Extra! Extra!

If I lived there, I would spend hours on this bench...

Nestled off and away on a dirt path that leads out into the harbor, in a wooded setting with only the hushed rustle of leaves falling down, the occasional scampering of creatures unseen, and the sweet chirping of birds swooping across the skies that stretch beyond the ancient trees.
Here there is only stillness and solitude. Nature and her Creator. Life and art merging as one in a serene tableau, a feast for the senses.

Here I would sit; here I would meditate, pray, write, ponder on things beyond knowledge, and wonder at it all.

Mount Desert Island: Day 1

At last, I have gotten around to posting more pictures! :)

Our cottage during our stay on Mount Desert Island.

The cozy living room where we curled up with books in the evenings.

The upper deck, which overlooked the Asticou Gardens behind the cottage

The Asticou Gardens

After rambling around the gardens a bit on our first morning there, Ashley, Hunter, Parker, Landon and I wandered across the street where we saw this:

hmm, why not? we thought.
We were soon upon some truly inspiring scenery...

across a rickety wooden bridge, over fern and fallen leaves, the path eventually wound out to the quiet harbor

Hunter was the first to take off his shoes and wade through the shallow water and onto this rock

where he blended in nicely with the fall colors :)

I couldn't resist getting my feet wet and taking a turn on that smooth rock
where, alas, my purple shirt clashed horrendously with nature

After a day of island exploration (on foot and in the car), we were ready for a hike.

Here we all are, about to start out on our first (and only, due to a couple of people getting sick during our trip) hike
It was cold, in case you can't tell from the picture ;)

Bliss

thank goodness for blue trail markers!

Extra! Extra!

Just because I'm dying to share photos doesn't mean that my readers are dying to see them, but for the sake of an excuse to post more without feeling like the world's biggest bore, I'm going to pretend that you are as anxious to see them as I am to post them. :)

So, more photos of Boston...

Our photographer, Landon. He's on the other side of the lens in all the pictures here. :)

A view of the harbor as we sped away from it.

Boston's skyline, viewed from the USS Constitution.

Me in the Captain's quarters. We followed some other people in there, not seeing any signs that said we couldn't, but we were escorted out a few minutes later. The Naval guide was nice about it, but we felt bad. We really had no idea it was off limits. Thankfully, Landon got some shots while we were in there. It was an incredible place, most definitely the most interesting part of the ship - what a pity the public isn't allowed in.

The captain's bed.

"Old Ironsides" from the front. Unfortunately, she is undergoing a massive renovation, so the top was covered in tarps and her masts were down.

Lexi, Mom, Ashley

Boston: Part II

We woke up to bad weather reports, which damped our spirits a bit (no pun intended, really!). I believe it was the first time any of us had ever heard, or been under, a "gale warning". As we waited for our shuttle to take us to a sub stop, a fierce rain blew in, and as quickly left. If that was all a storm did in Boston then we would be okay, we figured.

Our first stop was for lunch at Legal Sea Foods on the pier. With great happiness we indulged in a delicious, if pricey, cuisine. (but hey, it's not everyday that you can eat a lobster roll or clam chowder when you're from Texas).

After lunch Mom, Ashley, and Lexi went to the New England Aquarium

where, in addition to fascinating sea creatures, they also saw Jeff Corwin and his crew filming an episode for Animal Planet. Apparently you could look but not loiter around the cameras, so their time observing Jeff Corwin swimming in the large tank was brief.


I had been to the NEA on a previous visit to Boston so opted instead to join my brothers

on their excursion to the USS Constitution, a historical sight I figured I might as well see once.

Having now been, I think I can safely say that once was enough. It would have been far more interesting had we been allowed to do a self-guided exploration, but people were only allowed in 3 areas of the ship (which, I must admit, was probably all that was interesting to see - yet I wanted so badly to see the details of remnants/relics from her history left around the boat) and were conducted and guided by enlisted members of the Navy.


One Naval guide did say something that I thought was interesting and provoked thoughts later when on the ferry heading back to the NEA. As he related a story of how the Constitution came to be known as "Old Ironsides",

he said that during the historic battle, sailors on the boat became very afraid as the British Navy rained shells with frightening accuracy on them and speedily gained on the Constitution in order to board and taker her. The captain of the Constitution reigned in his frightened men and reminded them to stay their ground and "stay true to their end". I was really struck by that expression. Those just aren't words that you hear today (unless you're on a sports team).

