October 22, 2015 § Leave a comment
Today I was thinking about my old pet rat, Mervy. Mervy passed away in January 2013, so this definitely counts as a throwback. I wrote about him here when that happened. He was the most affectionate rat and the friendliest one out of the 6 that I’ve owned. (Charlie was the sweetest to me, but he wasn’t as good with other people, so Mervy gets the crowd-pleaser title.)
But today I was really just remembering one Merv incident in particular, the one that makes me so glad I have pet rats, because they’re smart and hilarious and sneaky. It was mid-December of 2011, and I was still living at home with the rat cage in my bedroom. I had a box of Gertrude Hawk chocolate Jordan Crackers in my closet, to keep it safe from the rats. (Yes, I keep snacks in my bedroom. No, those snacks are never healthy.) One day, I let the rats (Bob, Merv, and Willy at the time) out of the cage in my room to have some play time, as usual. I left the room for a few minutes, shutting the door tightly behind me, and went to grab some laundry downstairs. Mom distracted me on that fateful day, asking me a few questions in the kitchen, so that it was about half an hour before I made it back upstairs. I went back in the room and immediately saw that my closet door was open. When I poked my head inside, Mervy came scampering out of the closet, right between my feet, a Jordan Cracker firmly held in his mouth, and sticking out both sides. “MERVY!” I exclaimed in horror and pounced on him. He squirmed in my grasp, trying desperately not to relinquish his forbidden treat. I pried it out of his mouth and then promptly popped him into the cage and latched the door. Turning back to the closet, I saw he had chewed a hole through the bottom of the Jordan Cracker box and left cardboard pieces scattered around. I picked a few up and turned back around to laughingly scold him again.
And there he was, sitting in a corner of the cage, gnawing happily on ANOTHER Jordan Cracker!! “Mervy!” I yelled again, and reached in and tugged the second one from his greedy little paws. I turned around and dropped both chocolates in the trash, picked up more cardboard and threw that out, and then spun back to properly scold my sneaky little rat again. And there he was, eating A THIRD JORDAN CRACKER.
“WHERE ARE YOU GETTING THESE FROM!?” I shrieked, feeling baffled and dismayed. Mervy’s twinkling black eyes laughed at me as he eagerly nibbled the chocolate treat that was bigger than his face. On a hunch, I reached into the cage and lifted up their little sleep hut. Sure enough, there they were, a whole treasure trove of chocolate goodness. Mervy had hoarded at least fifteen Jordan Crackers inside the opaque walls of the sleep hut. He must have ferried them each individually into the cage from the closet while I was downstairs. In half an hour! I started laughing so hard I cried. The image of him trotting back and forth across my room with these giant chocolates sticking out of his mouth was too much. Then I took them all out and told Mervy he was a hilariously, adorably misbehaving sneak of a rat.
I don’t keep snacks in my room anymore.
Mervy snuggled up with Fred and Bob
October 20, 2015 § Leave a comment
“I wish I could explain being here to you. These woods and the paths winding through them, the pond and the wetlands. It’s like- do you know what a gyroscope is?”
“I know it helps keep a plane upright!”
“I think we all have our own gyroscope places. Places in our lives that keep us balanced, bring us back to an upright and secure position. Our axis points true north here, holding us firmly as the world spins around us, reminding us of the steadying truth found in simple joys. Grace, peace, fellowship, rest. In the midst of our swiftly tilting days, these are our lodestones. They draw us back ever and again. Their beautiful gravity is not temporal; it is an inward reality, unchanging in the seasons and years that may pass between our visits. While our wandering lives dance like the moon across the sky, all changing shape and face, these polestar places never waver. When we do return for a visit, we are more ourselves here than anywhere else. We find a firm foundation beneath our feet. We can hear our hearts, each shushing beat. Reoriented with our guiding lines, we squint and smile in the fading light, and it does not hurt to say goodbye, goodbye and goodnight.”
