Oh, just more sad things

You know, while I was away from blogging I kept on thinking of things I wanted to write about.  I know people probably don't believe me on account of my occasionally loud external personality, but I do kind of  a lot of thinking.  (I may or may not be facetious right now.  I leave it up to you to decide what I would even have to be facetious about in this paragraph.  I make nothing easy on anyone.  I also might just be in a weird mood.  I might have finally redeemed my Starbucks birthday reward and gotten two extra shots of espresso in my caramel macchiato, simply because it was my birthday drink and it was freeeeee also I've always wondered what would happen to me with two extra shots of espresso and I think now I know.)

I never posted any of my musings because, well, this was a terrible year and I hated to admit to even myself that there were moments in which I was musing on other things.  But life goes thusly.

I went ahead and deleted all of those drafts this morning.  I just wasn't feeling it, also, venti Starbucks drinks sometimes, you know, make me delete things willy-nilly.  Anyhow, one of the posts I'd deleted had been some non-sensical musings (much like these?) about rings.

Rings?  rings.

You see, I remember years ago, seeing a widower, just a few months after his wife had died, with a bare left hand (had to Google which hand the wedding band goes on.  Left or right is not my best skill).  I had to wonder, looking stalkerishly at that empty ring finger, what sort of process it was to take that ring off.  What was the decision process, how did he decide it was time?  What sort of emotional toll does it even take on a human, to take off the symbol of commitment, because the person to whom you were committed has died?

It was kind of awful, actually, that day I noticed his bare hand.

But the reason I was thinking about it this summer, after all these years, was because I noticed another widower, whose wife has been with the Lord for the better part of a decade, whose ring is still firmly in place on his ring finger.  And I wondered: what does it feel like, to see that band, and know that its whole reason for existence is no more.  What sort of daily emotional roller coaster might that band represent?

I don't know why I didn't feel free to write about this over the summer, because it pretty much 100% matches my mood.  Which is to say: life is hard.  People make decisions all the time, people have to face those sorrows in the darkest cracks of their heart, and decide what steps to take, and what actions are right for them.  Because no matter what the choice is in this particular scenario (which is to say, when it's an appropriate time to remove a wedding band or not) it doesn't change the fact of it all, that the finality comes not with the removing the wedding ring or not, it comes with the painful separation that is death.  And I can tell you, I don't even have as much to be sad about as half the people I know, but my bruised-enough-as-it-is heart positively shudders at the thought of ever being in that position.  May the Lord grant immeasurable comfort to those who, for whatever reason, have to face these questions on a personal level.

Finally, a solution

I have a very sweet younger sister.  Everyone in my family (also, pretty much anyone in my whole life) knows that I don't know my left from my right.  So my dear younger sister decided she'd help solve the problem by giving me... socks.

Isn't that brilliant?  Now (as long as I put them on the correct foot) I can always just kick up a heel a read the bottom of my foot and viola! I know which foot is which.

And yes, I've included two photos, even though they're pretty much identical, because do you have any idea how hard it is to take a photograph of the bottom of your feet?  It's hard.  I'd say you should try it, only (as I said) it's hard, and unless you have a reason to take such a photo, it's probably not worth it.  So anyhow, behold, another picture of the bottom of my feet.

Things I Ought to Know

I decided the other day that instead of a bucket list, perhaps I should have a list of things I should know.  I mean, we should all know a great deal of things (I'm taking this wildly out of context, but as we all remember from Hosea 4:6, knowledge is kind of important.  Never reject it.  The verse obviously isn't talking about cumulonimbus clouds or anything, but I'm simply making the point that knowledge=important), plus, learn something new every day (my father would be so proud), but I feel like maybe I should have a list of things I should know/do/have.  And since I really do love lists quite a bit, I thought I'd turn my hypothetical musing into an actual list of things in no particular order.  I'm sure this isn't complete, but it's just sort of stuff that comes to mind.