The ferry ride to and from the Constitution was cold and brisk,

and I found the icy wind a relief as it chased away my afternoon weariness (i.e.,. sleepiness - I had not recovered yet from the restless nights I had experienced the week before departing - which were totally not related to the trip, btw) and I felt reinvigorated and ready for more trekking around Boston.

Mom, Ashley and Lexi were on the pier waiting for us.

We regrouped and headed to the subway for a trip to find a certain bookstore near the Commons. We emerged from the underground into the very heart of Boston with bitterly cold winds, crowds, and old streets that reeked of times long past. We were heading to Brattle Book Shop, which unfortunately closed 5 minutes after we found it. Disappointed and now very cold, we refreshed ourselves at Dunkin Donuts (the stop of choice in Massachusetts - you can't throw a stone without hitting one!), then we boarded the subway again to go back to the Brookline area where we had spotted an independent bookstore the day before, which we now visited and subsequently did some minor wallet damage while there.

When we at last left Brookline Booksmith, we found it was dark and even colder than it had been. A stop at the Starbucks next door was necessary for steaming cups of hot espresso drinks to warm (and wake) us up. Armed with our hot drinks, we headed out again into the cold city.

Boston at night is somewhat quieter than it is during the day, and it's many twinkling lights only added to the already atmospheric city.

We went back to the airport and picked up our rent car, then back to the hotel to pick up our luggage, and then we were finally on our way to Maine, arriving 4 hours later at a time most unearthly. But we had arrived, and we were thankful.

Boston

I kept a journal while on the trip. The following posts (including this one) are snippets from my rambling notes. :)

On Tuesday we arrived at Boston's Logan Airport to begin our 8 day vacation on the East Coast.

After settling into our hotel and gathering info regarding the use of mass transit around Boston, we set out in the late afternoon to see that great, old, city.

It was with trepidation that we approached the subway station. As Texans who live in a sprawled out suburban area, we needed to acquaint ourselves with the droll details of things such as the destinations of red, blue, green, and orange lines. We took a promising blue train (after receiving some helpful assistance from an MBTA employee) and boarded with excitement and anticipation.

We got off at Government Center to transfer to another line and this was my first time to step off a train and into the fascinating underworld of the subway. My first impression was that people were moving: on trains, off trains, up the stairs to the street, down the stairs to the trains. People were holding steaming coffee, books, bags, instruments. There were musicians hawking their cd's and playing for cash. My eyes could not rest from the ever fascinating spectacle around me. I could not remember any underground as interesting as this one was. The trains themselves were even more of a spectacle. To my surprise, I quickly began to note that there are a vast amount of readers who are adept at reading while standing their ground on the swaying, jerking trains. I remember being impressed by one girl in particular: a true pro, she kept her eyes and hands trained on her book, all the while standing with feet firmly planted while others were reaching to grab onto anything they could for support; she continued to read as the doors opened and people shoved past her; she read without missing a beat of anything happening around her.

Soon we were on a new line and heading we didn't know where. The train reached street level and we emerged from darkness into light, traveling at a rapid pace, with frequent stops; here was a place called Brookline... and there we spotted some enticing stores and disembarked. We made our way to a Trader Joe's for some snack shopping (would you believe we had missed breakfast and lunch due to our hectic travel schedule and the fact that airlines don't feed you anymore and we were too stubborn to pay exorbitant prices for nasty airport food?!) and then back onto the train after realizing that the time was getting late. We promised ourselves that we would return to that quaint residential area after espying a bookstore, knitting store, and other promising storefronts.

We then made our way, somehow, into downtown Boston, and specifically to the North End (or Little Italy, as some call it), a busy place with swarms of people and delightful old buildings on equally aged streets. Our destination was Mike's Pastry Shop, a place recommended to us by my brother and sister-in-law, and also by a local. The place was teeming with pastries and people. 30 minutes later and some of the family emerged with a bulging box, to be opened and indulged in later. (we assumed the pastries might be too messy to consume on the street - and we were right!)

After Mike's, we ate pizza in a tiny Italian restaurant where English was the second language, and then walked back to a sub station to begin the trek back to our hotel.

