach
On Sunday Jonathan and I met with the organist for our wedding, and got to listen to her play a lot of really cool music, this song included. We're going to use it for the bridesmaid processional.

3. Moon River sung by Audrey Hepburn (music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer)
Audrey Hepburn is just cool. And this is a song that Jonathan put onto a CD he made me for my birthday this year, so I've been listening to it a lot lately.

4. Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys
Here's another song that Jonathan put on my CD. Whenever I hear it I think, "Yes. The answer is yes; it would be nice."

5. Kookaburra by Marion Sinclair
This is a fun children's song that I learned from my piano book when I took lessons as a kid. I recenlty was reminded of it after we saw that Belted Kingfisher last weekend, because a Kookaburra is another kind of Kingfisher.

And there you have it. :-)

Another Monday Birdwatching Post


Saturday was another day of birdwatching for Libby and me. This time we went to Carbon Canyon Regional Park for what turned out to be a short visit. But in the hour and a half that we birded, we saw 21 species, most of which were exciting. The bird of the day you can see above.

Carbon Canyon is your typical California chapparral and scrub regional park. It also advertises the largest Coastal Redwood grove in Southern California. We never made it to the grove, though. There were signs saying that the nature trail was washed out and closed. With a little more time, I think we may have made it. And in a little more time, we probably would have picked up a bunch more birds! This was a really fun trip because it was a return to the Southern California coastal hills inland kind of birds. Generally we've been visiting water-side locations lately. It's nice to see a spotted towhee again. With cooler weather coming, this kind of trip will be more feasible.

I guess it's about time to go back to Tucker!

There's a small lake in the park, but the best birding we found was on the edge of the park. There's a hill that slopes up from the creek that was full of fun birds. It also was full of the sounds of birds singing (mystery birds: we never actually saw them, though they were probably a kind of wren).

We saw:

1. red-tailed hawk (there was a pair of them hanging around the side of this hill, we even saw one land on a tree there)
2. cooper's hawk (as we walked through a little nature trail, it burst out of the top of some conifers directly overhead.
3. american kestrel
4. american coot
5. mallard
6. california gull
7. belted kingfisher (see the picture above: bird of the day)
8. yellow rumped warblers (a lot of these!)
9. western blue bird
10. american robin
11. western scrub jay
12. american crow
13. western wood peewee
14. black phoebe
15. california towhee
16. spotted towhee
17. downey woodpecker (we said to each other, it would be nice to see a woodpecker, we haven't seen one since we were in Mammoth. And so we walked a little way and there it was. And I said, "remember the hairy woodpecker we saw by the cabin?" And Libby did.)
18. black-chinned hummingbird
19. Anna's hummingbird
20. lesser goldfinch
21. rock pigeon
22. mourning dove
23. common raven
24. house finch
25. Bushtits

This trip was exciting just because we hadn't seen these birds for awhile, and it's nice to get reaquained to old favorites. Plus, you don't see a western wood pee wee or a black-chinned hummingbird every day. And we got such good close looks at the Cooper's and the Red-tailed hawks! We even got to hear the red-tails calling as they came swooping down to the hillside.

The bird of the day came while we were trying to get a look at some female Anna's in some flowering trees by the lake shore. I was thinking that there might be some roufous hummingbirds showing up soon as the migration season wears on, and as I was trying to get a closer look, I turned toward the lake in time to see a large bird with white patches under its wing swooping down from a tree near the near shore. As it dropped it let out a trilling noise, and I said, "Libby, a kingfisher!" And so we both got a really good look at it. It flew across the lake from us, and then over again to another side, so we got to watch it for awhile.

That's a first in Southern California for me! And a first for Libby at all!

Oliver Twist

Libby and I saw Oliver Twist last night. It was fun. Cute kid, interesting story.

Watching movies made now that are adaptations of books written a hundred years ago or more, makes me want to read the book so that I can critique the director's intention.

The great achievement of this Dickens adaptation was that it was completely interesting, the whole way through. And that is why I have not read Oliver Twist (I think, I actually suspect I may have, but I don't remember). I may have this conceit in my mind regarding Dickens becuase the first novel of his I read was David Copperfield. That was soooo long, and it was sooooo slow. I finished it, though, and liked it in the end. That's how it often is with such slow novels.

Another attempt at this art (making slow Victorian novels palatable to modern fast-paced audiences) is Pride and Prejudice. Yet another version is coming out this fall (or Winter, I don't remember).

How low-brow of me to be bored by Austen and Dickens. Call me Mr. Neandrathal!

Birdwatching in L.A.

This Saturday, Libby's roommate Bethany and her fiance Wade, Libby and I went birdwatching together at Ken Malloy Harbor City Regional Park.

The idea of going there stemmed from two facts:
1) Chantry Flats is inaccessible
2) I saw a website about how it had such good birding on the internet.

I had no idea that this very park was the park where Reggie the Alligator made his murky abode. Nevertheless, such was the case. We stepped into a scene from Jaws itself! Surrounding the water was an orange fence. Caution tape circled the lake at a further distance. Ominous signs warned us of the imminent danger of going too near the water.

After all, Reggie is seven feet long. He could eat you!

Soon after we arrived, we were standing by the shore of the lake, looking through our binoculars at birds, when a truck pulled up behind us. A man in a tank top jumped out and walked over to us. "Do you see him?" he drawled. Apparently this man was an expert alligator hunter from the Southern half of our country. After a moment's confusion (at the time, birds were more on our mind than reptiles), I responded that no, we hadn't. I asked him if he'd seen him, and he assured us that he had for the last two evenings seen him. As for his plans for the great lizard,

"I have something special planned for him."

I wish I had asked what that was!

Perhaps it was the ladder that they roped into a pontoon-style boat. And by roped in, I mean that they had it standing up, with ropes going from the railings of the boats to the legs, so that it wouldn't tip over. The park rangers drove this boat around the lake, and this fellow (whom Libby affectionately styled her friend) sat on the top of it, gazing down into the waters around the edge of the lake. I don't think they saw him, unfortunately.

The day was, on the whole, a very slow day for birding. We saw a lot of birds that we see a lot of all the time, anyway. Soon the consuming idea was to see Reggie. Reggie is way cooler than a bird. Mostly because he eats people. Unfortunately, we never did. All the same we had an interesting time, and near the very end of the trip we did see some neat birds, including one or two listers. (domestic muscovy duck and a flock of chipping sparrows).

The bird list:

1. rock doves
2. great tailed grackles
3. ruddy ducks
4. brewers blackbirds
5. red-winged blackbirds
6. canada goose
7. domestic duck
8. greylag goose
9. domestic goose with the hump on its nose (what's the name, again?)
10. muscovy duck
11. black crowned night heron (several immatures)
12. great egret
13. snowy egret
14. great blue heron
15. green heron
16. american coot
17. mallard
18. black pheobe
19. cassin's kingbird
20. american crow
21. red-tailed hawk
22. kestrel
23. california towhee
24. say's pheobe (woo-hoo for seeing our engagement bird: a first in so. cal for me!)
25. pied billed grebe
26. white-crowned sparrow
27. western meadowlark
28. bushtit
29. chipping sparrow
30. california gull
31. Lesser goldfinch
32. Mourning dove

I thought maybe we saw a Bonaparte gull, but it was too high to get a good read on it. Shucks!

*Whew* I am NOT called to be a Kindergarten teacher. I didn't even have to be there the whole day, and still I'm all tuckered out.

Happy quote from the evening: as Jonathan was leaving he said, "I'm only going to say good-night like this 46 more times."
Yay. :-)

I found this on Tim Bartel's resume on Bubbs, read it, and was thoroughly, thoroughly impressed. If you have the time, I highly recommend you read it. Chesterton may at his best in short works like this.

