Until They All Write Again...

So my vapid existence continues sans the good writing of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. Yes, the shows are scheduled to come back on January 7 (one week!), but without their writing staffs. How will that go? Who knows?

But to tide me over (and you, gentle reader), here are some other items I've gathered from various sites:

>A cartoon video poking fun at the GOP line-up pre-Iowa: "Twas the Night before Caucus". (My favorite part: the sign that says "Huckabee/God '08".)

>An article revealing that John Edwards seeks to End All Bad Things if elected to office.

>Some good church-related laughs, courtesty of http://www.larknews.com/. A friend of mine received a lovely birthday present from the site which I am eager to see him use at work.

>This article on larknews.com reports that Calvin Sem grads did in recent "pastor draft" days.

>The Onion. Peel the satire and wipe your eyes.

2008? Enter laughing.

a thousand words

Friday Picture

Early morning on the Bright Angel Trail.

Friday Picture, with words

I took this picture at 5am at the start of a hike down Bright Angel Trail at Grand Canyon National Park. I was the only one on the trail at that time of day (at least, as far as I could see), and the morning was cool and the sunlight filtered through the clouds. It was lovely. My eyes were drawn upward for the first hour on the trail as I watched the sunrise and listened to the waking birds and the tread of my steps.

The tread of my steps has continued on to this day, near the end of 2007. This time of year leads to reflection for most of us as one years bleeds into another. I had some highs this year, such as my road trip to Arches, Grand Canyon, and Zion, my interview at Synod, and, of course, the Synodical decision that will lead to women's presence at Synod next year. Speaking at the CRC's 150th was enjoyable, as were some other speaking and teaching opportunities. And I started a new job.

But the year also had some deep lows, most notably the loss of my roommate and best pal, Meli. That link lists all the times I've written about her. It's quite a list. As my pastor reminded me via a prayer left on my voice mail, Meli was often an example of the presence of God in my life; she often pointed me to God. Without her, I feel lost in just about every way. Meli lived with me longer than my first husband did, so that's an additional insight into the depth of my grief. She was simply a great dog and a true friend. As my friend Meg said yesterday, "She knew all your secrets." She sure did.

In addition, there was that whitewater rafting accident which left me with a raised scar on the inside of my lower lip. I also lost the back half of my lower right incisor about 6 weeks ago, which mystified me and my dentist until he asked if I had suffered any trauma to my mouth. Well, yes. Apparently whatever hit my mouth hit my tooth hard enough to create a small crack, which then finally sheared off about 4 months after the initial hit. My tongue finds that spot incessantly, an ever-present reminder of that fateful trip.

I'm weary now, at the end of this year. The losses are fresh, and that filters how I view 2007. As one friend wrote in a sympathy card, "we are praying that 2008 brings much JOY."

Yeah. Me too.

Give Sorrow Words

I met my friend/pastor for warm beverages this week.

He looked at my tired face and said, "I'm going to give you some counter-advice."

I looked at him expectantly.

"People are going to tell you to get over the loss of Meli. Don't get over it." He paused. "Don't get over it! The depth of your grief reveals the depth of your love. It reveals that you loved her fiercely and that's what we love about you: you love deeply. It's what makes you who you are. So don't get over it."

I said, "I'm glad I bought you coffee!"

“Give sorrow words, “ wrote Shakespeare in Macbeth. “Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o’erfraught heart and bids it break.”

My pastor has a dog. The dog's name is Shakespeare.

Here Comes the Sun...

I felt a little better today, in large part due to the return of the sun to Grand Rapids. But even as I sat in a meeting this afternoon gazing out at the sun sparkling off the sem pond and the snow I thought, "Oh, it's so beautiful. When I get home I should take Mel--". Then I blinked back tears while trying to follow along with the meeting.

I have those starts of realization at least once a day. And all the things I used to do to get through hard times are gone: Take Meli for a walk. Go hiking with Meli. Cry into Meli's fur. So I stumble around the house not quite sure what to do with myself. My temptation is to replace the above coping skills with these: drink more gluten-free beer. watch more television. rent another movie. surf the net for old clips of The Colbert Report.

Not the healthiest choices. But they do allow me to tell you the following:

• Redbridge is the best of the gluten free beers I have tried.
• Waitress is a horrible movie and if you see someone with it at the video store you should slap it out of their hands.
• Ugly Betty is uneven--the story about her is okay but the back story about the family business is comic-book-esque and silly. I watched the first few episodes on DVD. The pilot was like a junior version of The Devil Wears Prada without Meryl Streep and Meryl Streep owned that movie.
  
• Nofactzone.net is the best Colbert site on the web. They are also covering the writers' strike well right now.
• Indecision 2004 Disc 3 covers Election Night 2004, the night when many states banned gay marriage. Kentucky banned it by by 92%, leading Jon Stewart to say, "Yeah, in Kentucky now you can't even look at a dude."
  

All of this: a word to the wise, people.

How . . . ?

As my incident with the tea kettle reveals, I am having some difficulty with daily tasks. Here are some others:

I don't know how to go for a walk without a leash in my hand and plastic bags in my pocket.

I don't know how to start my day without first letting a dog out. Should I shower first? Eat something? Make tea?

When I come home from work, I'm not sure what to do. Hang up my coat? Get the mail? Did I get the mail already?

I found this weekend when I ate some (gluten free) pizza I had all the crusts left. I looked at my plate with a furrowed brow until I realized that for 9+ years I had tossed all my crusts to the patient golden retriever sitting at my feet. Do other people actually eat their pizza crusts?

The front walk needs to be shoveled. I used to do this while Meli frolicked in the snow. It made a stupid chore enjoyable. Now it's just a stupid chore . . . that still isn't done.

I am writing this post from work. It's almost 9p at night. I have no desire to go home. This is going to be a problem . . . Unless: do they have showers here?