Boston at night is somehow energetic without having the chaotic, rushing madness of other large cities. There is energy, but not the frenetic sort I found in Chicago and London. It is, strangely enough, a more deliberate pace.

We opened our pastries back at the hotel and tasted our first cannoli. Delicious!

Goin' Home

I unwittingly spoke too soon when I said stories and pictures were on the way (alas, I only have a couple to share). I had no idea at the time that my brothers would upload all of 10 pictures from the hundreds they must have taken in the week we have been here. I am sure that all the pictures will be uploaded when we get back home tomorrow, and I will hopefully have a post ready to share sometime this weekend.

We have all been feeling rather despondent on our last day in Northeast Harbor. Mount Desert Island has grown on us by no gradual leap, and we are simply not ready to go home just yet. If we could stay to enjoy the sun's rays filtering through the trees, the sprawling mountains bordering the quiet harbors, the magnificent seascapes visible from almost anywhere, the boats pulling into the harbor and unloading the day's catch, the water from the sea spraying upwards from it's collision with the rocky shore, and the mist rising from the mountains in the rain... if we could only stay in this beautiful place a little longer.

To lessen the bittersweet departure, we have been speaking of "when" and not "if" we return. :)

I climbed a total of 4 mountains during our stay. Hunter and Parker climbed 5. Together we summited 4. The above and below photos are pictures that were taken as we ascended Gorham Mountain last week.

Mount Desert Island

It has become my belief since arriving here on Mount Desert Island that there is simply nothing more wonderful or refreshing as waking up in the morning to a room flooded with sunlight; to step out onto the upper deck, feel the crisp (and rather chilly) fall air, and see a burst of color as the surrounding trees wave their leaf-laden branches in a seeming welcome to the new day.

We arrived in Acadia quite late on Wednesday, when it was too dark too see anything more than large, ominous shapes in front of us as we drove. In the light of the following day, our breath was taken away when we drove the same road (as we left the island for grocery shopping), to see that what were dark objects were actually mountains and trees - a welcoming sight for those of us who live in a large, flat, and rather ugly metropolis. :)

Our cottage is not an old one like some here on the island, but is very charming and comfortable. Near our cottage is a path that leads along a quiet brook, past small waterfalls, and out into the quiet Northeast Harbor.

It is very lovely here, with sprawling mountains to explore, glorious fall colors to see, exquisite fauna covering the ground everywhere, and a gleaming sea that crashes against the rocks. It is a quiet retreat away from the many things that contrive to keep us busy in our large metropolitan area. I may never want to return home...

Pictures to follow! :)

North Carolina

Ashley and I took a short trip to North Carolina last week to care for our cousin's children while she and her husband were away. We returned home last night after 6 days in a small college town. While there wasn't an abundance of entertainment or shopping where we were located, there also wasn't a lack of life's simple things to do and enjoy, things such as walking to the grocery store every day (why drive when it's only 6 blocks away?); taking a run or walk around the college's 100 year old East Campus, where a gravel path is bordered with a stone wall on one side and stately trees on the other; indulging in delicious coffee and pastries (all organic and/or local ingredients) from local restaurants; seeing a wonderful friend who made time to drive in and visit with me over the weekend; taking in a delightful children's museum; visiting a vintage clothing store and an old bookshop on a rainy day; and spending time with little cousins who can deplete your energy level faster than you can blink.

While I missed my home (maybe, more specifically, the family that makes my home what it is), I can't say that I missed the area in which I live; a place on the map known for it's consumerism and shopping overkill, it's amusement parks and ginormous stadiums. It is an area with so much pointless entertainment to offer that people often complain when they don't get to visit the movie theater more than a couple of times a week, or feel that for stay-cations they have to go down the road to the massive, uber-expensive hotel with the indoor water park so that their kids won't be "bored" and deprived of endless entertainment.