A Piece of Chalk

By: G. K. Chesterton

I remember one splendid morning, all blue and silver, in the summer
holidays when I reluctantly tore myself away from the task of doing
nothing in particular, and put on a hat of some sort and picked up
a walking-stick, and put six very bright-colored chalks in my pocket.
I then went into the kitchen (which along with the rest of the house,
belonged to a very square and sensible woman in a Sussex village), and
asked the owner and occupant of the kitchen if she had any brown paper.
She had a great deal; in fact she had too much; and she mistook
the purpose and the rationale of the existence of brown paper.
She seemed to have an idea that if a person wanted brown paper he must
be wanting to tie up parcels; which was the last thing I wanted to do;
indeed it is a thing which I have found to be beyond my mental capacity.
Hence she dwelt very much on the varying qualities of toughness and
endurance in the material. I explained to her that I only wanted to draw
pictures on it, and that I did not want them to endure in the least;
and that from my point of view, therefore, it was a question, not of
tough consistency, but of responsive surface, a thing comparatively
irrelevant in a parcel. When she understood that I wanted to draw
she offered to overwhelm me with note-paper, apparently supposing
that I did my notes and correspondence on old brown paper wrappers
from motives of economy.

I then tried to explain the rather delicate logical shade, that I
not only like brown paper, but I liked the quality of brownness
in paper, just as I liked the quality of brownness in October woods,
or in beer, or in the peat-streams of the North. Brown paper
represents the primal twilight of the first toil of creation,
and with a bright-colored chalk or two you can pick out points of fire
in it, sparks of gold, and blood-red, and sea-green, like the first
fierce stars that sprang out of divine darkness. All this I said
(in an off-hand way) to the old woman; and I put the brown paper
in my pocket along with the chalks, and possibly other things.
I suppose every one must have reflected how primeval and how poetical
are the things that one carries in one's pocket; the pocket-knife,
for instance, the type of all human tools, the infant of the sword.
Once I planned to write a book of poems entirely about the things
in my pockets. But I found it was too long and the age of great
epics is past.

With my stick, my knife, my chalks, and my brown paper, I went
out on to the great downs. I crawled across those colossal
contours that express the best quality of England, because they
are at the same time soft and strong. The smoothness of them
has the same meaning as the smoothness of great cart-horses,
or the smoothness of the beech-tree; it declares in the teeth
of our timid and cruel theories that the mighty are merciful.
As my eye swept the landscape, the landscape was as kindly
as any of its cottages, but for power it was like an earthquake.
The villages in the immense valley were safe, one could see,
for centuries: yet the lifting of the whole land was like
the lifting of one enormous wave to wash them all away.

I crossed one swell of living turf after another, looking for a place
to sit down and draw. Do not, for heaven's sake, imagine I was going
to sketch from Nature. I was going to draw devils and seraphim,
and blind old gods that men worshipped before the dawn of right,
and saints in robes of angry crimson, and seas of strange green,
and all the sacred or monstrous symbols that look so well
in bright colors on brown drawing paper. They are much better
worth drawing than Nature; also they are much easier to draw.
When a cow came slouching by in a field next to me, a mere artist might
have drawn it; but I always get wrong in the hind legs of quadrupeds.
So I drew the soul of the cow; which I saw there plainly walking
before me in the sunlight; and the soul was all purple and silver,
and had seven horns and the mystery that belongs to all beasts.
But though I could not with a crayon get the best out of the landscape,
it does not follow that the landscape was not getting the best out of me.
And this, I think, is the mistake that people make about the old
poets who lived before Wordsworth, and were supposed not to care
very much about Nature because they did not describe it much.

They preferred writing about great men to writing about great hills;
but they sat on the great hills to write about it. They gave out
much less about Nature, but they drank it in, perhaps, much more.
They painted the white robes of their holy virgins with the blinding snow,
at which they had stared all day. They blazoned the shields of
their paladins with the purple and gold of many heraldic sunsets.
The greenness of a thousand green leaves clustered into the live
green figure of Robin Hood. The blueness of a score of forgotten
skies became the blue robes of the Virgin. The inspiration went
in like sunbeams and came out like Apollo.

But as I sat scrawling these silly figures on the brown paper,
it began to dawn on me, to my great disgust, that I had left
one chalk, and that a most exquisite and essential chalk, behind.
I searched all of my pockets, but I could not find any
white chalk. Now, those who are acquainted with philosophy
(nay, religion) which is typified in the art of drawing
on brown paper, know that white is positive and essential.
I cannot avoid remarking here on a moral significance.
One of the wise and awful truths which this brown-paper art reveals,
is this, that white is a color. It is not a mere absence of color;
it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red,
as definite as black. When, so to speak, your pencil grows
red-hot, it draws roses; when it grows white-hot, it draws stars.
And one of the two or three defiant verities of the best
religious morality, of real Christianity, for example,
is exactly this same thing; the chief assertion of religious
morality is that white is a color. Virtue is not the absence
of vices or the avoidance of moral dangers; virtue is a vivid
and separate thing, like pain or a particular smell.
Mercy does not mean not being cruel or sparing people revenge
or punishment; it means a plain and positive thing like the sun,
which one has either seen or not seen. Chastity does not mean
abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming,
like Joan of Arc. In a word, God paints in many colors;
but He never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily,
as when He paints in white. In a sense our age has realized
this fact, and expressed it in our sullen costume. For if it
were really true that white was a blank and colorless thing,
negative and non-committal, then white would be used instead
of black and grey for the funeral of this pessimistic period.
We should see city gentlemen in frock coats of spotless
silver linen, with top hats as white as wonderful arum lilies.
Which is not the case.

Meanwhile, I could not find my chalk.

I sat on the hill in a sort of despair. There was no town
nearer than Chichester at which it was even remotely probable
that there would be such a thing as an artist's colorman.
And yet, without white, my absurd little pictures would have been
as pointless as the world would be if there were no good people in it.
I stared stupidly round, racking my brain for expedients.
Then I suddenly stood and roared with laughter, again and again,
so that the cows stared at me and called a committee. Imagine a man
in the Sahara regretting that he had no sand for his hourglass.
Imagine a gentleman in mid-ocean wishing that he had brought
some salt water with it with him for some chemical experiment.
I was sitting in an immense warehouse of white chalk.
The landscape was made entirely out of white chalk.
White chalk was piled more miles until it met the sky.
I stooped and broke a piece off the rock I sat on; it did not
mark so well as the shop chalks do; but it gave the effect.
And I stood there in a trance of pleasure, realizing that this
Southern England is not only a grand peninsula, and a tradition
and a civilization; it is something even more admirable.
It is a piece of chalk.

The most interesting thing about the word lumber is what happens to it when you add a P to the front. It's a whole new word! And the "b" becomes silent! That's weird.

I had my first substitute teaching job yesterday. It was for a bilingual class of 1st graders at a La Habra school. I was a little worried about the bilingual part at first, but it turned out that most of them spoke English quite well, so that wasn't an issue. There were a few issues, though:

1. I had trouble finding the school, so I didn't get there until 15 minutes before class was supposed to start, leaving me very little time to look over the plans that the teacher left for me (but she DID leave plans, and very detailed ones too, so I was very thankful for that)

2. It rained. Soooo, recess was inside. And the kids were antsy.

3. I didn't know the kids names. And this will be true for every substitute job I have. But it makes classroom management more difficult.

4. It seemed like every few minutes somebody needed to use the bathroom! Sometimes it was like, "Hey, didn't you just use the bathroom half an hour ago?" But I didn't want to be a bathroom Nazi. I mean, they're only 1st graders, and maybe they really had to go. And you don't want to risk that, ya know? I think I'll work up some kind of system, though, so it doesn't happen quite that way again. I'm thinking about making or buying some kind of tokens that I can take with me. Each kid would get a few at the beginning of the day, and they'd have to pay one to use the restroom, or something. I could also take one away or reward another depending on behavior. And then at the end of the day, they could turn them in for...stickers...or a pencil...or something. I haven't figured it all out yet, but I think it'll be good to have a system of my own. The teachers all have their own systems, but it's weird to come in and try to work in a system that you're not familiar with.

