tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73137334026148324912024-03-18T23:33:28.594-04:00this woman's workBethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-64625688430339654502012-05-10T23:54:00.001-04:002012-05-10T23:54:38.992-04:007 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 2)<a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1387" height="195" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" title="7_quick_takes_sm" width="290" /></a><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>ONE</b><br />
<br />
I finally actually won a contest!! For realsies! That's <i>my </i>name at the top of the <a href="http://www.bettybeguiles.com/2012/05/its-a-mothers-day-giveaway/.html">contest post</a>! (The closest I've ever come before was when my friend Devin won all five extant Radiohead albums and gave them to me because he already had them all, sweet thang. Yeah that was twelve or so years ago.... Moving on.) I won a bunch of great stuff from the delightful <a href="http://www.bettybeguiles.com/">Betty Beguiles</a>, including a signed copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Style-Sex-Substance-Catholic-Consider/dp/1612785727">Style, Sex, and Substance</a>, which I cannot wait to read, the new <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006UYDEI0/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=bettbegu-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B006UYDEI0">Audrey Assad CD</a> (love seeing her career blossom--and I also like to pretend that the successes of anyone I'm even vaguely connected to will automatically rub off on me), and <i>a collection of Sephora samples</i>, among many other awesome things (moleskine journal--heart!). I try to spend my days sitting by the front door now, so <strike>the UPS man is treated to a good look at my baby-breakfast-laden yoga pants and sweatshirt before he escapes into his truck</strike>I can open the package as soon as it arrives.<br />
<br />
<b>TWO</b><br />
<br />
Things that should not have changed: The Battlestar Galactica theme song (from the first season version). The recipe for Dawn. My three year old's enjoyment of sleep.<br />
<br />
<b>THREE</b><br />
<br />
James (12 months old now) has started copying us <i>a lot</i>. He's saying words and mimicking facial expressions. He even folds his hands when we say grace before meals--although I'm pretty sure he thinks we're all just getting ready to clap and he wants to join in. Which makes sense, actually, considering Stephen's enthusiastic rendition: "BLASS US o LERD, and DESE dy GIFTS we are aBOUT to reCEIVE from dy BOUNTY. True CHRIST our LERD, AAAAAMEN! In da name a da FODDER, SONNNN, and hoLY SPIRitAAAAAAAAMEN!" Encore, encore!<br />
<br />
<b>FOUR</b><br />
<br />
Laurence Olivier was truly a genius. Whether Peter Sellers was an equal or a greater genius has yet to be decided...but this should help.<br />
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<br />
<b>FIVE</b><br />
<br />
And here I am, stalling after #4 again. It's my default setting. Thou shalt have four quick takes, and four quick takes alone shalt thou have. Thou shalt not have three quick takes, and neither shalt thou have five. Seven is right out.<br />
<br />
<b>SIX</b><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
This week I started fantasizing about potty training both boys at once. Wait a few more months, until James has taught himself to read and possibly cook his own breakfast and helping me plan Stephen's 4th birthday, and then I'll park one on the toilet and one on the potty chair. They can pee together to their hearts' content while I go watch a movie. I heard somewhere that's how it happens.<br />
<br />
<b>SEVEN</b><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
I'm too old to turn on iTunes by myself these days, so my music enjoyment has been greatly enhanced by the addition of <a href="http://www.spotify.com/us/">Spotify </a>to my life. Recent obsessions include...well, stuff I already loved. I'm too old for new music. But I have very good taste. For example: Sia. Goldfrapp. Radiohead. The Flaming Lips. Janelle Monae (I guess she's new...still have a youthful spark in there somewhere). Daft Punk. Corelli. Go listen to Goldfrapp's <i>Seventh Tree</i> and tell me your day didn't just get better.<br />
<br />
For more quick takes head over to <a href="http://www.bettybeguiles.com/2012/05/7-quick-takes-friday-6/.html">Betty Beguiles</a>!Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-43717007714908300802012-05-04T16:19:00.000-04:002012-05-04T17:08:09.984-04:007 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 1)<a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1387" title="7_quick_takes_sm" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" alt="" width="290" height="195" /></a>
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt1"></a><strong>--- 1 ---</strong></p>
My <a href="http://sydneymcfearless.blogspot.com/2012/05/1-i-think-its-probably-best-to-get.html">sister </a>tricked me into doing this, my first quick takes. As usual. When we were kids (like, age 7), she tricked me into eating a PB&J with mustard on it (she told me she was putting strawberries on it), fooled me into believing our baby brother had decapitated my Barbie, and had me going for weeks--weeks!--that she had a friend with brain cancer. (I was a little confused about how she had a friend that no other friend or family member had ever heard of, but I regularly inquired after the progression of the cancer and fretted over the difficulties of facing mortality at such a young age.) She's made up for all this by promising to beat up anybody who gets in my way. She hasn't done it yet, but I'm totally sure she will.