October 8, 2015 § 2 Comments
Wild grapes are the best scent of fall. Pumpkin is fine, I like pumpkin very much, but nothing says fall to me like clambering through the woods and catching that elusive tang of wild grapes ripening somewhere nearby. The annual hayride at Zelinkas is coming up soon, so I’ll probably ride the wagon all the way into the woods and then jump out (setting a terrible example for the young children… “Kids, do NOT jump out of the moving hay wagon.”) and tramp around the forest looking for the grapes and all the other ephemeral childhood memories hidden within the Z’s woods. So many ghosts of my friends and myself, running through the trees, playing Manhunt and Soccer and Orphans, telling secrets in the rowboat on the pond, daring each other to eat a tiny bite of the horses’ molasses-sweetened grain.
Although autumn in Pennsylvania is pretty as a picture and twice as interesting- what with the constant fluctuation between delightfully blue sunny days and “let me snuggle under a blanket with a book” dreary gray rain- I have to keep my mind in summer mode for a little while longer. Costa Rica beckons, a mere month (and 6 days) away. Jess has been in NEPA from Costa Rica for the past week or so, and we’ve been talking about our plans for me and Channing’s visit, and how I’m going to build sand castles with little Alana and drink mango margaritas all day long. And do yoga overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Insta-worthy, indeed.
November is shaping up to be a wonderful month. My little niece Yeardley will be turning 1, and I’ll probably pop down to Erica & Bryan’s for her birthday party during the first week of the month. Channing and I leave for Costa Rica on the 14th for five days of sun, sand, and fedora. And by the time I get back, Thanksgiving will only be a week away. That means pies, cakes, and whatever slightly more technical desserts I decide to bake this year. Last year, I made every single dessert my family enjoyed on Thanksgiving, and I am rightly still proud of myself, especially for that chocolate torte. I also still have the burns to prove it. “Forever Scarred (From Caramel Sauce)” will now be the name of my autobiography. Sadly, the Michigan family probably won’t be making an appearance in PA for the holiday this year, because I don’t think Jul will be up for 18 hours in the car when she’s three weeks away from giving birth. She’s having a little boy in the beginning of December, and I’ve already told her she’s not allowed to name him James. (My favorite boy’s name… after Jamie Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, of course.) Cathy and I have been having virtual Taylor Swift jam sessions on Facebook. Mainly we just post lyrics on each other’s wall with a bunch of sobbing emojis. It’s not nearly as fun as real life. She needs to come back home. Who even likes Michigan, anyway? Dang it, Michigan!
If November looks to be fun, well, September and (so far) October definitely were. I started September off in the best possible way: by spending Labor Day weekend down at the beach in Longport. Gin & tonics, sunset bicycle rides, and lots of reading books on the beach. My aunt and uncle spoil me when I’m down there, and I love them for it. Later in the month I went to the Breaking Benjamin concert at Montage with Mike and some friends. Breaking Ben played a lot of their older songs, so we were all singing along at the top of our lungs. It was a great show, except for the $15 beers once you were inside. A few Sundays ago, (yoga) Erica and I went on a bike ride on the Back Mountain Trail. Or, to more accurately depict our day, I should say we: ate giant burritos at Chipotle, drove through Starbucks for sugary caffeinated beverages, and then decided it might be a nice thing to ride bikes for two hours. There is a method to our madness, but I am not quite sure what exactly it is.
On one of the more humid September days, Ron and I went to a swimming hole near Laflin. It was a pretty little spot, tucked into the woods after a fifteen minute drive down a rutted and winding dirt road. Luckily his Jeep is a beast. The hole is made by a creek that slides down some rocks into a large, almost perfectly circular pool, then spills over another bank of rocks at the end. When I sat on the rocks at the edge of the water and looked up, all I could see was a round little cup of blue sky, encircled by the tall green pines. It was deep too; neither Ron nor I could touch the bottom in the center. I asked him if he thought there’d be any water snakes, and he said, “No, of course not, the water’s too cold for them.” So we swam around for a while and got out when the sky started turning gray with coming rain. As we were standing on the rocks, discussing the odd conversational style of his ex-girlfriend, I noticed small ripples on the surface of the water. “Ron,” I said calmly, “what is that?” “Probably a…fish?” He peered at the water. And then we both saw it. A water snake, gliding sinuously through the pool, heading in our general direction. I shrieked like a steam engine (a girly move on my part…the snake was literally nowhere close to us) and ran up on top of a giant boulder where I could see it coming if it decided to eat me. Ron gave me eighteen heart attacks by going down to the water and saying he was going to try to pick it up. Apparently he has handled water snakes before. I told him I considered him a great friend, and I enjoyed his life advice and our long, rambling theological discussions, but if he came near me with that snake, I would murder him, and the 5th Commandment be darned.