5. This one kid cried and didn't want to get on his bus to go home, saying his mom was going to drive him in the car that day. But the buses were ready to go, and his mom still wasn't there. Another teacher came up and I explained the situation to her, and she took him by the hand and said she'd take care of it for me. That was nice. I hope it worked out ok!

Overall, I think I liked it! The kids were good, and the lessons were fun and well-received. Oh, and one little girl asked me if I'd be back the next day. I told her that she'd have her regular teacher then and she said, "Oh, but I wanted to bring you a flower!" That was cute.

The exciting thing about subbing is that you get a call at 6:20 in the morning if there's a job for you that day. I hope my roommates don't start hating me.

It's September and it's raining? Whoa!

Last night Libby and I enjoyed a beautiful display by nature, lightning splitting the sky far away with tree-ish tendrels and illuminating glows. We were standing outside her apartment, taking a break from a movie we were watching (Endless Summer II).

Finally we went back in, only to be surprised by the sound of a torrential downpour outside her window.

Funny weather, this!

I love it, and I love how it kept going and going. I woke up to thunder and lightning (and unfortunately warm and muggy temperatures) last night at around 1:00. And, on my way to work, lightning was still showing up in the West! Later, I drove around campus looking for rain gear for my crew, and lightning still flickered overhead, accompanied by powerful peals of thunder, that actually shook the elevator in Hope so much that it bumped the wall. I'm serious!

Of course, rain comes with all of its short comings. A storage unit off campus flooded, and so I spent a few hours today moving couches, dressers, tables, and an oven and fridge into another storage unit. And it took a really long time to get to work today. I got to Imperial and Santa Gertrudes around 7:55, and I didn't get to campus until 8:20. I ditched Imperial and Ocaso, and wandered South on surface streets to Foster.

Anyway, I'm pretty drained because of the stress of the storage unit, but I'm happy that we had some variety in our weather.

I forgot to post about Talk Like a Pirate Day yesterday! It was pretty much a non-event, anyway, though, which is too bad. Maybe next year we'll have a Talk Like a Pirate Day party. We totally should.

Arrrrrr....

Ahoy! It be Coming Soon...



...ye scurvy dogs!

About time...

It's about time that I finally posted. I don't have internet at my apartment yet, and so the only time I could ever post is at work.

I imagine that the problems with that practice are apparent.

I'm well moved in now to my new apartment. I have a refrigerator. Actually, I have two refrigerators, which is a long story. Only one of them is running, and only one of them is in the kitchen. The other is taking up space in my front room.

Less than two months until I get married, now, which is really good! Still too long of course, but to look on the bright side, I've now waited longer than I will wait still. And so, every minute that I wait adds to the minutes that I've waited, and takes from the minutes that I've not waited in such a way to tip the ratio in a more and more postiive direction!

I'm still working my way through the Brothers Karamazov. This book is taking me longer to read than any other book ever. But it's worth the piecemeal approach I've been able to give it. I've now reached the Prosecutor's speech.

Poor Mitya.

I love Alyosha.

That's probably enough for a brief update, right?

I've just returned from a nice walk. It's a splendid day, did you know? It's been cool, and there's a slight breeze. Summer is ending; autumn will be here soon. I approve. Autumn has always been my favorite time of year.

Whoa.

Something occurred to me today. It's pretty crazy, so if you're not already sitting down you really should. It came to me through a series of thoughts that I will lead you through. It has to do with Mootharts getting married. First, I thought about how my brother, Gabe, was 22 years old when he got married, and how I'll be 22 when I get married. That's kind of cool. Then I thought about how Gabe's birthday is in January and he was married in May, so he was 22 years old and 4 months. And my birthday is in July and I'm getting married in November. So, I'll be 22 years and 4 months. Crazy, huh? Well, that's not all, folks. Gabe's birthday is January 27, and he was married on May 25...making him 22 years and 4 months minus 2 days. Here's the kicker. My birthday is July 14, and I'm getting married on November 12. And that means I'll be exactly 22 years and 4 months minus 2 days.

I'll let that sink in.

Phillip and Abbey, you might as well start planning your own weddings, now that we know how to figure out exactly what day they'll happen!

You know those pictures from the Aspen Grove that were stuck on my broken camera? Well, the camera is still broken, but I was able to get the pictures off of it. Here is a picture of us, just moments before Jonathan asked me to marry him. I'm so unsuspecting!

Strange.

There's a new Tolkien Chatter on Bubbs, and it's not mine to post in. It's like visiting an old house that was yours for ages and ages (four years) to find someone else living in it. Even if they hadn't changed anything, you would feel awkward.

My local circuit of blogs has quieted down considerably. Perhaps we are all fatigued.

Update on life:

Life is continuing. Libby is in Oregon today, and will be for awhile. I miss her very much.

I am working long days trying to serve as many people as I can as effectively as I can. God grant me strength!

I have found a place to live. It is a stuidio apartment in La Habra. One day, both Libby and I will live there. It's further from Biola, but closer to Church. I'm going to go pick up my key and pay the first month's rent this Monday. I'll then begin moving in my stuff, so that I can start cleaning this house! I might pack up some books tomorrow, we'll see.

A note:

I don't intend to post about work on this blog, because I see the concerns of my job as the business of Biola, those specific students I'm serving, and my department, not the public at large.

A thought:

*yawn*

Everyone should say a quick prayer for Jonathan when they read this. He's very stressed out right now with more work than there is time to do it, and trying to move into a new apartment on top of that.

Did you know that summer doesn't last forever?



Today I saw a Western Tanager flying through Biola's campus. Western Tanagers are never resident in Southern California. They merely swing through on their way North or South. Last time I saw one at Biola was in May.

Yesterday Libby and I were at Bolsa Chica, but all the birds there are still summer birds. There are still wheeling flocks of terns around Tern Island. The only ducks are mallards. So, it's still summer, but now I know it won't last forever. The tanagers are headed home.

See this couple? They're getting married in 100 days! :-)

Here's something weird.

Biola in the News

The above news story is worth a read. It's about a woman named Joanne Perez, who has donated her estate to Biola. She and her husband were vaudville performers, and good friends of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball. A few times, her husband was actually on the show, and I remember him. He was a clown and rode a little bicycle.

Anyway, the bicyclces are owned by Biola now, and also their house. Their house is a victorian mansion in Santa Ana, which has dance studios in it. Funny. I know of a victorian mansion in Santa Ana with dance studios in it. It was two houses south of my middle school. Coincidence? Probably, but perhaps not!

Also interesting from the Water Cooler: there's a Biola student attempting to climb the highest point in every state this summer. He's trying to do it in 40 days, which would be a new record. Getting High

Now that's cool.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

You may not want to meet the mysterious Half-Blood Prince after dark in real life, but J.K. Rowling's book about him is interesting enough to keep you up long after dark, engrossed in another exciting story about Harry Potter and his battle against Voldemort. I was myself a victim of her enchantment last night, my nose stuck in the book until it finally came to its firm resolution. Of course, the resolution only left me wanting more, and the next book promises to be the most interesting yet.

I am a big fan of the Harry Potter series, in the sense that I read each one when it comes out as soon as I can, then completely forget the plot in time for the next one to come out, which I read immediately for the assured and ready entertainment. It's not deep literature, and it's not good literature, but it's the sort of fun and frothy read that reminds me of my childhood fantasies of adventure and danger. And that's far from worthless.