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt2"></a><strong>--- 2 ---</strong></p>
I've been wanting to join in the quick takes fun for ages, but I have a disability as yet unrecognized by the Americans with Disabilities Act--an inability to be random. I've started countless quick takes posts . . . but after about take #4 I'd start struggling to come up with more, and then I'd realize all my quick takes revolved around a theme--which is totally legitimate, but most of the fun is the random snapshot of a moment of someone's life. Trying to be more random in my posts felt totally TTH. Like a middle school girl with no attention span who doesn't know what she likes yet, so she just says she's "soooooo random!" and then spends the whole day trying to prove it by squealing about whatever pops into her head. I love reading everybody's, I just can't quite seem to generate one (. . . until now?). And, like I said, Sydney tricked me into it, so here we are.
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt3"></a><strong>--- 3 ---</strong></p>
There are lots of important things I could be doing with my time, like working on my current editing project or parenting my children or paying my bills. But none of that matters right now, because I've found something so beautiful, all other cares dissolve. That thing is . . . warm vinegar, mixed with Dawn dish soap. If I told you it cuts through soap scum, I wouldn't be making false promises. If I told you it makes sinks and fixtures look brand new, I wouldn't be lying. If I told you it's the best granite cleaner I've ever used, I wouldn't be telling tales out of school. If I told you accidentally inhaling the spray mist would make you hack up a lung, I might be exaggerating a little bit. But seriously, folks, this stuff has changed my life and made my bathrooms and kitchen and dining room table and Stephen's tricycle and the living room box fan beautiful, fresh, even sparkling. (You've probably seen the recipe floating around Pinterest--just one part warm vinegar to one part Dawn in a spray bottle. Mix it a bit. Spray, scrub, rinse. Relive the magic of having new things.)
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt4"></a><strong>--- 4 ---</strong></p>
So I'm not usually a coupon clipper. I love the idea, but keeping up with the activity, organizing the coupons, and having them with me at the appropriate time is all somehow beyond me. Target coupons, however, I am all over. Since I can only run one errand at a time avec les enfants, I'm never combining a Target trip with any other errand, so I have a dedicated Target coupon folder, organized and up to date--and I actually use them. I know, I know--just grasp that chair and put your head between your knees, and you'll feel better in just a few minutes. I'll warn you the next time I try to be consistently competent with something.
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt5"></a><strong>--- 5 ---</strong></p>
Today I left the kids with my mom and went to the doctor, and I felt giddy and light--I was on a <i>solo outing</i>! I seriously need to get out more.
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt6"></a><strong>--- 6 ---</strong></p>
Texas Pete, I don't know who you are or where you've been, but I know where you're going: into my mouth.
(To clarify, I'm talking to a condiment. One that's really good on eggs.)