I have to say that I simply cannot fathom the seeming inability of function that people experience when deprived of tv, aimless shopping, and amusement park day passes. The word "bored" gets bandied around quite a bit, but I personally feel as though I have yet to know what boredom is. If you can learn to appreciate the solitary moments that a porch swing can offer you on a crisp fall day, or the stillness of a morning when the only sounds are those of birds singing so far above you in trees that you cannot see them, or the gentle pelting of the rain against the roof and windows, or the sunlight filtering through the trees as you amble down a leaf-strewn sidewalk - if you can hear, see, and feel the life in God's creation around you, then you will never, ever know boredom again. And yes, you can experience it wherever you are. I may not be able to enjoy the changing of the seasons like other parts of the country, but I can sit outside and take in a hummingbird gathering nectar around the garden, monarch butterflies filling the air on their way to Mexico, bees gathering pollen from my mom's flowers, and the breath-taking sunsets or gathering storms visible from the kitchen window. I can enjoy the feel of a book in my hands, the pleasure of turning the pages and getting lost in a good story, and a delicious cup of tea while I reflect in my journal.

I must confess I am tired of the ridiculous contest Americans challenge each other with: the "who can be busiest and have the least amount of time on any given day" game. Why can't we enjoy a simple life with simple pleasures; why do we feel the need to be so busy, distracted, and frantic in our daily lives?

That said (rant ponderings over now), I was glad to be there and not have to be anywhere, and I'm looking forward with great anticipation to another week of delightful simplicity when my family heads off to Maine next Tuesday. In the meantime, some pictures as a reward for making it this far through my ramblings. :)

Yes, that IS a Caribou Coffee! I tried a delectable drink that was more dessert than beverage: a mint mocha topped with whipped cream and Andes mints. yum!! I had to share with Ashley as I couldn't possibly finish it on my own.

One of many tree lined streets. Actually, it being North Carolina, there aren't any streets that don't have trees lining them.

Better even than discovering a Caribou Coffee nearby was finding a Trader Joe's! We had no idea there was one nearby, so when we spotted it we braked and swerved but missed the turn in, so we sped on to the next exit, somehow managed to find our way back, and did some damage to our wallets before heading back to pick up little cousin #1 from school.

At the children's musuem of Life and Science, this was part of an exhibit! It is an example of how math is involved/used in quilting. I was won over after seeing it. Another example of math using knitting would have made my visit complete, but one can't have it all. :)

This alligator's stare was almost unnerving. He looked as though he were plotting an escape from the tank and a revenge attack on the visitors gawking at him...

Sunday morning on East Campus. I was trying to capture the auditorium centering the main campus drive and unfortunately just captured a part of it peeking from behind trees off in the distance. Oh well.

Boring

"The reality is that boring is what most people are actually yearning for—they just don’t know it. Boring is having no people to see, no tasks to accomplish, no expectations to meet, no pressures to deal with—it is the ideal adventure. People go halfway around the world to find a secluded beach or a remote cabin or a mountain chalet, just so they can do nothing. It is dull people who have to be stimulated constantly. Something has always got to be going on.

Most modern men and women are addicted to the razzle-dazzle. We want wow. And we want it now. Our whole culture, from popular entertainment to corporate management, is predicated on the idea that our lives ought to be defined by a frenetic go-go-go sense of busyness. There is no time to reflect. No time to think. No time to do anything at all except be busy."

-Dr. George Grant. Read the rest here.

Lovely Summer Days

I can't remember ever having an August as comfortable and cool as we have had this year. After weeks of warm (but far from oppressive) 90 degree temperatures, we experienced a warm front with temperatures reaching highs of 100+. Last week a cool front came through and knocked the temperatures down to the 80's daytime, 60's at night. I could almost believe I live in some other state, this is so unlike Texas! On Saturday I took a walk in my local park and noted the flowing creek (usually dry this time of year), the clear blue sky dotted with snow-white clouds, the swooping birds and dainty butterflies that danced in front of me, and the deliciously cool breeze in my face. It was unbelievable for a mid-morning in August. Yesterday, taking advantage of the north winds and sunny skies, I took my book and a cup of green tea out to the backyard hummingbird garden and sat at the garden table. For awhile, all was peaceful (except for occasional shouts from a pool party at a neighbor's house). I was intent on my book when I heard a steady, low chirping. Looking up I saw a hummingbird at the feeder nearby. I watched him above the blooming flowers as he visited again and again, always flying up into a nearby tree before returning for more nectar. Eventually, various birds began to gather at the other feeders and bees began dancing and buzzing around the nearby flowers... and I realized that I was surrounded by nature. I couldn't read anymore for watching all that was taking place in front of me, but I couldn't imagine a better way to spend a Sunday than being in the middle of my Creator's marvelous handiwork.