Knitting.  I feel like every virtuous girl should be able to knit.  I... cannot.  Yet.  My friend Joy knows how, so maybe whenever I get around to visiting her, we can have a little session wherein she teaches me and I attempt to learn.

Have a cool vocabulary word.  My mom just found solidus the other day, which is basically a cooler/more intelligent-sounding word for, well, slash.  Good call, Muth.  I like to have a word and use it often enough so that I might never forget it.  Then I move on to a new one.  I tought everyone insouciant a while ago, just because I found it and it's swell.  I like to use words other than "like" and "um," though they do have their place.  Places.  Oh, and recently I was bringing back forsooth, and it sort of worked.  I have friends who use forsooth now.  I love it.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.  I was determined to know what it meant, because I always get it confused with the Higgs Boson thing, and after a long time of seeing stuff about the God Particle in the news, I decided to set it to rights in my head which was which.  So far, I never remember what the Higgs Boson thing is all about, but when I remember, I review the Uncertainty Principle in my head, just for kicks.  "It's impossible to simultaneously find the position and velocity of a subatomic particle.  It's impossible to simultaneously find the position and velocity of a subatomic particle."  I don't even know if that's 100% correct, but I had to break it down into layman's terms so I could even figure out what the principle was about.  No wonder they're so uncertain.

Have a favorite verse.  I read a book recently where the girl claimed the "In all things we are more than conquerors" verse and would quote it about every other page.  Personally, I'm still working on finding one.  I have different verses for different occasions.  For instance, I have a whole selection of verses for morning times.  I have Rejoice Evermore on my wall by the postcards I collect from my cool vacations, so as to remind me that ever situation and place is rejoiceable.  I (mis)quote the second half of Matthew 26:41 when I work out.  I remind myself of the first part of 2 Cor. 12:15 when I'm doing someone else's work for them and I know I should have a better attitude about it.  I I have other verses for other occasions, but I won't expand tediously on this point.  This point being that no, I don't have an all-time favorite verse.  Yet.  Perhaps I never shall.  I just sort of have a bunch I use at different times.  But I feel like I should have One Really Special Verse For All Occasions.  We shall see.

Know something cool about science.  My dad knows a lot of stuff about stars and... other sky-related things.  He has made it a habit to utilize the tools we have available to us in this modern age and learn.  That's cool.  I decided a while ago to re-learn stuff about clouds.  When I was in sixth grade or thereabouts, I had to know the difference between the cirrus and cumulus and all those types of clouds.  I'm ashamed to say that I can't remember them any more.  So I have resolved to learn something really cool (what?  clouds are cool!) and retain it in my feeble memory.

Figure out the Bible chronologically speaking.  I'm not going to lie.  For as many times as I've read through those Old Testament books, I still get hung up on which prophet was around when which king was reigning, and when those Persians came into play, and who was doing what.  It's hard to get it straight.  So I've been working on having a better grasp of what comes when.

Hepygroga.  I had a teacher in school who used to refer to geography as "hepygroga," which is an anagram of geography.  Anyhow, his point was that when you don't know where things belong, it's much more difficult to sort things out in your head.  Much like a proper chronology of the Bible is bound to help me when I read the Bible, a proper idea of geography will help me as I hear/read/observe the world around me.  Honestly, I'm terrible at geography.  The other day we were discussing In Search of the Source (great book) and whether or not the book is set in Papua New Guinea, and I couldn't even remember where that was.  So yeah, I've got work to do.  Sometimes I go to Google Maps (or Google Earth, whichever), and just sort of scroll around the world, seeking where I might learn more.  There are a lot of countries.  Goodness.

Have better handwriting.  At the urging my sister, who gently (coughcoughornotsogentlycoughcough) told me that my handwriting isn't even at an 8th grade level, I started working on handwriting with my younger sister.  We practice for about a half hour a day.  It'll probably still be an 8th grade level (I am what I am, alas), but you know what?  I'm working on it.  I am trying.