In fact, when I opened the book this last weekend, I was disappointed. The beginning was interesting in its own way, but it was rather atypical of Harry Potter's books, and it was also rather shockingly sub-par literarily. It's not that she doesn't grasp grammar or vocabulary, it's just that the images she presents are not presented beautifully or excellently. Many other authors have done better in that area.

What keeps you up late at night is the plot. Rowling's plots are delightful , and the language is almost an encumberment to their fast paced roll. It's amazing how fast you can read these books, I finished it in only snippets grabbed here and there from my busy schedule in 3 days. That's because it's the pace and action that grabs you, not the setting or commentary. Since I've been reading Doestoyevsky recently, this is quite shocking to me, but it's pretty typical of modern popular fiction, and I'm not going to complain.

Of course, good books change lives for the better, or at least communicate something uniquely that will nourish our souls. Does Rowling accomplish this with her latest adventure? I'm not sure. She has been weaving good themes into the books about self-sacrificial love, and in this way, at least, there is only good to be found in them. It is not a bad thing to educate people about that sort of thing, not at all!

As far as the infamous ending goes, I wasn't crushed, but that's because I saw it coming before I even read the book. There were some surprises, however, though you couldn't call them twists by any stretch of the imagination. Anyway, good read, I recommend it.

Several days ago, my friend Sarah posted her answers to an "If I could be..." game, and taggegd me to do the same. Because of my recent engagement to Jonathan, this spurred quite a long journal entry about "If I could be a wife..." I won't post all of it here, because it's long and also because I just don't know if I want to share with the entire world all my thoughts about what kind of wife I hope to be. But here's some of it:

If I could be a wife, I'd pray everyday for my husband. I'd pray for myself as well, that I'd be a kind, gentle, understanding, helpful wife.

If I could be a wife, I'd appreciate my husband and respect him, never taking for granted the blessing I had in him.

If I could be a wife, I'd want to make our home a refuge from a stressful world. I'd want my husband to look forward to coming home to me at the end of the day.

If I could be a wife, I'd pack my husband's lunches to take to work. And sometimes, I'd write a little note on the napkin.

If I could be a wife, I'd say "please" and "thank you" and "I'm sorry" a lot. 'Cause marriage is no reason to forget one's manners.

If I could be a wife, I wouldn't ever dishonor my husband by complaining about this or that habit of his behind his back. I was once in a work situation where a couple of the ladies I worked with were in the habit of telling everyone what they didn't like about their husbands. This made me sad, and I vowed never to do that.

If I could be a wife, I'd dust and vacuum and mop the floor so my husband woud have a clean, comfortable home to live in.

If I could be a wife, I'd surprise my husband every once in a while with a baked treat or his favorite meal.

And lastly...If I could be a wife, I'd sleep on the top bunk.

That one was for you, Jonathan. :-)
(It's a little joke we have...cause I've got these bunk beds, and the other day I was like, "Hey, when we're married, can I have the top bunk?")

This link is totally cool. In honor of the Moon landing, Google revealed today their new maps program.

It's worth a look!

Moon.Google

Make sure you check out the closest magnification.

Blue-Green Glow

Last night Libby and I decided to go and check out the Pacific's new-found bioluminescence. It was well worth the drive to Huntington Beach!

We got there around 9, and left a little before 10, so we weren't there that long, but it was very cool while we were there. At first, I didn't know what to expect. I hadn't ever seen it before, although I remember attempting to see it with my family a long time ago. That time, I remember, we figured we'd been stymied by the bright lights of the beach. So, this time, I decided to go to Bolsa Chica, which I figured would be a darker beach than the main city beach. It was darker, except for the moonlight. That's something you could only avoid by staying up really really late, though, and that's not something I'm interested in doing.

Anyway, it was really cool. Not every wave would glow, but a lot of them did. At first, most of the glow was way out at sea, any time there was a white cap, it would be blue-green. But, we walked down the beach a way, and we started seeing breakers glowing green. Since the violence is what excites the plankton, the color would race along the waves, right where it was folding over on itself. It created the illusion of surfing, which was cool.

There were a few times, after we'd been there awhile, that the min-breakers that form between the onrushing waves and the receding wash from a previous wave (in the very shallowest water) would suddenly glow bright green, right up next to us. That was cool, too.

Finally, I filled a bottle with the water. If you went somewhere completely dark and shook it, it would glow green, too! We brought the bottle home with us, and took it to show the roommates. The dinoflagellettes die without air, and then they'll stink, so when I was done with it, I poured it out into the toilet, which was actually really exciting. The froth it formed as it hit the bowl was brilliant green, and when I flushed it, the whole bowl turned a pale green as it went down the tubes.

Here's an OC Register article on the phenomenon.

Happy Happy Birthday!

Yesterday was one of my favorite days of the year: July 14. July 14 is Libby's birthday, and I like it so much because that's the day that I get to celebrate... Libby! Libby is one of my most very favorite things.



Happy birthday, Libby!

Libby and I have some news to share with our reading public. Some ... exciting ... news. Buckle your seatbelts!

This weekend, we took a little trip to Mammoth. Why? To see birds. Or at least, that's what Libby thought!

I like birds.

She likes birds. But that's not really the whole reason why we were going to Mammoth. The whole reason we were going to Mammoth included Love and Big Commitment. My plan had been to go to Mammoth to propose for quite some time, and this was the one open weekend at the cabin in July (the only month that I could get away from work this summer). So, I loaded up the car, and off we sped up highway 395.

I suspected at first that there might be another reason. A bigger reason. A better reason. But, Jonathan cleverly put me off the track (example: the night before we left he told me, "Man, I haven't even started getting ready for this trip yet!"). So, then I decided I must have been wrong to suspect. And I didn't want to expect and then be disappointed, so I put it out of my mind.

I really appreciate that she put it out of her mind. It made my job that much easier! Another clever thing (I thought) was to not wear my Torrey ring, but, to bring it with me in its box. That way I could carry around a ring box without arising suspicion. In casual conversation, I pointed out that I wasn't wearing my Torrey ring, but that it was in my backpack, and, to keep it safe, I had put it in its box. But, that night, I took the Torrey ring out of its box and put it on my finger, nesting in its place a shiny diamond ring intended for my sweetheart!

The next morning, we went for a little hike, and then drove around the Eastern Sierra looking at cool birds. Jonathan suggested stopping for lunch at an Aspen grove that we were planning on re-visiting anyway. We found it last summer when we went up there. It's a small grove in the middle of this sage field. It's like, where'd these tall, pretty trees come from? Like stepping into a fairy world. We had even seen a deer walking around in there. So it was a special memory place that we wanted to come back to. (During that first trip to the Aspen grove, I even thought, "this would be a great place to get engaged." So, that contributed to my initial suspicion.)

However, when we arrived at the grove, another car was parked there. I considered stopping anyway, and waiting for them to clear out, but I figured that might get awkward. It's a pretty small place, and it has a private feeling to it, so they probably wouldn't have appreciated our presence anyway (and it's a good thing we didn't stay then, 'cause I needed to go to the bathroom.) So, I decided to wait a little longer (that was pretty tough) and go on to Mono Lake for lunch, which is only a little further north on 395 from the Aspen Grove. We ate lunch near the shore, and then we decided to go birding at the County Park on the north end of the lake (fortunately, there was a bathroom there). That was pretty cool; there were a lot of neat birds that we saw there, including a Say's Phoebe (This one isn't necessarily all that spectacular, but it is a sort of joke between us. Anytime we see a brown bird, Jonathan says, "Maybe it's a Say's Phoebe!" and it never is. But this time, it really was.) and a Yellow-headed Blackbird! Then, we loaded back into the car and made our way back to the grove.