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAnoxBMFjde-WaaHFsFekcLa2vxxt-BwCPBL_V_Ccxid3uW7UgitECqwvUk0vlgy2t_pTWsG-dLEZN9FJAKpS5rhzx2uP9PuKWESklhwENDwwZIBbuls7PGR0dbQrsPyUJXsGgn4Phj8m/s1600/texaspete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAnoxBMFjde-WaaHFsFekcLa2vxxt-BwCPBL_V_Ccxid3uW7UgitECqwvUk0vlgy2t_pTWsG-dLEZN9FJAKpS5rhzx2uP9PuKWESklhwENDwwZIBbuls7PGR0dbQrsPyUJXsGgn4Phj8m/s320/texaspete.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="text-align: center; font-size: 130%;"><a name="qt7"></a><strong>--- 7 ---</strong></p>
I did it. (~pant, gasp, splutter~) I did seven. I don't know how. I need a drink.
<p style="text-align: center;">For more Quick Takes, visit <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com">Conversion Diary!</a></p>Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-54359517558758009182012-04-27T10:12:00.000-04:002012-04-27T10:12:07.024-04:00Hobbies<i>Clearly</i> I need to do more with my life than not get dressed, not clean my kitchen, and not fold my laundry. But I need to take this slowly--I don't want to get all excited about a hobby idea, do a bunch of research online and convince myself a) my life will never be complete without this hobby and b) this will make my family's existence so much better they'll start praying to me and maybe even build me a shrine whereat they leave me daily offerings of ice cream as though I were some sort of Indian cobra goddess. (People leave out bowls of milk for snake gods, right? I'm not making that up?)<br />
<br />
So, this has to be a hobby that requires<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>little-to-no monetary expenditure, unless I can justify it as being for the household, like furniture reupholstery, or HGTV-watching, or extreme couponing (I do enjoy cutting paper with scissors...);</li>
<li>little-to-no regular sleep--no operating heavy machinery...except cars carrying small children, large appliances operating near small children, and doors blocked by small children mid-tantrum;</li>
<li>little-to-no space--I have no craft room, no desk, no attic, no basement, no crawl space, no closet space, no shelf space, and very little mental space. (The hobby is kinda supposed to fix that last one.)</li>
</ol>
<div>
I've already considered and discarded many excellent ideas--writing, reading, needlework, photography, coloring, singing in the shower, getting dressed, cleaning my kitchen, folding my laundry (into origami), and Zen Buddhist meditation. Plenty of options that cover bettering my environment, clearing out my brain, avoiding my brain at all costs, being more active, being less active, or being completely inactive. I could just pick one of these and go with it...but then what do I do when I get bored with it next week?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
New hobby idea: Watch <i>Cars </i>every day. It fits all my numbered criteria, requires no special preparation--and I can do it regardless of state of dress, health, or mental awareness. I'll learn more via observation about the intricacies of digital animation, feature-length film plotting, and literary character development. I'll memorize all the words to Sheryl Crow's "Get Gone" and James Taylor's "Our Town." I'll be able to list each of Luigi's tire offers to McQueen--so far, the one thing I know is that they actually get progressively worse each time (I can feel you getting more impressed with me already). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This may take some convincing of Stephen--currently he only wants to watch it about 5 times a week. I'll just have to employ my sparkling powers of preschooler persuasion (they're vampire powers). It's important not to let your personal interests be neglected, even--especially--if that means your children don't get what they want all the time, so they aren't spoiled and you aren't burned out. Priorities.</div>Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-57425876739341065142012-04-12T13:34:00.000-04:002012-04-12T13:34:13.435-04:00Real Housewives of Anne Arundel CountyEat it, "Bethenny" Frankel. I have my priorities straight. No plastic surgery, no ghostwritten book. I also know how to spell. And all those Marthas on Pinterest who make ice cream and pinwheels and silk screen scarves with their clean, smiling children--is it fun taking all morning to prep, spending most of the activity making the kids hold still so you can get good pictures, and then cleaning up after they've melted into a puddle of tantrum in a puddle of ice cream and silk dye?<br />
<br />
Like I said, priorities:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Priority 1: Keep Children Alive. </li>
<li>Priority 2: Make Dinner. </li>
<li>Priority 3: ...It depends. Some days, Get Dressed. Others, Do Laundry. Sometimes even Don't Yell At Stephen For Being A 3-Year-Old. I like to mix it up. You gotta keep things fresh. </li>
