What a great Christmas we've had!
On Christmas Eve, we had vespers service at church, and the choir performed some neat arrangements of traditional carols (most of which only had the same words, not melody). I truly enjoyed singing them and loved the beautiful songs. I have to interject here: I had been having lots of trouble with my voice, which I talked with some of you about before. I have always enjoyed singing, and usually think of myself as talented in that area. But for the last three years or so, I've had trouble with going hoarse very soon after I begin to sing. I lived with it for awhile, thinking it'd go away. But it didn't. So I went to a specialist and discovered it was my acid reflux that was damaging my voice. Now I sure wish I hadn't waited so long, because perhaps it wouldn't have done so much damage and wouldn't be as difficult to heal.
He prescribed me medication, but I just couldn't see taking pills every day for the rest of my life, much less think of all the side effects of those meds. So I began looking for an alternative. Could it possibly be as simple as another doctor told me about? She said apple cider vinegar. Every day take a tablespoon. Yeah, it's an acid, seems counter-intuitive. But it's been proven to prevent all kinds of ailments of the throat/esophagus, like esophageal cancer. So I tried it. I've gone through more than one 16 ounce bottle of the stuff! I recommend Braggs--I had tried what I had on hand (never tried it in such a raw form before, so I didn't know what it *really* tasted like) but when I ran out I got Braggs, which was less expensive than what I'd been using, and tastes....almost good, quite zippy. I mix one tablespoon with a tablespoon of honey, then add about 1/2 cup warm water. Drink it down--yeah, I still have to choke it down. But it seems to be working. My voice still isn't full-throttle, but on Christmas Eve I was able to sing for the whole service plus the carols without going hoarse, in better voice than I've been in a very long time.
Anyway, after church on Christmas Eve, Paul was going to stop for stocking stuffers and other stuff we needed desperately (how did we get down the dregs of shampoo? Fortunately, we seemed to have Judah Maccabee's shampoo bottle, which continued to give even when we thought for sure it was done). But, as we were to find out, all the stores had closed at 6! Even Fred Meyers, which was the sign of sure impending doom. If Freddies was closed, surely we would find no place open. What were we to do for stocking stuffers? We had some mandarin oranges. But that seemed quite bleak. Paul said, weren't you thinking of making divinity? I said, yeah, but there's NO way of making divinity vegan for Hibi. BUT! I remembered seeing on
Vegan Lunch Box a recipe for fudge. I went looking for it, and found I had all the necessary ingredients on hand! Yes! The stockings were saved. ;-) The kids *loved* the fudge.
Christmas morning! I don't know how, but I managed to not get any pictures of Christmas or the day after. :-( Zac got a didgeridoo, and Hibi a wooden flute (both made by the same Ukrainian Catholic man we met at the
Portland Saturday Market). Hibi also got a pair of pirate earrings (silver hoops) which violated our one-present-each rule, but everyone thought it was a good idea. :-) Paul got a piece of Asian art. And I got the interesting gift. As we were walking through the Saturday market, we were telling each other what we'd like to receive from there. I said I'd like artwork, either a painting or a photo. I was thinking of one of those beautiful photos of Mt. Hood, all bedecked with snow or wildflowers (or both). They did get me a photo, but not of Mt. Hood.
I had told Paul that I had a pretty frame that his mom had given me years ago for Christmas, but I never had anything to put in it. It's decorated with dried flowers. I told him he could use it if he wanted to. He liked the idea.
So, when I opened my gift, it was in the dried flower frame. But it was a black and white photo. It was taken at a war protest in 2002, in Portland. It shows a police line, policemen all decked out in riot gear, armed to the teeth. Standing at the police line is a young woman, dressed like she's ready for a night on the town. But with a pink Hello Kitty bag. She is just standing at the line, staring contemplatively across the police line toward the officers.
On the back of the photo the photographer has written that it was at the protest in 2006, where there was a peaceful protest of the war, in which there was no violence on the part of the protesters, but the police used force all the same. Shame. My children wrote on the back as well: "where have all the flowers gone?"
After gifts it was time for church. We had liturgy and then home for a quick breakfast and time to get the house ready for guests! We invited two sets of people over for dinner: one was a family that the church has been helping to get on their feet. They moved here recently from Denver and had no place to live and nothing to put in a place to live, such as furniture. They have a 13 year old son and an almost-two year old daughter. Unfortunately, the mother wasn't feeling well and she wasn't able to come. The other set of people who came were some folks from the Catholic Worker house whom we've connected with recently. Two staff members and two residents came for dinner. They take in women who are transitioning from prison or homelessness. It was kind of quiet, sometimes awkward, for these people are in difficult situations and cannot just snap out of it in order to have a good Christmas. But it was good in it's own way and we're glad we had them over. My kids had fun with the two other children--they played chess with the 13 year old, and enjoyed playing with the 2 year old with toys they hadn't gotten out in years, like the Curious George that ended up going home with the little girl because she loved him so much and my kids were ready to let him go.
Then the day after Christmas: our good friends, Mark and Lisa, along with their children Hailey, Noah, and Isaiah, stopped by to see us! They spent Christmas with relatives in Seattle and were on their way home to San Francisco. They spent the night with us and left this morning. All the kids are friends (as well as all the adults!) but Zac and Isaiah are extra special best friends, the kind you only find maybe once or twice in a lifetime. Zac was sad the visit couldn't be longer. We'll have to look for more opportunities to get together, but that's hard when you live a 10 hour drive apart. Hmm. I just had an idea about that. Lisa, if you're reading this, drop me an email.
And the last item in today's very lengthy, chatty post: I just finished a beautiful book. I've been working on it ever since I checked it out, but it's been so busy and hectic around here that I'm only able to read a few pages each night before my eyes cannot stay open any longer. It's called
Waking, by Matthew Sanford. I first heard about Matthew Sanford on a program on OPB (Portland's NPR station) called Speaking of Faith. I don't know if this is a program that's syndicated, or if it's just in Portland, but I know from just listening to it that once that I can recommend it. (Do any of you have trouble remembering to listen to your favorite programs?) In this book, Matthew tells his story, of how his family was traveling back home from Thanksgiving when he was 13 and the car slipped on the ice on a bridge, tumbled down the embankment, killed his father and sister, and paralyzed him from the chest down. How he was told that he wouldn't ever walk again, he wouldn't ever feel anything below his armpits again, and the feelings he was having and the ability to move his foot a bit was just phantom feelings, and not real movement. He tells of his journey from that time when he was told to ignore his body, to focus on "what he had left" as if he was only upper torso now and not a whole body. How he hurt himself by that belief for a while, and then began the journey to wholeness, to connecting with the whole of his body. He doesn't hold out hope for ever walking again, or even feeling again the way he felt before, but he does feel with his whole body in a certain way. He ends the book with the bittersweet birth of his twin sons. One of whom died in utero and one who lived. Matthew seems to me to be an incredibly beautiful person, one who can see the beauty in everything and everyone and who has a great gift to share with the world. I feel like I became acquainted with a new friend by reading this book.
+001.jpg)
+002.jpg)
+003.jpg)