When we got to the grove, I wanted to take some pictures of it on my digital camera because last summer I didn't get any. My camera, however, was being difficult. After fiddling with the batteries a bit, I got a few pictures of the trees and one of us. (Afterwards, though, my camera totally broke so I don't have any of these.) (I was thinking, "stinking camera." I had more pressing matters occupying my thoughts.) I had no problem messing with the camera. I figured, "we're just here to hang out anyway, right?" Anyway, after getting those pictures that are now lost forever, we sat down and Jonathan read to me the newest chapter of a fairy-tale-like story he's been writing for me. This chapter was about some woods that he based on the Aspen grove. I thought this was very nice. And I thought that was it. But there was more to come.

There was more to come, but I wasn't sure how to get to it. I was pretty nervous by this point, and though I was able to keep my hand pretty steady while reading the story to her, I wasn't at all certain how to transition from the story to the ring. And I have to admit, by this point I was pretty befuddled. Finally, after finishing the story and pausing a little while, I said, "There's one more thing." And I reached into my backpack for my Torrey ring box.

His Torrey ring box. This was somewhat confusing for me. At first, I thought maybe he was playing some kind of joke (which I didn't find funny at all). When he got down on one knee I even said, "What are you doing?" But he didn't let it phase him.

I had this whole plan with the box that I just couldn't pull off. I had meant to throw it to her casually, and then cleverly persuade her to open it, all unsuspecting, to find the ring. But, as I said above, I was befuddled, and I decided the best course of action was the direct one. So, as I struggled to get the ring box out of the cardboard box, I got down on one knee and said something like, "Libby Moothart, I love you with all of my heart, and you're the love of my life. Will you [please] marry me?" (Afterwards, neither one of us could remember if he said please, but he intended to. That's nice. It's polite.) Her face expressed alarm, then happy surprise, and she fell into my arms. Which, I figured, was good.

I was so excited that I forgot to say "yes" for a while. But then I remembered.

She also forgot that I had to put the ring on her finger. I had to remind her about that. So, I took her left hand in mine, and we removed her purity ring, replacing it with a brand new diamond ring, sealing a great and special commitment. A commitment signifying and cementing a bond that's been developing between us since August 15, 2001, when we first met at Torrey Orientation at Biola. I'm looking forward to a long and happy future. :-)

Yeah. So now, we are engaged. To be married (to each other). As opposed to, say, being engaged in battle. Or engaged in criminal activity. We drove into town to get a calling card and some itch cream (there were lots of mosquitoes in the Aspen grove) and then back to the cabin to share our news with Jonathan's grandparents. (To whom Libby and I are very grateful for allowing us to visit the cabin! Thank you!) His grandpa now refers to the Aspen grove as "the loooove vortex."

Soon (November) this blog will be another Rowley Family Blog. So, stay tuned!

Last night, Jonathan and I climbed up on the roof of his two-storey house; there was no ladder involved, just two adventuresome spirits and a pinch of ingenuity. There we watched fireworks light up the sky in all directions. Quite spectacular. And neither one of us fell off and died; though Jonathan did give me a bit of a scare at one point (he had it all under control, though, folks).

This is a good picture of Libby and I from the ones that she posted.



We are so going to get that milk!

I think it reveals our frolicsome spirit.

Lem has posted a link on his blog to the pictures he took from the Guenther wedding. Check them out, yo.

Since I graduated from College, I basically have shut down my brain. Now it's beginning to come back on-line, having recovered from its late exertion, and has been occupied with evil.

That's because I've been reading The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Doestoyevsky, and it is startling how convincing his portrayal of the brothers are. I'm about 2/5ths of the way through it at the moment (for those of you familiar with the book, this is the part in which the narrarator records Alyosha's recording of the Elder's discourse about himself).

It's amazing how good the Elder is, and how evil someone like, say, Ivan, Dmitry or his father is. And you get the impression that even darling Aleksey has something inside of him that is Karamazovian. I suppose that I, too, am a Karamazov.

It is sure to me that there is no good on earth that cannot be corrupted by man, and that no man on earth can save all the goods on earth by his own power. It is only by the Grace of God that nature is preserved, and the only incorruptible things on this earth are miraculous gifts that he gives us. Because we are just that screwed up.

Check out the Horton Web Cam!

http://www.biola.edu/webcam/BiolaWebCam_v18.htm

Friends don't let friends drive away from their wedding reception in a plain car. We're good friends.

Dude. There was a chocolate fountain!

I found the handsomest groomsman and sat by him.

This is the origami box that I learned how to make. And that is my See's Candy sucker.

Joe spent the reception folding origami boxes...and teaching some of us how to do the same. By the way, that is not a cigarette he's got; it's a See's Candy sucker.

And here's the happy couple at the reception. Sure, you could make lots of jokes about their height difference, but the long and the short of it is...eh, never mind.

As promised, I bring you pictures from the Guenther wedding. To start us off, here is one of Katie getting ready with a couple of trusty bridesmaids, Heather and Catherine...in the toddler room at the church.

One of my roommates for two years, Katie Fisher, is getting married today. It's kind of a bitter-sweet thing for me and Bethany (my other roommate of two years). We're very happy for Katie and Dustin. They're about to enter a wonderful new phase of their lives and bind themselves to one another for as long as they both shall live. But we're sad to see her go. This apartment has been a real blessing to all of us, and it's not going to be the same. We've actually had a 4th roommate all along, but each semester that person has changed. Katie is the first of us "constant three" to leave, so it's going to be really different. The three of us, especially, have really had a special community, and at no other time in our lives will it be like this. But that's ok. In fact, it's good! This is the way it ought to be. I mean, c'mon, it would be really weird if the three of us were still living in this apartment together when we were 40. Katie and Dustin will be starting their own new community, population: 2. And for Pete's sake, it's not like we'll never see them again! The community we've had isn't being dissolved, just altered.

So, this afternoon, Bethany and I will wear long periwinkle dresses and stand up on stage with Katie, who will be looking the most beautiful she's ever been. And it'll be a very good day.

P.S. Jonathan will be wearing a tux with a periwinkle vest and standing up on stage with Dustin, with whom he has roommed for 3 years.
P.P.S. Maybe I'll post some pictures of this event.

My left leg got quite a workout tonight.

See, I learned how to drive stick shift. Well, here's the thing: I'm obviously not what you would call great at it, but I've got the basics. I drove around on the streets for a while (I started in a big empty parking lot and stayed there till I was more comfortable with it) and got up to 4th gear. There's still lots to learn, of course (for example: hills). But it's a start. And it was really fun! Ok, well honestly, there was a while at the beginning when it was not fun; it was pretty frustrating. That's when I kept making the same kind of mistake over and over and couldn't figure out how to fix it. It's no fun to try to learn something and not be making progress. But once I got past that it was really exciting!

And Jonathan is very helpful and patient. :-)

Here is a heart-wrenching story about some people trying to save a life, despite great tragedy:

http://www.washtimes.com/national/20050616-121815-6990r.htm

http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2005-06-15-saving-baby-cover_x.htm

This is the story of Susan Torres, a woman whose brain recently stopped functioning due to malignant melanoma. They are keeping her body alive so she can bring her unborn baby to 25 weeks, at which point it has a chance of survival. It's heart-wrenching, and if someone has the means, there are ways (available in the article) to help alleviate the hospital bills, anyway.

We can also pray.

This is such a good summer. Jonathan and I get to spend lots of time together...every day (imagine that!). It's sooo much better than last semester. And the semester before that. And come to think of it, it's a whole lot better than last summer too (when I was working late on weekdays and even several weekends). So, basically, life is really good.

I just finished reading Lilith by George MacDonald. That is a good book; I definitely recommend it. Parts of it were a little slow-going for me, but the overall story is just great. The end is especially beautiful. I now have a better understanding of why C.S. Lewis chose George MacDonald as his guide through Heaven in The Great Divorce. Maybe I'll reread that next.