He did not pick up the snake.
Near the end of September was the long awaited PAPAL VISIT. I went down on the bus with Kevin, Rich, Paul, Pete, my mother, and a few dozen other people from our church. We didn’t even make it through security. We got stuck in a huge line of people for three hours and then ended up watching the Mass on television at the Comcast building. But it was strangely moving, being in a completely secular place, surrounded by thousands of people who are all saying the same prayers, participating in the same Mass with you. We went out to the parkway to receive Communion. So I’ve received Communion that was consecrated by the Pope. How many people can say that? (Also I got interviewed for the Citizens Voice because of it, and now I’m a local celeb.)
To start October off right, Channing, Jess, Missy, and I had dinner at Thai Thai. The red curry was as delicious as ever. We’ve done brunch at River Grille a couple Sundays in a row as well. Sunday afternoon football on the television at the bars is always the best part of September. I don’t follow it as much as hockey, but every time it starts back up, I’m reminded of how much I really do enjoy it. Football around here is a BIG deal. And if I still feel a little stab of pain every time I hear someone mention Eli Manning and the Giants, well, that too shall pass. Fly, Eagles, fly. Another nice thing about September was spending more time with my older brother. Dan is recently single, and we’ve been hanging out a lot more than we used to when he was visiting Christina every other weekend. Although I miss her, I have to admit it’s been hilarious good times to go out again with Dan and see old friends, be goofy in the Babetski way, talk about life and love and being grown-ups in this wide, wide world.
I guess if there’s a point to this rambling post, it’s this: my family and friends are an incredible gift to me. I have felt such spiritual silence in the past few months, such a weight on my soul. I just keep going back to the basics of my life, saying to myself in the words of St. Pio: Pray, hope, and don’t worry. Use this time to stay close with your family, to build your friendships and shine your nerdy little light out into the world. I am happy here in Wilkes-Barre; I want to spread a little of that happiness and peace to the people I love. And if that sounds cheesy, well, I’ve always been a romantic at heart.
Here’s to fall in the Northeast. Let’s go run around in the woods and find some wild grapes.
September 18, 2015 § Leave a comment
On my bad days, I think about all the strong things I’ve done in my life lately, all the things I thought I would never, ever be strong enough to do. I think of them and remember how much I dreaded them, how the thought of doing them made me sick with fear, but they’re done now. They’re in my past. I survived. I am okay with where I am in my life right now. I got myself to this place, no one else but me. Obviously I had help but the decisions and the carrying out of them were mine. So I think to myself: I am strong. And that is a wondrous thing.
I had an old poster from when The Fellowship of the Ring was first released as a movie, and Frodo was on the front, holding the ring in his palm and staring down at it. It said “Power can be held in the smallest of things.” I think of that poster, and I look down at my skinny little chicken arms, no biceps to speak of, and I laugh out loud in delight at the odd turnings of the world and the keenness of minds who find wonder in paradox.
September 3, 2015 § Leave a comment
September 3rd, 2015:
My prayer right now is for contrition, to understand more deeply how my sin wounds the heart of Jesus and to take strength from that, in order to not commit certain sins again. It seems to me that I get stuck in a loop, very easy to do when you’ve been born and raised with your faith like I have, and there’s really not a lot of major stuff going on in my life. Loop: get frustrated, distracted, angry, sorrowful, commit sins, feel remorse, manage to make it to Confession on a Saturday morning, remember for a few days how good forgiveness feels, get distracted, frustrated, repeat. But it shouldn’t be like that. I shouldn’t take it so lightly. I think I’m struggling with futility right now as well. Just that horrible feeling that no matter how hard I try, I’m going to be stuck in this spot in my life forever. Which is, in itself, a turning away from trust in God, from relinquishing control of my future to His care. So, contrition and trust.
