Life's Not Fair

You hated hearing this as kid. Admit it.

Because a kid's view of the world includes cotton candy and Playstations for everyone, without chores and unkindness. A kid seems to ask, "why not, adults, if you really are in charge, why not make these things happen? Make it be fair."

But it ain't. Either new guy in the president's chair won't change that, nor will an expensive bill intended for banks to have all their cotton candy and start lending again.

I had a couple things happen recently at work that turn the big, round spotlight on just how not fair things are. They won't be "fair" by some definitions for a long time. Paul and I have friends who are suffering great unfairness in the form of illnesses and loved ones who are looking for jobs in this difficult economic environment. Dictionary.com defines fair as free from bias, dishonesty, or injustice. But who decides what is biased, honest, and just? Present society suggests we do--- each individual has the right to decide what is fair to his or her standard. And that clearly makes no sense, because how can we all be "right" in our definitions without imposing on another's right of fairness?

Thank God that he's the God of all Grace, the God of all people. Grace gives fairness a break. It says the world is unjust and it's not going to ever operate without unbias because of separation from God. It will always expect more from you than you want to give. But grace-- grace is God's bridge. Grace says "allow me to show you that unfairness isn't the thing." It's abiding in God even when things just suck.
1 Peter 5 v. 10 And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.

We Vote Tonight!

Hopefully.

Paul and I are going to try to do the early voting thing because of traveling to Indiana during election week. We picked up a copy of the giant, yellow sample ballot at an election office and I've been "browsing" the issues. There are amendments on determining personhood, whether the casinos should get roulette tables or not, and whether or not a company executive can be prosecuted for the illegal acts of the company. At least that what I think the amendments are about.

See, someone in the election office is falling down on the job--the person who writes the "Sample Ballot for Dummies" version.

This person would take the legalese, terms like: concerning the manner or pursuant to the constitutional limit or all enterprise payments to the city shall phase out, etc. Now when you use the term enterprise and phase in the same sentence-- all the other Star Trek geeks out there and I immediately assume this issue is about the new JJ Abrams Star Trek movie... the one where Syler is Spock. If we vote 'yes', do we get a premiere party here in the Springs?!!?

Yes on 201!

So election office writer people, this editor suggests revising:

Concerning the manner = This is about
Pursuant to the constitutional limit = Until you cross the line
All enterprise payments to the city shall phase out = Beam me to a voting booth, Mr. Scott

I also recommend you stop using all caps on your sample ballot as it looks like you're yelling. That doesn't seem very patriotic.

Speaking of election, as a longtime fan of Don Miller, I've appreciated his approach at sharing why he, as a Christian, is supporting Barack... as are Paul and myself. Here are some links that share insight into that support, in case one should be interested.

http://donmilleris.com/2008/10/03/on-the-campaign-trail-in-mi-in-nc-va-and-oh-this-week/

http://www.matthew25.org/paf/index.htm

Post Office

Here at the "post office" (brown couch)I sit. The house is rounding into shape with the addition of a "transitioned" storage unit in the dinning room and the impending arrival of the last vestiges of stored furniture (love seat and leather ottoman). There will be a reading nook and formal living room. Being surrounded by BOOKS, this is going to be the center of our house and we are excited at the thought of displaying our books and enjoying quiet reading by the fire in the first fall and winter in our Home! 

Pics to come

Our Backyard

No, not the backyard of the house... although there's a good bit of debate at Casa Marchese these days about the merits of a leaf blower. We have a perfectly good rake.

I owe pictures from the back-East vacation tour where much fun was had with friends and family. Big thanks to anyone who housed us, fed us, or celebrated our good fortunes with us.

We returned to tackle the next stages of nesting in the new house. Translation: a week of couch-potato, cable TV-indulging, crashing.

But since Paul has the extremely-rare Saturday off this weekend, my blood is pumping again-- particularly to get out and enjoy Colorado fall before it's passed. We're actually lucky it's lasted this long but we've enjoyed a couple of weeks of moderate weather and I'm hoping the aspens are clinging to their bits of gold like Lucky and his Magically Delicious Charms.