</ul>
<br />
Regardless of the status of Priority 3, to be a successful working mom-on-the-sit I always focus on my goal and I never make myself feel guilty for neglecting those specialty tasks other mothers use to try to impress each other.<br />
<br />
Like kitchen hygiene.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd9tSfEhehKn4fktH94J4V5aZDUhR_SfcveKpsqOzUqrHfGjQuoTVSd71Goovqa6HdmrIN1i6TaP5zOYjkWLhgtXd2oyStfXUkjq_r9Hbmu8cx1Rcde1LA2xpvVoGbOUeZmyjWt7NXqPR/s1600/IMG_20120412_104803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd9tSfEhehKn4fktH94J4V5aZDUhR_SfcveKpsqOzUqrHfGjQuoTVSd71Goovqa6HdmrIN1i6TaP5zOYjkWLhgtXd2oyStfXUkjq_r9Hbmu8cx1Rcde1LA2xpvVoGbOUeZmyjWt7NXqPR/s320/IMG_20120412_104803.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Or decorating.</div>
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Or bed-making.</div>
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Or showering.</div>
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(I do, however, make love to the camera.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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My goal? Don't leave the house. It makes everyone tired and hungry, I spend too much money at Target, and I start getting wild ideas about being informed while listening to NPR on the car radio. Dangerous. So far I've got a 98% success rate. (The internet really helps here, if I find myself at loose ends.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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Why waste time and energy trying to keep up with the Frankel, or Martha? I'll only end up rich, famous, and thinking that 41-year-old me should be played by Mila Kunis in the movie of my life, or making brownies with Snoop Dogg. Actually that last one might be kinda cool.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Most importantly, in the pursuit of my goal I will spend time with my kids, which is the greatest gift a mother can give her children. That, or check <a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/">Hyperbole and a Half</a> for a new post. It's been a while.</div>Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-87929998231434492242012-03-12T10:20:00.001-04:002012-03-12T10:20:32.662-04:00Everybody Drink Chai!I knew chai was delicious and suspected it was nutritious. It also seemed to help me lose weight when I drank it regularly. Now, info revealing chai is in fact a wonder tea! Those Indians know a thing or two about consumables (cf any Indian restaurant lunch buffet).<br />
<br />
Links regarding the health benefits of...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>black pepper: <a href="http://www.indepthinfo.com/pepper/health.shtml">http://www.indepthinfo.com/pepper/health.shtml</a></li>
<li>cinnamon: <a href="http://lowcarbdiets.about.com/od/nutrition/a/cinnamonbenefit.htm">http://lowcarbdiets.about.com/od/nutrition/a/cinnamonbenefit.htm</a></li>
<li>ginger: <a href="http://www.healthdiaries.com/eatthis/10-health-benefits-of-ginger.html">http://www.healthdiaries.com/eatthis/10-health-benefits-of-ginger.html</a></li>
<li>cardamom: <a href="http://www.nutrition-and-you.com/cardamom.html">http://www.nutrition-and-you.com/cardamom.html</a></li>
<li>cloves: <a href="http://www.indepthinfo.com/cloves/health.shtml">http://www.indepthinfo.com/cloves/health.shtml</a></li>
<li>anise: <a href="http://themodernherbal.com/2010/12/star-anise-health-benefits/">http://themodernherbal.com/2010/12/star-anise-health-benefits/</a></li>
</ul>
<div>
I'll let you look up the benefits of black tea and honey (if you add it to your chai) your own dang self. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I guess I'll be living forever now. Pardon me while I go brew another cup.</div>Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-63858091429126641792011-01-30T09:36:00.003-05:002011-01-30T10:12:11.864-05:00It's Not Writer's BlockI realize it's been about a year since I last posted. An eventful year it's been (but aren't they all). But it's not writer's block. It's more like writer's anxiety. Or writer's terror.<br /><br />My problem with blogging is that I craft a piece of writing (literary value TBD), and then I just throw it out into the vast, anonymous interwebs. No control over how it will be received or interpreted. The context in which the ideas are created is utterly divorced from the context in which it is read. That's really not how I roll. I am a reader of atmosphere--how I interact with those around me is greatly dependent upon who is where and why. Without all those touch points, I'm lost.