Here's a picture of the cabin, with a fallen tree in front.

And this is Lake Mary. Still has ice on it!

Here are some pictures from Mammoth, taken recently by Dave and Beth Lowe. It's June. And there's still snow. Crazy. Look how pretty it is, though! This is Emerald Lake.

This is for Elementary PE teachers everywhere:

Here's a game where no one loses--footsies. Seriously, folks. Have you ever heard someone say, "I was playing footsies the other day, but I lost pretty bad." ??? No, of course not! Everyone wins! So, that makes it a great candidate for Elementary PE. Everyone can participate, and no one loses. Of course, to keep it modest, the girls would need to wear long pants so their ankles remain covered. Clearly. And before begininng, everyone could do toe-curls or something to warm up.

This post makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean, are you imagining it? Do you see the little kids lined up playing footsies? That's just wrong.

But it makes me laugh. Is that bad?

Biola's Bookstore is having its "Buy it so we don't have to count it" sale this week. It started Monday and I don't know when it ends. It's 30% off all store merchandise... plus a 10% staff discount! So it was 40% off (they take the 10% off the pre-sale price).

I bought some cool books at it:

1. The Princess and Curdie - macdonald
2. The Princess and the Goblin - macdonald
3. Lilith - macdonald
4. Phantastes - macdonald
5. Norton's selection of Tennyson's poetry - tennyson
6. selected essays: rennaissance and medieval literature - c.s. lewis

I can't remember what else I bought, but I'm pretty much the most excited about Tennyson. I am going to have to take a Saturday morning and set it aside to read "In Memoriam." Alright! More great English poetry!

At the moment, I'm trying to read The Brothers K. 30 pages in, the spectre of its continuing for another several thousand is daunting, but the translation is engaging, and I can see some interesting things coming along.

Libby and I just finished reading On the Shores of Silver Lake (Laura Ingalls Wilder). That was a pretty good Little House book. I liked it. Laura Ingalls caught a glimpse of Almanzo Wilder! Gasp! We'll have to see what develops!

Next we will read King Lear together. It is the greatest Shakespeare that we haven't read, and so it's a must-read. I read the first scene recently and I liked it a lot. Poor Cordelia. I am looking forward to this the most of all the books that I'm reading. This year I've come to appreciate Shakespeare for what he really is: the best author ever to write in our language. There are a few really great books, and fewer great authors. Shakespeare is ours! There's so much to learn from him! Richard III was so amazing to get into. I don't understand the half of it yet, but I can see enough to be awed.

After we finish Lear we are going to read the Silver Chair, and then we will read the next Little House book. We're rotating our way through the Narnia series and the Little House series. The Narnia books take less time to read, I think because the chapters are longer.

We are so literary.

Well, it's now been one week since Libby and I graduated from Biola University. No longer college students, we struggle for existence against the waves of debt and difficulty flowing from supporting one's self in this topsy-turvy world.

Ha ha, no it's pretty good so far. We get to see each other a lot more than we did in the semester.

I'm adjusting to my new job. Libby's calling for the Academy (she's recruited the most applicants!) and tutoring.

Because our schedule is so much more regular now, I seem to have a lot less time to use the internet, so I don't really have all that much time to post. But that's ok, I'll find time to post if anything important occurs to me or happens to me. And I'm sure Libby will, too.

One down, one to go.

Jonathan and I both graduated from the Torrey Honors Institute at Biola University this afternoon. It was a lovely ceremony. Father David, from Blessed Sacrament, was the speaker and did a fabulous job. We also recieved our very cool silver rings with the inscription: Bonvm Veritas Pvlcher (Good, True, Beautiful).

Tomorrow morning is the big Biola graduation. It will be much longer. And much more boring. And we won't get cool rings. But we'll shake Dr. Cook's hand and be recognized as college graduates. And that's pretty cool too.

*sigh* At last.

I'm printing my thesis. I'm pretty disappointed in it, but I learned a lot about how to write long papers, anyway.

Next a title page, then the bibliography is to be printed.

Then I guess I'll go to bed, though Dustin and I are competing at the moment to see who will stay up the longest tonight. He had said that he would go to bed at 3:00, but that time has past.

Now for graduation stuff. My first rehearsal is tomorrow: that's for Torrey.

Next time I go to work I'll be the boss. I'm looking forward to learning a lot about managment and communicating. I imagine there will be tough times, but I'm gonna head into 'em straight on!

This morning I took the CSET (California Subject Examination Test): Multiple Subjects. It includes three subtests: 1. Language, Reading, Literature; History and Social Science 2. Math and Sciences 3. Physical Education, Human development, Visual and Performing Arts. The subtests can be taken on separate days, or all at once. I decided to take it all and get it over with. Reporting time was 7:30am, at Magnolia High School in Anaheim. When I got to the classroom where I was assigned, I took my seat and got signed it. By 7:35, everyone who was there was signed in, but we couldn't start the test till 8:00, because people would be coming in late, yadda-yadda-yadda. So we were all just sitting there, everyone pretty stressed and wanting to somehow jump five hours ahead to when the test would be over. I figured it might be nice to get out of my seat for a few minutes. So, I walked over near the door where there was a globe (we were obviously in a history classroom: maps on the walls and a poster with all the U.S. Presidents, etc.) and started slowly turning it and looking at it. I was probably up there for about 5 minutes before the lady who was administering the test came over and said, "Would you please take a seat?" I said, "Oh, sure. I just thought I'd review a little geography," and walked back to my seat. She wasn't amused, but several other people in the room chuckled and started talking, and I felt that I had helped to lighten the tension a bit.

The test itself went pretty well. I'm all but certain I passed all three subtests, and I'm very glad to have it over with. One of the essay questions was almost identical to one that I had read in my test prep book a few days ago (with a sample answer and everything) so that was great. Another essay question, in the Human Development section, dealt with something that we just talked about in my Child Development class on Thursday. There's about a thousand things they could have asked (that I would have had a much harder time writing an essay on), so to have some that I was so prepared for was an answer to prayer.

"What you are stepping Westward?"

Yesterday, Libby and I stepped toward the setting sun. When Libby pointed out our westward wanderings, I replied "What you are stepping westward?" The awkward construction of the sentence fairly obscures the meaning, but it also makes it stick in my mind. The line is good, but it is not my own; it is by the masterful poet William Wordsworth. I have read it many times, and I had just read it the other day when we stepped westward ourselves. The preface of this poem, as my memory serves me, says that Wordsworth and a friend were walking in the Lake District when two well dressed ladies met them and asked them if they were stepping westward.

VII. STEPPING WESTWARD

"What, you are stepping westward?"--"Yea."
--'Twould be a 'wildish' destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of Chance:
Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,
Though home or shelter he had none,
With such a sky to lead him on?

The dewy ground was dark and cold;
Behind, all gloomy to behold;
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of 'heavenly' destiny:
I liked the greeting; 'twas a sound
Of something without place or bound;
And seemed to give me spiritual right
To travel through that region bright.

The voice was soft, and she who spake
Was walking by her native lake:
The salutation had to me
The very sound of courtesy:
Its power was felt; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky,
The echo of the voice enwrought
A human sweetness with the thought
Of travelling through the world that lay
Before me in my endless way.

The experience that I had yesterday with Libby was a mirror of the experience Wordsworth had with these two ladies. The words of Wordsworth added a significance to our walk, just like the ladies' words had added significance to his walk. Isn't it amazing how a poet can take a quick interchange of words, and ring out of it a beautiful contemplation? And, while contemplating this question, be doing the thing that he's examining? Awesome.

My Thoughts on The Revenge of the Sith

This movie is not perfect. But it exceeded my expectations, and I would qualify my expectations by saying that they had been buoyed by the positive feedback that I'd been hearing before I went. So it exceeded my a little more than modest expectations for its success, whatever that's worth. Thanks to Libby for coming with me to see it despite the late hour!