When to speak up and when to shut up.  This one speaks for itself.

Know what a gerund is.  My mom does.  She knows all those things about participles and parenthetical clauses.  I think that's genius.  To me, a gerund is confusing.  How can it do so much stuff?  I mean, "ing"ing stuff is a good enough job description, so why overachieve and perform as a subject, object, or whatever else it does?

Imaginary numbers.  I am sorry to admit, that I was rather... questionable at math.  And then I got to the part about imaginary numbers, and I thought, "They're just MAKING THIS UP????????" and I stopped paying attention.  One day I should really go back and figure out what an imaginary number is.  Honestly, I couldn't even begin to tell you.  That's so shameful.

ROY G. BIV.  Because everyone should have a tried-and-true way to remember the rainbow colors.  I also use a little acrostic (That He Just Peter Loves Grapes... virtue, praise) to help me remember Philippians 4:8.  And I still sing the Books of the Bible song in my head to help me remember where to find Ezra and Nehemiah.  I find it not at all shameful to get a little help from time to time.

Learn the rules to a game.  I one time Do Hard Things by the Harris Twins, and they said to do things outside of your comfort zone, and especially do more than just the things that come naturally to you.  So, while I don't think it's at all important in the slightest to learn the rules to football or baseball or another sports-type game that I have zero interest in whatsoever, I figure that next time somebody tries to explain such rules to me, I'll pay attention and thank them for their time.

Know when it's appropriate to follow a recipe--or not.  I've gone over this before, but but I find it easier to not follow recipes.  I'm doing my best to actually follow recipes in earnest.  It's not very fun.  I feel sorry for methodical people.

Anyhow, I could think of more things to list about, but then next time any of you ask me about it ("What kind of cloud is that?  Oh, you don't know?  What happened to that list?") I'd rather have fewer items to feel obliged to learn.  So I shall end it with this paragraph upon which you are gazing now.  This is truly the end of this post.  Now I go forth and learn, my friends!

An ode to dyslexia

When I was at Navy Pier we saw this statue.  Which I think is pretty cool, but we basically decided was a statue about what dyslexia feels like.  I can't claim to actually have dyslexia myself (though sometimes you'd think it, what with all the mixed-up talking and the left/right issues I have, as I've said before, haha), but I like to think about words in different ways.  Why write letters in a row?  Why not stack them all up in colorful statue?  Exactly.  Sometimes art is awesome.  The end.



I love it!

Not to go all Job on everyone (ever notice that Job talks about the weather pretty much all the time?), but the weather here is fantastic.  It was cold over the weekend, in the 40s, and I had to shut my bedroom windows so we could turn on the heat in our house.  It was a sad moment for me, as I try to acknowledge winter only when November rolls around.

But today is fantastic.  It's in the upper 60s and I just want to run across a field in my barefeet.  I just may do that, in fact.  My birthday falls on a Sunday this year, so I'm taking today as my fake birthday.  I slept in, haven't done a single virtuous thing all day, went to two bookstores and the library.

A marvelous birthday gift to myself, I must admit.

But seriously.  This weather.  I, like Job, shall call it "Fair weather" and declare it came from the North.  Obviously, I'm directionally challenged and don't know my left from my right or my North from my South, but it's fantastic, no matter where it originated.

Upside-up

When our family reads the Bible in the evenings, we have some rather odd traditions.  Well, I guess only one truly odd one.  Our Uno-like fashion of reading has mostly been relegated to breakfast readings, and in the evening we do nearly everything regular-type except for the fact that we read with our Bibles upside down.  And when we have company we let them choose for themselves, but we still read upside down, as there's no reason to change just for the sake of company.