<br /><br />Which me should I be when I blog? The me who loves<span style="font-style: italic;"> South Park</span> and the greatness of 90s rock? The me with a husband and a kid-and-a-half and a house to clean? The me who takes two hours to do her nails? The me who is a project management editor? Perhaps you can see not only my confusion but also the high likelihood that I will bore and confuse the reader. Cuz if I'm not writing a housekeeping blog, nobody wants to hear about my stain-laundering procedures. And at that point, my primary reason to write becomes something along the lines of "right now I'm really excited about myself I bet people will think I'm cool if I write about <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> like <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span>!" Tedious.<br /><br />This is an age-old dilemma: why should anyone listen to you? (Right now, for one person, I have the age-old response of "because I said so." We all know that won't last for long.) Traditionally compelling reasons include "because I am the expert" and "because I am awesome" (or something like that--Plato may have said it better).<br /><br />So, expertise. . . . Well, my son, who is a "late-talker" but suddenly acquired a decent little vocabulary last month, suddenly decided yesterday he will only say "oh no!" in any and all circumstances. I could tell you all about that. (Just did, in fact. . . .) Expertise. . . . Ellipses are three conjoined points, which should not break over the end of a line, and the "fourth point" is really just a period; in quoted material, this period should be closed against the text if it's the end of the sentence and separated from the text by a character space if it's not the end of the quoted sentence. That's Chicago style, anyway. Hm . . . Don't let kids play with sharp things or drink bath water (good luck) or eat cotton balls. (At least that was useful.)<br /><br />This blog will be big one day--I can feel it. Just gotta change this diaper first.<br /><br />If anyone got to the end of this wondering why they bothered, just know that it's all Sara's fault.Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-5916338728667851992010-01-06T21:27:00.004-05:002010-01-06T22:04:03.662-05:00On Taking a Sick DayNo onwe will read this--but that's fine! I just want to write. And that way I don't have to feel guilty about not providing any details of my year-long blog absence. (Blogsence?) Or thew extra ww my dying iBook G4 likes to throw in at random moments, just to let me know it's still got a little something special.<br /><br />Yesterday afternoon I went home sick. I had one of those deep, clotted coughs that clogs your vocal chords and alerts those miles away to your presence. Coversations were difficult, since I could only make myself heard for half of them (and who could predict which half?), and laughing hurt my chestal cavity (there's a lot of laughing at my office--restrained, cubical-appropriate laughter about erudite topics and literary masterworks like <span style="font-style: italic;">Butterflies in Heat</span>). I became a pariah, a roving health hazawrd. If I wandered from my cube, Laura would look at me like she thought any moment I might turn myself inside out, phlegmy organs wriggling, and touch her. Michael pointed and laughed, knowing his weeks-old immunity from this office-wide epidemic would keep him safe. When I handed anyone paperwork, they would first pull on hazmat gloves and use lead tongs to take it from me before spraying it down with disinfectant. In my defense, I always wwwashed my hands before printing anything out to give to someone.<br /><br />My protests of "it's better than it sounds" meant nothing. Some could only think, "Thanks for saving the worst part for me to listen to all dayww." For others, weach cough was as a death knell--eventually they, too, would be stricken, and they, too, would have to work through voicelessness, wheezing, and choked bronchial tubes. No one appreciated my heroic stance, working my infected, sanitizer-gelled fingers to the bone as I typed out cover copy after cover copy. No one wanted to be within ten yards of me. But that, sadly, is the lot of a hero--unappreciated in her time, mourned only after she is gone. So basically I'd need to do something really awesome, so that everyone would miss me when I went to run errands at lunch time.<br /><br />However, before lunch time--I got sicker. I started getting chills--not too strange, since the heater wasn't working that well. Then I started getting dizzy--stranger, since I assume no one was releasing gasses into the building. Then my whole body started to ache. And then I began to consider finishing up the day with some sick time.<br /><br />And here I am now, at the end of a second sick day, better rested and with a far less interesting cough. Tomorrow I shall merely annoy my cube mates, rather than toll the bell.Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-81974428808320974472009-02-26T19:24:00.003-05:002009-02-26T20:33:28.572-05:00Quick! What's 40 times 1?Sooooo obviously my whole "regular blogging" thing hasn't worked out so far...and there's no start in sight now that My Little Man has entered the world and desires my undivided attention. (What he doesn't know is...sometimes I think about ice cream! Ha ha! Take that, task master! You can't control me!) But MLM is currently on an outing with the rest of the household--one I am missing because of (hopefully) passing stomach grossness. So here, ladies and gents (can I say that? do multiple males peruse my scanty posts?), are a few recent thoughts.<br /><br />...abouuuuut Lent! Surprise! <span style="font-style: italic;">No</span>body else is writing about that, I know. So unique. But I'm going to do the coolest Lenten meditation blog of all: I will say nothing original, only flotsam I've gathered from other sites (primarily <a href="http://www.wf-f.org/index.html">Women for Faith & Family</a>), perhaps with a little comment.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Item 1.</span> The word "lent" comes from the Anglo-Saxon word "lencten" which refers to the lengthening days of Spring. Oh those Anglo-Saxon--they have a word for everything. "Lent" may sound dreary and dark, and draw up images of aceticism, sackcloth and ashes, and foregoing ice cream for a whole 40-day period. But actually it means that light and warmth are ever increasing, that each day the sun dawns earlier and burns longer for us. It also means that the days of regular trips to Rita's are fast approaching. (Can I get a shout-out for March 6?!)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Item 2.</span> The 40 days of Lent especially commemorate Christ's 40 days of fasting, prayer, and temptation in the desert, in preparation for His earthly ministry. Personally, I can't think of anything that induces temptation like fasting (except maybe perpetual indulgence...one of those "damned if you do, damned if you don't" scenarios, life...). And then on top of that, Jesus has to deal with a social call from Lucifer. And what does Our Lord say? Not "well <span style="font-style: italic;">maybe</span> if the stones turned into ice cream..." which would have been perfectly understandable, especially as I am led to believe it was a very hot day. No, he whoops de Debil all up and down with some very apt Scriptural quoths. Good egg--and in a "famished" state (says so, right in the Gospel According to St. Matthew). Usually <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> famished mood leans toward the petulant. But I guess Lent is supposed to whoop me up and down a bit, so I learn not to follow "I'm famished" with "so give me whatever I want"...but perhaps something a little more charitable.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Item 3.</span> Lent prepares us for the commemoration of the Passion and the 50-day-long hoorah of the Easter season. Idn't that just like the Almighty Father? "Now you're going to spend a little time learning about love. Then, as a special treat, I'm going to sacrifice my only Son for you, give you eternal life and peace, and throw you a big party! Sound good?"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Item 4.</span> Some other Biblical periods of 40, for your consideration: the rainy days of Noah's flood (after 120 years--40 times 3--of ark-building and preaching); the years the Israelites wandered in the desert between the Exodus and arriving in the Promised Land; Elijah's fast on Mount Horeb before the visit of the still, small voice; the peroid of clemency in Jonah's prophecy of the destruction of Ninevah. Think about the themes these stories protray, and you'll find practicing Lent an excellent way to live out the life of the 40: purification, waiting on God's faithfulness and redemption, close communion with God, seeking Him out, His awaiting our response to His call to repentence, and of course our repeated returnings to Him (however grand or small)--what RC folks call "continuing conversion".<br /><br />Now the only question is how to keep up even the smallest acts of Lenten devotion for 40 whole days. I'd appreciate any practical tips you've got for that. On this, my third awareness of the Lenten season--I won't say "observance" because I can't pretend I even got past week 1 with any consistency--I find a pleasant familiarity with its rhythms; ironic, as that familiarity is itself a new feeling...but I'd really like to make some actual progress this year. You know, something beyond feeling guilty every Sunday as I am reminded it's Lent for the first time in a week by the seasonal markers in Mass, and promptly forgetting again Monday morning. I've got that down. I'm up for something new.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Joyeux fasting!