In my opinion, the movie's greatest strength was making Anakin Skywalker's character realistic. I felt that his change was, in the moral universe of the movie, natural considering his character and the decisions that he made. All this despite the bad acting on the part of Hayden Christensen. I really felt for Darth Vader's change, but at the same time, the depths to which he plummeted helped me to understand just how Obi Wan could tell Luke that Skywalker was dead. He really is so evil that it seems like the man he used to be is just totally gone.

Now I want to watch the Return of the Jedi again and see why Luke didn't change. And see how well the vision of Anakin's character returns in the last decisions of Vader's reform.

Other positives:

The movie connected with me pretty powerful on an emotional level several times. Unlike Steven Spielberg, I didn't cry, but I could see why he would. At points, and at the end, I felt sick. It's very sad.

The light-saber scenes were all enjoyable. There are things that you could complain about (Hard to see what's going on occasionally) but they were still thrilling. The Obi Wan/Anakin battle doesn't disappoint, and neither does the Yoda/ Palpatine battle.

Yoda is awesome again. His character manages to inject humor into the movie despite the totally serious themes.

Mace Windu's one light saber battle is really cool.

I thought some of the ways it weaved its ethical points around the narrative were creative and interesting. At one critical point, enemies are calling each other traitors. While it's clear at the time who is the real traitor, there's plausible amiguity within the story (Palpatine weilds power like Richard III). But by the next scene, the awful implications of that belief are brought home with the most disgusting and treacherous sequence of the whole movie. Simple and effective.

An important consideration:

It's not a children's movie. If you're under 13, don't go. It has one moment that is very graphic.

Negatives:

We see Jar Jar's face. He doesn't lose it.

Bad dialogue. At times, it's really bad.

Bad acting. How can Natalie Portman be the same actress from Garden State? This is why I think the script might be the cause of a lot of the bad acting. There are good actors in this movie. I'd say Samuel L. Jackson does the best job, overall.

Lots of computer graphics. At times it was distracting, and on the whole Lucas obviously went overboard. (on the whole though, by the end, the story had mostly removed my complaints about this)

There are some saggy moments in the plot. Generally that's because of the bad dialogue and acting that we're conscious of during the still moments.

I thought the ending was a little cheesy. It was very self-consciously making connections that would set up Episode IV. I don't think that they were justified by this movie of itself, which seems a weakness to me.

Alright. My recommendation: if you like Star Wars, you have to see it. If you don't like Star Wars at all, you might not like it. If you like fun action movies, you'll probably appreciate it.

This past weekend, I had the privilege of taking a road trip up to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with the Marine Biology class. Now, I'm not taking Marine Biology. But the professor is the same one that teaches my Ornithology class, and he thought it would be a good chance for us to get to see some birds that we wouldn't see down here. I was the only one that took him up on the offer to tag along, and I'm very glad I did. I've actually been there once before, last spring when I took Marine Biology, but it's such an amazing place that I couldn't pass up another free trip to see it (Biola pays our admission).

We left on friday afternoon and planned to stop for dinner at In-N-Out in Santa Maria.Then, one of the students, Andrew (who is from Santa Maria), got a call from his mom saying that she wanted to have us over for dinner. So, we stopped there for a yummy meal of pizza, chopped fruit, green salad, Snapples, and freshly baked cookies. As we drove off to continue our trip up the coast, Andrew's parents stood in the driveway and waved goodbye until we were out of sight. It looked like it was straight out of Leave it to Beaver or something. So great.

We got to the camp ground after dark and set up our tents as quickly as we could. I wouldn't mention the camping bit, except that somewhat of an adventure came of it the next morning. There were two tents of girls: four in each. The girls in my tent kept our shoes inside the tent overnight. The girls in the other tent left their shoes outside. And when we got up in the morning, those four girls were each short one pair of shoes. I couldn't believe it! Somebody stole three pairs of women's flip-flops and one pair of tennis shoes (the tennis shoes were quite expensive. If it weren't for the loss of that $80 pair of shoes, it would have been completely hilarious. As it was, it was still pretty amusing.) So, we took down the tents and headed to Longs to buy flip-flops for our barefooted buddies.

Breakfast was at a place called First Awakenings, which makes the best pancakes I've ever had. One takes up the whole plate, and is enough to satisfy most hungry stomachs. If you're ever up by the aquarium, you should definitely eat there.

The aquarium itself was of course amazing. Among the best exhibits are the otters, the tuna (those guys are big and can move really fast!), and the Jellyfish exhibit entitled Jellies: Living Art. My favorite of the jellies is the Comb Jelly. It's amazing to me that something like that exists. They're simply fascinating.

I also saw a few new birds during the trip: the Yellow-billed Magpie, the Pelagic Cormorant, and the Pigeon Guillemot.

This aquarium is just great--everyone should visit it at least once in their life. It's the #1 aquarium, and the #3 top-rated family attraction in the country. So, go; take the kids.

Libby and I are reading the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. This is one of the best of the Chronicles of Narnia, but it is also one of the strangest. There is no crisis for which the children are drawn to Narnia, yet it is done without their willing. This is unique. If one is left to consider the theme of the book, natural questions come to mind that do not in any other work. Why are the children brought to Narnia? What happens that requires them? Or are they brought there for their own sake?

I am not sure yet, though I have begun to find some answers.

Today we read the chapter about the Island where Dreams Come True. As a child, this chapter was one of the most frightening of the book, not because I could relate to any experience like it, but because it suggested to my imagination a kind of experience worse than pretty much any other could ever be. It didn't really connect with me because I always thought Lewis was wrong. I do not have nightmares that often, and have had many pleasant dreams. This time through, I noticed he did not make an exhaustive claim regarding the nature of "real dreams." The idea is just that you have some dreams that are so bad that you would never want to have the good ones come if it meant the bad ones would come true, too.

Anyway, this aside, the chapter is likely one of the best in the book, and it is also one of the most self-consciously literate.

The premise of the chapter, of course, is that the Dawn Treader is confronting a strange new adventure. For several days in front of them, a blackness they took to be an island loomed closer and closer. As they got within a few feet, they stopped rowing and would not have entered it but for the insistance of Reepicheep. He blames their reluctance on cowardice (rightly so?) and urges them further in. Why? Not for the sake of any use, he answers Drinian, but to seek out adventures for their own sake. That is, Reepicheep is convinced that one must live in such a way that, facing all life's obstacles courageously, an intrinsic good will follow if one is faithful. This strikes me as a Christian sentiment, and the chapter comes off as a very Christian meditation on fear, human evil, and salvation.

When the boat has pressed on for about five minutes (or so says Drinian) into the darkness, they hear the voice of a man who has almost lost his humanity for terror. Upon saving him, he tells them the fear of the place, and the ship immediately begins to flee. Reepicheep protests, but Caspian silences him. Why? Because there are some fears that no man can face.

It occurs to me that the fear no man can face is the fear of himself. Since a dream is a manifestation of hidden internal beliefs or lies, or what-ever, facing one is facing one's worst parts. To this task, no one is able (save perhaps the noble Reepicheep). So, the men fly. They fly as fast as they can, but it is to no avail. They cannot escape. They row longer than it should have taken to escape, but the darkness leaves them no way of finding a way out.

Up to now, the literary parrallel is that of Dante in the Dark Wood. The enterprising pilgrim attemps to reach the peak of the mountain by himself, but it is manifestations of his own sin that chases him down it. He cannot reach Paradise by his own work: it is only through the aid of the love of God that he can be granted salvation. So far, this parrallel (I imagine it is intended) is clear.

