Scott: What would life be like without screens?
Carla: Buggy.
[pause]
Scott [slightly annoyed]: Could you just answer the question, please?
[pause]
Carla [gathering what he meant]: Well, we know what life would be like without screens. We didn’t have screens the first year of our marriage.
Scott: What did we DO?
Carla: We fought.
Scott [discussing trends in interior design] : Our culture…we highly prize…clean.
Carla: Yeah…it’s disgusting.
We grow more and more into our place. Carla has more and more connections, and is deepening many of her local relationships, especially with our neighbor “two doors down” Kristen, although Carla sorely misses Sarah all those long eight driving miles away. Carla even connected with Mary at the township building today over the Oxford comma while proofreading some ordinance change text. We had our fifth Houserville Social Club gathering at our house with the Harts and the Sauders (who are pregnant). And it was easy, even with the Harts who we haven’t seen in months. After all that talk about a destination party, we just booked five rustic cabins at Black Moshannon State Park to celebrate our anniversary with friends in August.
It feels very good to notice more depth of here-ness, presence in our little town.
Song of the day: “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone
Carla and I are both very happy today.
We’re in the groove, so to speak. I remained calm and focused the entire day at work. She enjoyed a lunch date at Panera with Éa during which she heard several other OCC moms complaining that they’re lonely and without close friends, which caused her to reflect that she is full of friends. I enjoyed a brisk walk in polar temperatures to and from lunch at Ethan’s house for forty-five minutes of conversation with the single friend of mine who is closest in outlook and makeup to me. Éa and I enjoyed me dancing with her in my arms during “25 or 6 to 4” and “Tusk.” Carla volunteered to clean up the sewage solids from the basement floor tomorrow morning.
About the worst thing you can say about today is that we finished up the coffee banana chocolate chip scones.
I could go on and on. O God, that we be very grateful.
Carla drew the above Mr. Funny collaboratively with the kids. We all thought it hilarious.
Alas, the rest of my day was tiring. At DiamondBack, I’m working on hooking up our contact-us forms to Salesforce via something they call “Visualforce.” And at home, I’m about three million miles away from finishing the Choral Society website.
Web development feels more and more like writing formal papers, the bane of my academic career.
But then, it is by definition always easier to enjoy the facile, isn’t it? Let’s face it: I just don’t like projects whose work isn’t like water falling down a sluice.
Carla: He looks like the beggar at the Beautiful Gate.
Éa: Who?
Scott: One of the people Jesus healed. One of many.
Éa: Killed?
Scott: HEALED.
Carla: And THAT. is why I don’t want our children to read Bible stories yet.
Carla was sworn in as a councilwoman today. I am proud. I only wish I wasn’t in a sprint toward completion of the State College Choral Society website so I could celebrate with her more appropriately. As it was, she walked in from the (very) cold night, all smiles and beautiful, thinking she did great (because she did). And I was tracking with her and happy for her for about five minutes before I begged off so I could get back to website work. Sigh.
After another Christmas morning, an afternoon wave of sleepiness, and a delicious, heartfelt Christmas feast courtesy mostly of Mom, the Stilson siblings, Felix, and Carla went to see the above movie as our gift to one another. It was a good one, and I hope it’s a small beginning in a new tradition: My siblings and I purposely spending time with one another when we’re around. Carla is much better at that than I.
I feel a certain loneliness today, a longing for fellowship. It’s probably because Carla is sick and spent most of the day in bed, although it feels like I’ve been missing something for a while now, a need for a best friend with whom I share not only interests, proximity, and mutual affection, but also approach to God, approach to self-conduct, and way of thinking. No friend of mine thinks like I do. Ethan is the closest I can think of. Perhaps I need to drop him a line.
Nonetheless, Carla and I did finally finish Greed (1924) this evening together. It was an excellent film that prompted me to pray, “Lord, please keep us from being deceived by money.”
Above is a drawing of a cardinal Carla did for the front of a Christmas card for the Wendles. She is so good.
She is also pretty sick. Ibuprofen allowed her to enjoy the party at the Wendles’ house this evening while the I and the sick or recovering kids stayed home, ate homemade pizza, read books, and listened to tunes. But boy, did it wear off when she returned home. Lord, may I be a sympathetic, brotherly, kindhearted husband tomorrow.
Carla insisted the four of us go outside in the 6–8 inches of snow after dinner this evening, and I’m glad she did. We pulled the kids around on their sleds, enjoyed the scenery and relative silence, sledded down the steps of the new footbridge and down the hill near Meadow Lane. O Lord, You’re beautiful.
“this morning is prime to send you a rhyme which speaks to your heart to say yours, I’m.”
— Carla, in one of two verses she emailed me this morning
The most significant thing to happen to me today was that (at my insistence — the only sign of real kick I’ve put into Carla’s campaign in recent weeks) we did our last day of canvassing for Carla’s campaign for College Township Council. It happened to be at a time when the Nittany Lions and the Illini were tied, 17-17, at the end of the Penn State football game. So we didn’t knock; we just left flyers in doors. And we got to meet the triceratops that lives at Michelle’s house behind the Peters’ house.
Carla: Oh my God, living with you is like living in a legal document!
Scott: Oh my god, living with you is like living in oatmeal!
Éa [from the other end of the house]: Mama! Watch this!
Carla: Honey, I’m cooking!
Éa: Mama watch this!
Carla: I can’t! I’m cooking right now!
Éa: Mama! Watch this! I can jump from the TOP!
Carla [walking quickly to the other end of the house]: Okay! You’ve got my interest!
Carla: It’s 7:57.
Scott: What!? Already?
Carla: I know. Like, what the fUuuuuuUuuck? [moment of silence] Sometimes I say that just to assert my adulthood.
If I were married to myself, I’d be divorced.
— Carla
Carla: I’ve gotta get in shape for the wedding.
Scott: Whoa. Weird. Normal woman-talk just came out of my wife’s mouth.
Carla and I had our first Friday Night Music Night with Kid A in the bedroom this evening. She has these fascinating and often poignant movies that play in her head as she listens, as if each track were meant to be a soundtrack. It’s amazing, and it makes me want to practice the same as a way to increase my creativity.
For her, of course, it comes naturally. For me, methinks it will take self-discipline.
Don’t forget to felt your scroll saw.
— Carla, pretending to be Scott prompting her to keep up with making a Christmas present
Carla [from the other room]: OK, it’s decided.
Scott: What’s that?
Carla: I don’t know.
“Man, it was dry in there.”
— Carla, on the The National Aquarium
“Well, I think he can get a pretty intense look on his face when he’s playing something like this, but I don’t think he ever looks like a pirate getting an enema.”
— Scott describing Carla’s imitation of Itzhak Perlman playing the finale of Erich Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D. (Go ahead. Picture it.)
“You’re so understanding it’s driving me crazy!”
— Scott, of Carla
Scott: What did you say? I’m sure it was something very important and full of insight.
Carla: I think I just ate some soapy paint-water.