Material elements of having a hospitable house:
The most significant thing to happen to me today was the time Sullivan, Éa & I spent at the Historic Harvest Festival at Millbrook Marsh. I got the chance enact what I had resolved at the Arboretum’s ForestFest: Dig in to festivals with time, money, and participation because let’s face it: I love them. We rode bikes to the marsh, put a bandage on the abrasion Sullivan got from his bike pedals during a bike path spill, pet the giant bunnies, ate hot dogs, saw taxidermy, ponies, bonsai trees, falcons, arrowheads, a cider press, the Harts, Bill Sharp, and Charlotte, Etta & Marin, poke light holes in aluminum foil. Oh, and Sullivan got third place in his heat of the donut-on-a-string contest, and I got third place in the adult bracket of the pie eating contest.
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.
Jesus specializes in bringing joy and life to sad, desolate places. Sometimes He arrives what appears to be too late.
But it’s never too late for Jesus to come through. Find your hope in Him.
Today was my last day as a salaried West Arête employee. As much as I know I made the right decision in choosing to return to DiamondBack, I will miss them, especially Ryan.
Carla suggested it would be a good idea to write down the reasoning behind my decision to about-face and work for DiamondBack full-time forever.
In brief: Working for West Arête a little bit enabled me to see that I’ve been the victim of a bad case of grass-is-greener syndrome for years. I’ve decided to go back to working full-time for DiamondBack, with no plans to seek alternative employment in the foreseeable future.
Less brief: God, You helped me dispel the myth of the golden-haired woman in my own life sometime in between when I broke things off with Val and when I started dating Carla. But we never applied the same metaphor to my career: I’ve been believing the myth of the golden-haired job probably since my time at Teen Mania. (What Color Is Your Parachute? probably didn’t help.)
“Everything about working for DiamondBack is great, except for the fact that it’s truck bed covers.” I’ve been saying that for two years now. I ignored the first clause, however, and concentrated...
// read full article →New habit to form: Any time I’m tempted to think or express a grumble, I will deny the thought but use it as a prompt to thank God or people for something.
I do not use trash cans as places to store stuff any more.
— Scott, defending himself when challenged to report why the children’s not-yet-empty toothpaste was sitting in the garbage
Part of the feelings & reasoning that went into the DiamondBack/West Arête decision
Long-term happiness on the job comes most easily where one has mastered 80% of the job at hand and is faced with about 20% new and challenging material. Mastery comes from extended practice, which is only possible with time and a mind to improve. Time and a mind to improve come from being committed to a job. (Same with a marriage.) Plus, being committed to a job in and of itself results in happiness simply because you’re not looking elsewhere.
So, it boiled down to: At which company will I have the easiest time keeping an active commitment to my post? That answer was easy: The place I’ve already helped build, the place that is familiar, the place that allows me to work from home and lets me dice my vacation time up into minutes that I can take virtually whenever I want.
What a weekend. I decided I want to go back to DiamondBack. Church helped a lot. Ethan is amenable, he thinks, so it’s mostly pending Brandon’s approval. I think he’ll say yes.
That means I need to prepare for an uncomfortable conversation with Scott Woods.
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!
Scott: Éa, would you mind if I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott [to clarify]: Should I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott: Any objections anyone?
Éa: Tunes! But don’t put on any objections!
I want one of those ballet shirts with a butt and a labia.
— Éa, in reference to buying a leotard
Scott: Sullivan, I’ve been meaning to talk with you about your reading habits.
Sullivan: You’ll never stop me.
Éa: [making small talk] What’s your Stilson?
Lindsay: Pelz. [the correct answer]
Carla: [playfully flicks dishwater at Scott]
Scott: What did I do to deserve that?
Carla: You married me.
Hey, it was definitely hard, but I really enjoyed spending time with you this evening.
— Scott, to Carla
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.
Daddy, no you don’t go to work! Éa and I go to work! [pause] Oh. Well, I guess if Éa and I were the one who went to work, we’d be poor.
— Sullivan, in a gradually self-aware attempt to keep Scott from going to work that day
The front cover of a birthday card Sullivan drew for Cassie’s birthday. Featuring a black-capped chickadee drawn from a photo.
Yeah, but I got two in a row.
— Sullivan, after losing at tic-tac-toe to Grandpa
Carla: Wow, it looks like it was cold last night.
Sullivan: Well, I was as warm as a bear slumbering in the basement.
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.