The tricky thing is deciding which direction to head. The best northern leaf peeping comes with Elk bugling and it's in Rocky Mountain National Park, outside of Estes Park. But we've been there a few times {Paul's only been once-last October and it snowed}. West leads to Buena Vista and Salida and the stunning Collegiate Peaks. The drive southwest to Cripple Creek pulses with a rich vein of aspens in the mountainside and the little once-mining-now-gaming town has an endearing community theater is doing some Frankenstein show. That's a good keep-local option since it's only about 90 minutes. Southward lie the Wet Mountains, the Spanish Peaks and a ton of places either of us have yet to explore, like the Great Sand Dunes {I kid you not} or taking a ride on the Rio Grande Scenic Railroad.

Okay... so this post was shelved until Monday. We picked north, driving to Grand Lake - a mountain lake town neither of us had visited before that sits on the west side of RMNP. While our weather was mixed, Grand Lake was out of a postcard and we loved it-- especially the weekend breakfast buffet at The Fat Cat. On Sunday, we drove over the Trail Ridge road, up to the tundra fields at over 12,000 feet, above the clouds, and down through the aspens [east side of park aspens above] and evergreens to Estes Park.
As Horace Albright, director of the National Park Service in 1931 during the road's construction said, "You...have the whole sweep of the Rockies before you in all directions." Lovely time spent in the backyard.

Stinky Cheese House

Our new house is smelly.

Now Paul will tell you that I have super olfactory skills and there might be some truth that. It's not a desirable superpower like teleportation or speed eating. Falls right below being Yard Squirrel Whistler, I think.

The previous owners had a temperamental cat, it seems {As per new neighbor. Brief aside: the neighbor has published Acrostic books. How cool is that? How do you become a published puzzle crafter? I'm fascinated.} and I think the cat misbehaved but our very responsible, military couple homeowners worked to chemically remove the offending remnants, now leaving an unusual new connocotion. This is all conjection, mind you. It could be me.

But after living somewhere for four years, I'm probably used to how my old house smelled. This possessed environment isn't bright enough to adopt to our lemony fresh scent yet. How do you exorcise the ghostly imprint of old owner-smell? Other than sticking Rejuvenate or whatever they call it sticky, floral things all over the place? How many batches of chocolate chip cookies or pies does a happy homemaker have to bake? It probably would be more efficient if my hubby could conform to my "our smell" agenda and cut back on packing the fridge with the strong French, triple-cream cheeses. I don't want the house to get confused and think that's our scent.

The image is from the book, The Stinky Cheese Man. I love that book. But don't read it in my house--yet.

The Next Big Thing

Because I'm a publishing geek...

Based on browsing recent bestseller lists, of both Christian books and general market hits, I determined to develop {fast-track, of course} a novel set in a nineteenth century gold mining town, where a young hardened prostitute is taken in by tent revival preacher who speaks to the miners about how God really wants them to be rich and if they give him all their nuggets, they will strike gold and drive really fancy wagons.

He gets struck on the head by an angry miner and is dead for ninety-seven minutes before the prostitute-turned-bookclub maven revives him. He comes back—but is somehow changed into a vampire and she must flee her sudden, incredible attraction to him so she does a really hard thing, and runs off with her adorable-but-naughty yellow lab to eat in Italy, pray in India, and love in Indonesia… with purpose.

The book will be called The Hut.

Packed, Painted, Moved, Exhausted... it must be September

This summer's gauntlet has landed us here, one hand gripping loose dirt across the finish line, and barely coherent. Recent Septembers have been busy months, workwise and travelwise, and the coming weeks don't promise anything different. So we'll pull ourselves up, try to find the box with the clean clothes, pretend the shower doesn't leak a little, and get back to it.

But the dining room and family room are painted {much thanks to Sandi for all her help!} and we are completely moved in. We cut the grass-gone-wild with our craigslist-found Briggs & Stratton. I even cooked for friends on Sunday. And this view is definitely worth it. {I know I look a little crazed.}