Honey From The Rock

My brother graduated this past weekend, and since it was West Point, they have an entire week of pomp and ceremony, which is really quite cool. I'm uber proud of my big brother; four years have flown by though and I can't believe that West Point is finished for  him and he is now looking forward to his marriage THIS Saturday. Can you believe it? That kid who taught me how to sled, to be brave, to look forward to eternity instead of here, is getting married. Crazy. Crazy.   My family, so obviously quirky and flawed and unusual. I love them a lot and this picture reminds me of  that. Again, quirky. (a nice way to say weird. I swear every family photo we take could make it into that Awkward Family Photos book. At least here we weren't trying to be normal).  We three represented the family at the formal banquet where Michelle Obama spoke. Her speech was actually very good; conservative (probably aware of the majority of the audience: gun-carrying, independent, most-likel

This is my dinner and my pre-dinner reading. I didn’t actually cook this splendid meal; it was my mother.  It was truly amazing. Rice and steak stir-fry with red and yellow peppers on top and cooked cabbage on the side.  I love cabbage. It makes me feel uber-German and reminds me of fogged up windows from dinner simmering on the stove, my dad coming in after work, hungry for dinner and family quiet; my mom in the kitchen cooking; my brothers and I waiting and happy.    A lot of people don’t like cabbage, but they should… 1. It tastes really good; just add salt. 2. “ This food is very low in Saturated Fat and Cholesterol. It is also a good source of Protein, Thiamin, Calcium, Phosphorus and Copper, and a very good source of Dietary Fiber, Vitamin A, Vitamin C, Vitamin B6, Folate, Magnesium, Potassium and Manganese.” That’s a direct quote from http://nutritiondata.self.com/facts/vegetables-and-vegetable-products/2376/2 . Yeah, you saw it here. 3. While eating cabbage, you

My friend, who reads, told me that all the great writers say that writing is work; you have to discipline yourself to do it everyday (or something like that). This past semester I have realized that I can't leave writing out of my life; it keeps turning up and I've discovered how much I love it. So I've embraced it, perhaps naively, maybe subconsciously thinking that writing would come easy for me. But this summer I have challenged myself to not only embrace my dream of writing, but embrace the work of writing (because Annie Dillard is probably right about all the work involved). I want to stop simply talking about the act of writing, but get my hands a little dirty and actually write enough to get frustrated with it. When I write academic papers, for some reason I always use the metaphor of churning butter. (weird, I know) I can churn out an academic paper, but creative, descriptive writing is different. It transcends the level of simple communication to the level of aes

I have one achievement of today. I finished Toni Morrison's Beloved , a book I was given by a retiring professor of mine. He had told me that he was cleaning out his bookshelves, and so on a Wednesday morning, after class and between tornado sirens, I waited outside his office with a few other steadfast students. After his meeting ended, we slipped in and ransacked his bookshelves while he leaned back in his desk chair and issued his usual insightful but semi-caustic commentary on our choices. When I left, he laughed and shook his head, saying that my parents would hate him for all the books I was leaving with. But elated, I ended up hauling two bags of books back to my dorm room. Beloved  was gripping, well-written but dark. I could clearly see man's depravity but also the grayness between good and evil in the story. It was gritty and real, shocking and almost overwhelming at points, but good. I like those kind of stories, that see life and face its reality. But the story al

Happy Mother's Day! This is my mom, my brother, and I, in commemoration of what my mom has given me and both of my brothers (and its not just insanely curly hair, either). She's been a blessing, a teacher, a friend, and a beautiful picture of Christ.

Today I am returned from school, and my summer has officially begun. My last two weeks have been strange; home for Easter, back to school only to hide from tornadoes, be evacuated, say goodbye, and drive home for a week with my roommate, A. And then only to come back this weekend for graduation. But now, graduation is over, Allie has returned to Charlotte, I am home and my summer is here. I know summer is here when I sit in silence and don’t notice it. At school there is always something to listen to or something not to listen to. Always noise or an intentional absence of noise. But at home, my family lives with silence. It is part of us. I’m not really sure if this is just a feature of living in a real house, not a dorm, or this is a quirk of my family. I know we (oddly) do not talk when we eat or drive in the car; it’s almost unnatural when we’re all together. Rarely is there natural, easy conversation around meals. I’m not sure if it’s a habit built in from both of my parents grow