Some Quick Observations on Food:

I have so many thoughts I would love to blog on, and for which I especially regret the lack of time to "think aloud" by writing them out. I have had so many questions and thoughts related to topics such as the health care debate, our current economy, our society, politics, etc.,. Theological ponderings I have had lately have been about prayer, God's sovereignty, and so on... Thoughts I do want to share at some point as I (hopefully) find/make time to do so. For now I'll happily point to other blogs/articles/videos that I have enjoyed and found to be useful, and then add my thoughts to them as I can.

First up, this blog post on food by Douglas Wilson. My quick thoughts: I love fresh, home cooked/baked food. It is my preferred meal unless a restaurant somehow manages to do better (which is rare). I love using organic when possible, but must admit that it's expensiveness makes it a luxury I can't often afford. Should I feel guilty then for buying from the corporate owned grocery store down the street what I couldn't buy from Whole Foods Market? I mean, at least I'm buying fruits and vegetables - isn't something better than nothing? You would think so, and yet I know people who are so dogmatic about their organics and their avoidance of corporate-owned stores that they refuse to shop at any place and eat anything that isn't to their personal standard of organic/natural.

My book club met at Starbucks last Saturday evening. The baristas, during a break from the store's busyness, created a tray of bite-sized sandwiches and pastries for us, then brought it over to serve us. I took one (as did my mom and sister), not because I was especially hungry and wanted the bacon and gouda on whole wheat, but because I wanted to show gratitude for their kind effort to serve us. The rest of our group refused the food because it was "corporate" and not from a local source. While I love supporting local businesses (again, when I can), I came away from our meeting with the strongest desire to not be so dogmatic about food that I can never enjoy what is offered to me by someone else who may not hold to my standard of eating. There is so much freedom in being able to see both sides, supporting local business when possible, eating organic when available and affordable, but never feeling guilty if unable to do it and you're forced to shop at (gasp) Target or Wal-Mart. Food is a gift from God, one that we can take pleasure in and enjoy, but it is, like the air we breathe, for our survival more than for our pleasure.

Another quick observation: food refusal often occurs in dieters as well, and I have seen co-workers bake a time-consuming dessert to share at work, only to have 80% of the other co-workers refuse to eat any of it (not even a small, tiny piece) because they were "trying to lose weight". My question: at what point do we become slaves to our food, not so much in consuming, but in not-consuming because of our vanity? Has eating/not eating become a form of idolatry in America? Really, does it ever hurt to just take a piece of something someone has prepared for you and eat it and be thankful for it? (I am not talking to people who would refuse something based on dietary restrictions, i.e,. people with diabetes) Will it make you gain 20 pounds to eat a small piece of cake once when the rest of the time you do a good job of watching what you eat? The same applies to organic foodies: will it really give you cancer to just eat a small piece of something that has preservatives once in a while, especially when it's a rare occurrence for you to do it anyway?

In conclusion: I am not advocating organic vs. non-organic, or corporate vs. local. There is so much to be explored in the food source argument. What I am advocating is a thoughtful approach to food vs. a dogmatic one. Eat organic if you want, buy locally if you want. Eat food with pesticide residue if you want, and shop at the corporate-owned store if that's what you prefer. Be informed but be careful. Please just don't be the kind of person who can't ever enjoy food. Simply eat and be thankful. :)

Summer is Over...

Ah well, I guess summer vacation ended at day 4 as life got very much in the way of more posts. :) It is hard to believe how quickly August has flown by. I return to work this week, so my summer break has officially ended. I have used my break to work on three large projects; one was successfully completed last week, and two more I am still working on. I hope to reveal one of the projects soon...

For now I shall direct your attention to something we are quite proud of:
Landon placed as a semi-finalist in a photography contest by Nature's Best Photography for Students. Way to go little brother!