What happens next is straight from Dante. Dante is met by Virgil, but why is Virgil there? Because St. Lucy prayed for him. Lucy is the patron saint of light (her day in the Church calendar is the shortest of the year), and Lewis has his character with that name pray for their salvation. The result? Light from heaven streams down onto the ship, and descending through it is a cross-shaped bird: the albatross.

The albatross is the most obvious literary allusion in the book. It's a play on Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, something every English school boy of his age would have read. In the Mariner story, the albatross saves the crew of an unlucky ship that stumbles into an antarctic fog and can't get out. So, the mariner kills it. Disastrous consequences soon follow. The albatross was an innocent and a savior, and it was killed. There is no punnishment sufficeint for it, except that the mariner must work to prevent such sins from happening again for the rest of his life (his freedom is completely taken away). Anyway, I take the albatross to be some kind of image of the saving power of nature. Left there, we'd wonder why Lewis chose the image. But he didn't leave the image as he found it.

The albatross is Aslan. He makes this very clear. So, here it is not nature saving us, but God saving us. There is no doubt left in your mind that this is a natural occurence at all. I imagine that the natural imagery works to his advantage because grace perfects nature. Aslan is a better albatross than Coleridge's; he's God after all.

So, why was this chapter written? Because Lewis wants to habituate our souls into finding the truth. In this case, the truth is that we have such hideous evil within us that we will never find salvation (or more broadly perhaps moral improvement of any kind) on our own. It requires the supernatural aid of our benevolent God, and his intercessory action flowing from the life giving prayers of our loved ones. Reading a story like this will make us more likely to look for such aid when confronting difficult problems in our life. This is the sort of book Eustace should have read his whole life.

It is the "right sort of book."

Here's an article from Christianity Today about the morality of Wal-Mart. This is an issue that has touched me, as I have heard the arguments against Wal-Mart. For awhile I have been reluctant to shop there. This fellow sort of lays out the debate.

Deliver Us From Wal-Mart?

The most serious issue in my mind is the allegation of sweatshop work; especially since they are said to use children. It sounds like Wal-Mart needs to work on that more, and that the problem has been pretty consistent. I would agree with the author that independent inspectors, such as those used by Nike, would be an excellent move on their part. It sounds good that the Methodist Church has invested in Wal-Mart. It's given them a more powerful say in the reforming of their poor business policies.

Praise the Lord!

I have a job. I will be working as assistant manager of Residential Facilities at Biola starting May 31st.

These are my baby thoughts on Shakespeare and Providence. I gotta put em somewhere! They're burning inside me.

As I sat at my computer today, a connection struck me that, unfortunately, hadn't yet. I am glad that it has now, and so I am trying to make sense of it. It was the connection between Hamlet, and its theme of Providence, and Richard III and its theme of Providence. Both plays, obviously among Shakespeare's very best, treat of this difficult subject. Why? Is it accidental that Shakespeare's best works touch on this? Or is it an important part of the tapestry of his mind?

It occured to me today in class that a Greek tragedy would provide a possible interpretive model for Richard III. Take Oedipus for an example: he strove against the gods, and against fate, and failed. He ends up gouging out his eyes. Why? Because the truth that he finds is so terrible. Perhaps it would have been better if he had left it alone. But the real connection comes, for me, from the last play in the Oedipus trilogy. Oedipus at Colonus shows a response to fate that seems archetypal. The spiritual resignation of Oedipus reminded me very much of Clarence's reaction to his dream. It seems proper given fatalism.

But that's why Stanley is so interesting. And this is a Christian play.

That just throws it all up in the air for me. Is Shakespeare attempting a Christian version of Oedipus? Who is resigned to fate? Who is not? Are they virtuous because of their resignation? There are many questions to be asked.

As I sat at my computer today something touched a memory of Hamlet, and so I ran over these lines in my head:

There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; If it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

I love these lines because they're tricky, thick, and poetic. But I think they're also important to Shakespeare's understanding of providence. The idea, I admit, is not mine. It comes from C.S. Lewis' essay: "Hamlet: The Prince or the Poem." I haven't read it in a long time, but I thought it was good when I did, and the idea that Hamlet resigns himself somehow to Providence seemed convincing to me. It's helpful in explaining his delaying, and his subsequent decision to act. Lewis argued that those lines above were the critical ones in understanding Hamlet's character. That seems insightful to me, though perhaps it is not the final word.

But if Shakespeare thought that then, does he think it when he wrote Richard III? Can we expect to find the same theme? I suspect so, and so I have hope in understanding Richard III: this is a place to start.

I don't think it's the sum, though, of the ideas in Richard III. There is so much more! The curses are so eminently present. There is no doubt left to the audience, by the end, regarding the outcome of the play. But this is typical of Shakespeare: think Romeo and Juliet. At the beginning of that play they let us know what is going to happen, and then we just enjoy the ride. Zach's comment in class regarding Richard's enjoying the events may touch on this theme. But I don't understand that at all. How can that be? How can there be moral responsibility? What view of Providence IS THIS? It's hard for me to believe that Shakespeare is a Calvinist, but it may be true.

Dropping these considerations, something else occurred to me almost simultaneously on remembering the Hamlet quote. I'll put it phere.

Providence is a natural subject for a good playwrite, and especially Shakespeare.

There are several reasons for this. First, all great artists in a genre look to the artists before them when considering their art. You can't help but do it: every epic poem consciously has to respond to any other epic poem existing in that society (Virgil trumps Homer to be trumped by Dante). Shakespeare often consciously appeals to the great Greek Tragedians when he is considering his art (many examples, Henry V is one), and how can you not treat of Providence if you want to follow in their footsteps (and surpass them! Which he does. Shakespeare's a better playwrite than the Greeks and he probably knows it).

A second reason is simple, but more important. A play, as an image of life (Aristotle's Poetics) has to deal with Providence. The actors are not free. They are constrained by a playwrite, his text, and a director. So, as an image of life their very genre lends them a natural image with which they have to deal. If life is free, how do you portray it with constrained actors? If it's not, how do you draw this image to the attention of the audience? I'm reminded of the comedy As You Like It. There are so many levels in that play, and it is the play (coincidentally?) wherein Jacques makes that famous "The world's a stage..." speech. This insight is fresh for my mind at the moment, and seems relevant to Richard III. Richard III wields great power because he feels free to exist on any level that is necessary for his aim. He can lie, dissemble, etc. And in the end, it's to no end. He can't be God, after all. And, ironically, God has been using him the whole time to work out the Justice that Margaret has called upon.

Check out the trailer for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe movie, coming out in December. It looks pretty cool!

I've really been slacking with the blog lately, sorry guys.

I gave the lecture today in my Ornithology class, on social behavior in birds. As I was preparing for the lecture, I found out something very interesting regarding social status and dominant behavior within species. Plumage has a lot to do with it. For example: the male Harris's Sparrow has black markings under it's chin and onto it's chest. Males with more defined black markings are dominant, and males with spotty markings are subordinate. And they fit into a pecking order with several levels based upon this. Dominant birds get first dibs on space, mates, and food. Subordinate individuals yield to the dominant ones, and everyone lives in peace. Now for the interesting story. There was a study done, where some subordinate Harris's Sparrows were taken, and their feathers under the chin and on the chest were dyed black so that they resembled a dominant individual. This is what happened to them: the actual dominant individuals started attacking them, because they represented a threat to their status. Instead of fighting back, which would have allowed these subordinate birds (who looked dominant) to climb in rank and actually become more dominant, they backed off becuase they don't have aggressive tendancies like dominant birds do. So it pretty much just confused them. "I've always been so good at yielding to the dominant birds. Why are they attacking me? Leave me alone!" I thought it was kind of a funny story.


This one, for example, looks like it would be one of the more dominant individuals. Look at all that black! Man!



This one is a little scanty. He'd be more subordinate. Sorry, dude.