Friday Threads, Ash Wednesday Weavings and Star Shapes

It's been an unusual week, with a midweek worship service which meant that I moved the English classes that I teach online yesterday.  I've felt the week feeling like I'm not really sure what day it is.  Let me collect a few threads here, parts of a weaving that I don't want to lose.

--I went for a walk right after I got back from my drive to Spartanburg on Tuesday.  As I was walking down a steep hill (for those familiar with Lutheridge, it was just after passing Efird, heading down the hill to the main entrance), I heard a rustle and looked over.  At first I thought I was seeing a bird swooping low, but as the creature ran away, I realized it was a deer, and the white tail was what I thought was a bird.  Wildlife sightings that aren't birds still feel magical to me.

--On Tuesday evening, we went to a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at the Lutheran church that is right around the corner from us, a church where we have lots of connections, but I wasn't sure that we'd see anyone we know.  Still, we wanted to support the youth who are raising money to go to the nationwide youth event.

--It was a great event, pancakes with all sorts of toppings (berries, chocolate chips, whipped cream, syrup, real butter), pancakes that we ate on real plates.  As one youth said, "The church has these dishes, so we might as well use them."  The church also has an industrial dishwasher, which makes that decision easier.  We sat a table and caught up with people we don't see as often as we would like.

--The pancake supper started at 5:30, which meant we were done and back on our way by 6:45.  I need more events like this one.  Our local church also does a Pub Theology night, which I have enjoyed when we've gone, but it doesn't start until 7:00. Why is it hard for me to want to go to an event on a school night that starts at 7:00?

--It was great to have conversations with the youth group member who was our table's waiter.   And one of the youth members had a friend who was part of a jazz band that sounded much, much older (in a good, smoky-voiced kind of way) than their years.  These kind of events give me hope for the future.

--I had a great day on Wednesday baking bread.  I am still experimenting as I try to bake a bread that's tasty and easy for me to tear into bite sized pieces for communion.  One loaf got quite a rise.  This picture encapsulates much about my current life, from bread cooling to the two coffee makers on the counter to the poinsettias, still red and healthy:

--We had a lovely drive to Bristol,  TN on Wednesday afternoon, and on Feb. 14, that felt lucky indeed:  no snow/rain, and the setting sun was never in our eyes.  We heard a radio ad for term life insurance, which we both had as termite insurance.  The ad promised in a very gender specific way that an older man could get term life insurance (or, as we heard it, termite insurance) even if that man had diabetes or heart problems.  Hilarity ensued as we tried to interpret what we thought we had heard.

--I got this comment on one of my worship contextuality assignments:  "Thank you for your thoughtful reflection, Kristin. You have a keen and analytic eye."  My first thought was, me?--a keen and analytic eye?  I went back to the assignment, and yes, I do see why my professor said that.  What's more interesting to me is why my first impulse is to deny that I have a keen and analytic eye when it comes to my academic writing.  Hmm.  

--I know why, of course.  When I did my English Literature graduate work, I went straight out of undergraduate school, and I went from being a star student to being part of a group of stars, many of whom I perceived as shining more brightly than I could.  Looking back, I realize that was likely untrue.  Most of them just knew how to talk a good game.   The men were convinced of their brilliance, but I never saw their writing or our professor's feedback to their writing, so I have no way to judge.  However, decades of experience have shown me that those who blather on about their brilliance are not as brilliant as they think they are.

--Speaking of brilliant stars, I'll remember driving back across the mountains Wednesday night and seeing a star decoration shining through the night, a star made of Christmas lights strung in a star shape on a big board.  I had seen it as we drove across and wondered if the house still lit it up at night.  Wednesday night, the star shone brightly.