A Night for Steinbeck

It's thundering outside, and I'm strangely comforted. It feels nice to be inside on a stormy night. I think I'll read; I've been looking around for a copy of the Grapes of Wrath, as I've been on a Steinbeck kick lately. I just finished the masterpiece East of Eden, and I loved the questions Steinbeck engaged. Of this novel Steinbeck says, "[This is] the big one as far as I'm concerned. Always before I held something back for later. Nothing is held back here." He dealt with the essence of humanity, the "never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil." The story is an allegorical retelling and re-searching of the Biblical tale of Cain and Abel (Genesis 4). It is a story of depravity, and deeply details our capacity for self-destruction; but it is also a tale of grace, love and humanity's painful struggle for acceptance. Are humans basically good or essentially evil creatures? Is a terribly evil person still a human being? Is there redemption, or grace, for humanity after a life of evil? Steinbeck only hints at an answer to this question,as a struggling man questions whether or not he is destined to a life of darkness because of the deep darkness that dwelt in his mother, and that he sees in himself. Steinbeck gives a glimmer, no, more like a strong ray of hope with the ancient Hebrew word found in the original language of Genesis 4: timshell [meaning, thou mayest]. With this word, he shows that there is redemption, even for the darkest of lives (1 Peter 2:9); there is a chance to overcome darkness and live a life of light. Thank God for this glimmer of grace, this redemption from our darkness. Thank God, because without it, the senseless, vicious tragedy of the Virginia Tech shootings would bring nothing but silent darkness. Without redemption, we would be mute, empty, lost in that silence. C.S. Lewis: "If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning." Thank God for His marvelous light--a light that may not explain the darkness to us in a way that we understand, but that gives us hope that that's not all there is.

Well, in the great words of Reading Rainbow, "Don't take my word for it! Find out for yourself when you read John Steinbeck's East of Eden. Take a look; it's in a book! Reading Rainbow!" What a great show.

Well, I must say, this weekend was delicious: crunchy new buds showing their faces and delighted joggers and dog-walkers in the park. Oliver and I are enjoying the damp air coming in through our open window (my new curtains are dancing). I worked at the hospital this morning, and it was hectic and great. I am thoroughly enjoying my new job in the Emergency Room, and am learning oodles of medical terminology (What's deep-vein thrombosis, you wonder? I learned today...), and it's going to be a great preparation for medical/nursing school. I am chum-chumming it with the docs and anxiously looking forward to joining the ranks of health care workers. James is out driving a car home from Boston (Who knew one could make money driving home from Boston? Count on James to find such work...). Well the rain is coming down quite hard now; I should go shut the windows...

One Fine Day in December

Well, folks, what you've all been waiting for... (ahem)....





Some MORE wedding pictures!!! And, if you're not satisfied with these, please feel free to view my (almost ready) wedding website of pics...HERE

What fun we had!


Check out how hard these guys are laughing!The photographer was about to wring their necks...

Drip Drip Drop

little April shower...I know it's only March, but the snow is melting! Hallelujah, the snow is melting! Everything is deliciously drippy and soggy, and mud is everywhere--a glorious sign that spring is here. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high, as many native Buffalonians have told me, "Just wait. We'll have a storm yet!" I growl at their probably-accurate predictions on the inside, but I'm choosing to live in stubborn optimism, because, my, what a different place this city is without icy streets and biting gales. I am just giddy to see the green grass and hear the bird warbling outside my bedroom window (which is now open!). Thank God for seasons. The snow was a novelty at first; but just as we were growing weary of having to put on 16 layers each time we went to the grocery store, the buds begin to pop out. Even my poor, pathetic houseplant, which until now has been fighting for every last leaf, is pregnant with new growth. This dripping day reminds me of a poem by the 19th century Jesuit poet, Gerard Manly Hopkins:

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed.
Why do men then now not reck his rod? Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

It is best read aloud, in my opinion, with lots of facial expressions. Besides enjoying spring, James and I are hard at work. James is reading furiously, with two presentations and a rather large paper due next week. I continue to edit; I'm in the process of looking for another job, hopefully in a medical setting (or I can just keep watching House, and secretly pretending I'm a medical specialist). Oliver, on the other hand, is obsessively looking out the bedroom window at the squirrels, wishing he were an outside cat. More pics to come, as soon as we get our dinosaur of a digital camera up and running.

No Place Like

Well, here she is. There's no place like...a little apartment. She's quite cozy, and we've got lots of big windows and sunlight. Small, but charming. We've spent many a day and night here hibernating. I suppose once spring comes and life thaws out up here we'll spend less time in her, but for now, she's all we've got.

Pemberley

This is what I see each morning when I wake up. The house across the way is beautiful and stately, and I like to imagine that it's called Pemberley, and that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy live there. It's a lovely way to start a day, really.