So Monday night we had a friend of the family over, and, come time for Bible reading, we explained that we read upside down and he was welcome to join us.  So he did, no big deal, and read quite well.  Afterwards, he told us that he was pretty sure that it was easier, due to his dyslexia (I agree!  You see the word more clearly as a whole, and have less chance to mix up the interior letters).  I had no idea he suffered from dyslexia, but he said that it was so bad he was pretty sure that he would have gotten into Heaven even without getting saved.  : )  This may or may not be an exaggeration, but he and I had an amusing conversation about our dyslexic tendencies.

I've always claimed a little dyslexia.  Try to get me to tell my left from my right and you'd be hard-pressed to get a quick answer.  I mix up words and write backwards and when I look at the letter "s" I still don't know if it's forward or backward.  But I'm pretty sure that reading was just so important in my house that I never got the chance to be dyslexic.  Other kids would have been diagnosed and fretted over, but not us!  When I was quite young (I learned to read by the age of five or something, so it had to have been before that) I remember saying that I was special because I couldn't read yet, and all of my older siblings could, therefore I was special.  My logic has never been all that sharp.

So I'm thankful that reading was just something that we learned to do, somewhat akin to walking and holding a spoon correctly.  I can read just fine (mostly...) and feel that I'm not handicapped in any way.  And the knowledge I glean from reading is well worth the occasional mix-up of "scarred" and "scared."

Plus, if it ever gets confusing, I guess I could start reading everything upside down!

Right on

I'm right-handed. Mostly. Sometimes I write backwards and such, and I never know the difference between my right and left hands, but everyone tells me I'm right handed. Which, interestingly enough, means I probably chew more often using the left side of my mouth.

I'll have to check that out.

But that reminds me: did you know that your left lung is smaller than your right lung? That's just so the heart has a little more room, but still, how cool is that?

When I hear things like thing I just find it so remarkable that people often don't believe in the miracle that is life. How could we just happen? There's no such thing as uber-smart robots just falling out of the unknown and being able to function at the level of humans. Any level, really. I just don't understand.

Whatever the case is, I know I'll be paying far more attention to which side of the mouth I use to chew from this point forward. Who knows, maybe it'll confirm that I'm secretly left-handed after all!

Left and right

My sister forwarded me an email recently that had a bunch of brain tricks and optical illusions. Most of them were ones I'd seen before--counting all the fs in a sentence, catching all the "thes" in a sentence, seeing the old lady and the young lady, that sort of thing--but there was one in the email that I hadn't seen before. It was a video clip of a not-very-clothed lady spinning in a circle. The way you saw her turn determined which side of the brain you were using. (For a refresher course in which side does what, check this out.)

As most people who know me can attest, I don't have the best left-and-right skills. It took me a while to decide which hand was making a legitimate "L,"and then I realized that I was seeing this dancer spinning to the left. The description said that if you saw the lady spinning left, you were left-brained, and if you saw her spinning right, you were right-brained. If you could see her spinning both ways, your IQ was 160 or above. Well, I just couldn't imagine that I was left-brained at all, so I had to call my family to confirm that I had the correct left.

They came, and, once I explained my dilemma, they confirmed that I had, indeed, gotten my left correct. My brother saw the lady turning right, and my dad could see her switch back and forth at random. My mom also saw the lady turning to the right.

But as I looked, I realized that I saw the lady switching back and forth as well! Then my brother followed, though my mom could still only see her turning to the right. By this point I was curious (I've never taken an IQ test, and don't actually know what's considered high, but 160 just sounds a lot higher then my IQ should be) as to what brained I really was. So I pulled up a bunch of tests online and my brother and I took them, and found some fairly surprising results. For one thing, I have extremely high left-brainedness. I'm pretty much completely middle-brained, which means I have almost equal strengths on both sides, but I still am stronger in my right brain than my left (though not my much, which was where my surprise lay). As for my brother, he has stronger right-brain dominance than I! For those of you who know my brother and I, one might assume me to be the more right-brained among us, and he the left-brained. But apparently, assumptions are often wrong.

Of course, these tests are generic tests, potentially faulty. I might be completely right-brained after all, but I answer left-brainedly. Who even knows.