A few things I’m especially grateful for today: my good friend Matt, who opened his own insurance agency and got me a better deal on car insurance! What a grown-up thing to be grateful for. Also, it’s my turn for a weekend at the beach! I’m going to Longport to spend Labor Day weekend with my relatives there. Counting down the hours!
Today, I am not going to worry about tomorrow.
Mother Mary, comfort me.
Heart of Jesus, help me.
August 27, 2015 § 1 Comment
August 27th, 2015
My prayer right now is to come to a better understanding of my day-to-day vocation from God. To find my balance between being in society, being a part of this crazy mixed-up world, and keeping my interior thoughts and heart focused on Jesus and the things not of this world. Balance has been on my mind so much lately, as such a necessary part of life. I know I feel better in every way when I spend time in solitude and quiet prayer with God,, but I also know I’m an extrovert and it energizes me to be around people, laughing and talking and staying up late. The struggle to find the balance between these two ways of life is what I’ve been working on for a while now.
A few things I’m especially grateful for today: a few days of quiet at the house for me and my dad… while the rest of the family is on vacation down in Longport! I’m so grateful for my relatives who share their blessings with us, like the beach house. My mom texted me that she’s saying her morning prayers on the porch of the beach house, with the early morning breeze and the sound of crashing waves for company.
Today, I am not going to worry about: money. Ha.
Mother Mary, comfort me.
Heart of Jesus, help me.
August 26, 2015 § 1 Comment
August 26th, 2015:
My prayer right now is to take things one day at a time, to remember that Jesus’ love is stronger and greater than any human love, to be quieter, to focus more on my daily prayers. To reach out to a sister more and be a better friend to her. To be more patient with people. If I truly feel that God’s vocation for me right now is to be out among so many people, to be “all things to all men” (as Elisabeth Leseur said so many times in her wonderful book!), then I need to live up to that with everyone, not just the company it is easy to enjoy. To not let my emotions sway my spiritual life so much. This has been one of the hardest lessons of heartbreak: realizing how focused on a human being’s love I have been. I always used to quote that one book (Not A Sparrow Falls) “the arms of flesh will fail you” and be so sure I wouldn’t ever be so focused on a person’s love that it would shake my faith in Jesus, but as usual pride goes before the fall, and that’s exactly what happened. I know Jesus’ love is better. I know all the right things, I just need to figure out how to put them into practice. Reading 2nd Corinthians right now, a chapter every other night, to give me time to think on the words. (So grateful for the wonders of modern technology sometimes: the USCCB’s online Bible is handy to have around, because if I forget what I read the night before, I can pop on it and refresh my memory.) Stab of pain in my heart when I read 2 Corinthians Chapter 3, because it has the verse about us being Paul’s “living epistles”… that we are the letter from God to be read by the world, and that verse has always reminded me of children, of raising children to love God and the Church, all the saints and angels and the beauty of Catholicism. So I decided to offer up the pain at not having children yet for all the mothers considering abortion. It made me feel a little bit better but I’m no saint yet.
A few things I’m especially grateful for today: Getting to see friends from out of town… Veronica, when she came in for the wedding…. Callie visited for a few days and we all went to Knoebels… I hung out at Ron’s apartment last night and had a great heart-to-heart with him and Erica. (It’s so funny to think that a year ago today, I didn’t know either of them, or Harry or any of his friends. They have brought so much joy into my life.) Ang is at the PNA Convention right now and was named assistant secretary of the convention!! Hahaha I shouldn’t even be surprised. Henry Rat appears to be the healthiest old man rat in the world.
Today, I am not going to worry about meeting up with Danny. I am not going to look back at all the mistakes I’ve made in the past year and a half and wish that I hadn’t. I’m going to pray and focus on the daily good things.
Mother Mary, comfort me.
Heart of Jesus, help me.