Summer Vacation: Day 4

Book Four: The English Countryside
Victorian Era

I have a biography of Charlotte Bronte, as well as a collection of letters between the Bronte sisters and their friends. Being a huge fan of the Brontes, I have devoured all I can about their life and how it influenced their writing. I first read Jane Eyre when I was a young teenager. I have since returned to the tale again and again. It is one of few books that I can read and, knowing the story, still have a hard time putting the book down. I remember how surprised I was to learn from biographers that Charlotte Bronte was incurably, ostensibly shy her whole life (as were her sisters, to varying degrees). This simply didn't mesh in my mind as possible for the author of one of the most passionate, enduring (and unlikely) love stories ever written in the English language. How could someone so reserved, with such little life experience, write about a man as dark, brooding, and passionate as Mr. Rochester? Who could ever have conceived of such a protagonist for a romantic story? Yet the love between him and shy, plain Jane Eyre (undoubtedly Miss Bronte, though she may not have realized how much she mirrored her own life into her famous heroine) is not only believable, but has changed the way we see marriage. Thanks to the Bronte's (and others who championed love conquers all), Victorian society began to think about the possibility of marriages that can bridge classes and defeat societal expectations, and not merely arranged for profit, connections, or blood lines. The Bronte's may have been quiet, shy, and content to be away from the lime light (once Charlotte hid herself behind curtains in a friend's parlour during a dinner in her honor), but they felt deeply the injustices they perceived in a cruel society and the life they could never have - they were caught between the genteel life of being the curate's daughters - above the notice of the poor and below the notice of the rich. They lived lonely lives, despite being celebrated authors, and all died young with only one – Charlotte – ever experiencing what they wrote so deeply of: love and marriage.

Reading the Bronte books is like catching brief glimpses into their life, real and imagined, and putting together pieces of a puzzle found in their novels that only end up telling us more about them than their biographers ever could. Most of all, you come away feeling an affinity and connection with them through their stories. In fact, you can only come away feeling as though you know them very well - almost as if you were their friend long ago.

Download or Buy Jane Eyre

My favorite film adaptation to date (it's old and bad quality - somebody please make a version as faithful to the book as this one!)

Charlotte's wiki page

Summer Vacation: Day 3

Alas, I failed to post yesterday due to time constraints and a weird, ongoing problem with Google. Here is yesterday's book:

Milton (a fictional name for Manchester)
Victorian era

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... So wrote an author that while describing a different era, undoubtedly captured his own in that remarkable paragraph. It was an era marked by disease, famine, progress, hope, despair, and abject poverty that moved Dickens to write his famous novels. The same feelings moved his contemporary (and friend) Elizabeth Gaskell to write about the sweeping changes and fears of progress that typified their era. And while Dickens focused on the working classes primarily, it was Mrs. Gaskell who turned her attention to the complex relationship between masters and men in her timeless novel North and South.

Mr. Thornton owns and operates a mill which produces cotton. Beautiful, courageous Margaret Hale, newly arrived from the verdant countryside in the South of England, opposes the mill (as well as the owner's growing attachment for her). Conflict rears it's ugly head when the mill workers strike for better wages, only to learn that their master is not easily swayed by politics. Soon the unemployed workers begin dying from the hunger, disease, and despair resulting from lack of work. Their story is interwoven with that of the Hales and their own trials and triumphs as they adjust to a new life in Milton. Mrs. Gaskell, like so many of her writer friends, was herself caught between a genteel life and a restricted income. As a curate's wife, she experienced that strange limbo society placed her in - too rich to be poor, too poor to be rich. Undoubtedly the strong emotions and urgent themes present in her novels are the result of her own struggle with life and all of it's joys and contradictions.

Download it, buy it, or listen to it

The movie

Mrs. Gaskell's bio

Summer Vacation: Day 2

London, with a short excursion to Paris during the Reign of Terror

Swashbuckling hero hardly comes to mind when mentioned in conjunction with one of history's darker moments in time, yet it is exactly what one thinks of when the hero is the Scarlet Pimpernel. Daring, adventurous, secretive, romantic – The Scarlet Pimpernel embodies everything a typical British hero is often portrayed as (but, like Americans, hardly ever in reality is :) ). If you like sitting on the edge of your seat and flying through a book just to see whether the hero will live or die and what happens to his beautiful wife, then this book is for you. And yes, I know that the book's author isn't really British, but as she did live there for most of her life, it seemed enough to make her an honorary inclusion to my list.

Buy or download it

The book's wiki page

Baroness Orczy's bio