</span>Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-33876658808362340812008-10-05T14:50:00.002-04:002008-10-05T15:06:51.378-04:00Relationships at workHow do you know you know a person? Usually we can tell when we really know someone, or when we don't know them--or at least, we've felt the rude smack of realization that this person we thought we had figured out is in fact someone else entirely. Then in other relationships, we keep trying to know the person but a vague sense pervades that some vital component of their person is hidden to you. This may be somewhat intentional on their part--if they have something to hide, or they don't trust you enough to open themselves to you. Or it may keep happening in a relationship no matter how hard both of you try to reveal self and understand other: somehow, the two of you are different in such a way that there are parts of each (sometimes substantial parts) that can't be communicated to the other. Who knows why. It may be variations in how you each perceive the world, or stage in life, or in values or thought processes or even just taste or style. Whatever it is, it's there. Similar differences may have no bearing on other relationships, but somehow it matters to these.<br /><br />That makes me wonder even more about the relationships that <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> work. The ones that don't tend to stick in our craw and we try to figure them out. The relationships that work best offer us a place of respite and comfort, a place where we can take communion for granted, in the very best sense. They become those rare and treasured spaces in life where we know <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> is how life is supposed to be. Trying to figure out why they work might jinx them.<br /><br />I think though, really, we're just as clueless about why those work as about why others don't. It's like asking a happily married person how they knew their spouse was "The One" (assuming they believe in soul mates). They almost always give the highly unsatisfying answer, "you just know" or "it just works." Thanks guys, really helpful, thinks the single friend. That does nothing to help me know whether the way my girlfriend and I relate "works."<br /><br />Currently being a person who dispenses such an answer, I'm sorry. But that's all I've got. Yeah, shared values and goals are important, bringing out the best in each other, and similar backgrounds can be helpful. But I didn't even know some of what the best of me was until I was dating my husband. Some of my values evolved through or simultaneous with my initial friendship with him. You never really know yourself or another person completely, so how do you even know why exactly you relate the way you do?<br /><br />A friend once advised me, back when I was a single lass trying to make a final decision about a relationship I wanted but couldn't seem to get functioning smoothly. She told me, "You know the relationship will work when in the midst of problems, you know you will crawl through anything to get that person back." She said that not discounting the above-mentioned factors, as well as things like maturity and just liking each other (which often falls surprisingly low on people's list of priorities). But she wanted to highlight that almost irresistible love which flows naturally in good relationships and must flow most strongly in a marriage.<br /><br />Two things to say about that idea. One, in pondering that idea I came to discover the limits of my love for that particular gent--in certain situations, I knew I would do the crawling if I had to, but not because I wanted to. The natural limits of the love I had for him reflected the limits of our relationship. Later, when I dated my husband, I discovered within myself an unlimited love that reflected the "it just works" nature of our relationship. Don't ask me to explain why, cuz I have no idea. But that's how it worked.<br /><br />Two, while my friend gave that advice as a description of a relationship "just working", it can also be read as a prescription for how to keep moving forward in any relationship, regardless of its natural functionality. That's really what love is, in its essence--sacrifice of self for another. Being willing to crawl even when you don't want to, being willing to sacrifice both your petty demands and your real rights, being willing to wrap your efforts as a free gift to another person--that is love. That is the divine life in your everyday experience. "To love another person is to see the face of God," as they sing in Les Miserables. And the best part is that divine love is always an option for us. Whether or not a relationship clicks is irrelevant. Everyone I know can be loved, and with the grace of God I can be the one loving.Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-92031966964976609462008-03-31T22:01:00.000-04:002008-03-31T22:01:14.319-04:00True Believers<p>"I could go on listing my Christian accomplishments, but I think you can see that I was very serious about my faith, and that I am quite capable of analyzing religion from the inside out." (from <a href="http://ffrf.org/books/lfif/?t=lostfaith">here</a>)</p><br />What's fascinating to me about this--and many, many other similar articles I've read recently--is that longevity and sincerity of experience is regarded as a sufficient qualification for making judgments. I'm not saying the author lacks rational capacity. I just find it interesting that no one brings up skills in analysis as a component of their rhetorical ethos. The typical story goes,"I was really committed--a true believer. If <span style="font-style: italic;">even I</span> realized it was all a lie, then it really must be!" Someone could only lose strong religious faith because it isn't faith in anything real. And somehow once believing it was real--but eventually being able to see through all the lies--gives a person special insight into truth. So the story goes. Experience, rather than rational capacity, is what elicits trust from the audience and forms the basis of the author's assertion of his right to speak.<br /><br />Often study (sometimes impressively extensive) is also invoked as a qualification, which fits a little better with the argument that being a "true believer" is inherently irrational. But that's not always the case. The conversion experience--whether to religion or atheism or something else (like <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2006-10-23-gen-next-cover_x.htm">activism</a>, the hot new post-Christian morality for religiously disillusioned Gen Yers)--carries psychological hallmarks, no matter which direction you're turning. (Many of these authors don't seem to realize that applies to atheism, too.) That's what readers identify with, that familiar experience. That's what they trust, because that's what they know.<br /><br />The ironic thing is that these particular versions of the atheist attack on irrationality are based on experience. Not that experience is inherently irrational, or even that these authors are themselves irrational as they abandon their religion. (Some are, but a surprising number thought things through quite carefully, and fought very hard to keep believing.) But none of these authors set out the logical syllogisms that eventually convinced them to become atheists. They all record their <span style="font-style: italic;">stories--</span>and reader comments are either praise from those who identify or rebuke from those who don't. Each side has its case, but nobody seems to be making many converts without the shared experience that gets a hearing.<br /><br />O, the postmodern world! Veritas, quo vadis? ~pronounce in British accent, strike breast for emphasis~Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-63129632952041836472008-02-08T14:10:00.001-05:002008-02-08T14:10:34.018-05:00The virtue of hungerThis year I'm observing Lent. Last year I thought about Lent and attended an Ash Wednesday service at St. Stephen's Episcopal, and then forgot about Lent. But this year I'm actually doing it. Many reasons motivate me--a desire to establish new dimensions to my relationship with God, an increased interest in church tradition, simple curiosity about what it's like. These forty days are also functioning as a sort of final trial period (this year) in my quest to decide whether to join the Catholic Church; if this experience doesn't clarify some things for me, then I am not ready for such a commitment. <div> <br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Lent, of course, is the season of fasting: pick something you're too attached to (idolatry? dependency?) / isn't good for you (kick that habit!) / something that will be missed and abstain from it, offering it to God and deepening devotion to him through detaching from earthly life on some level (even if the thing itself isn't inherently bad). Of course, you don't really have to offer it to God--one lady I met on a past Ash Wednesday uses Lent to jump-start her annual diet, abstaining from sugar from Lent till after swimsuit season when she feels free to re-plump on Christmas goodies. Best of both worlds, right?! (As long as one of those worlds doesn't include the Beatific Vision.)</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>There's a little more going on in a Catholic Lent, from what I gather. First, life in the Catholic Church (and the Anglican and Lutheran churches) is shaped by liturgical seasons, which commemorate key events in the life of Christ (and, to a lesser degree, the lives of Saints). In this way, the life cycle of a Christian as she participates in the life of the Church is experientially connected to the paths of the Christ she follows, as well as tracing the footprints of those who have walked before her. Lent refigures Christ's forty days in the desert after His baptism, his fasting and preparing to begin His ministry--a ministry which culminates in His sacrifice on our behalf and His Resurrection. These forty days also carry the echos of other Biblical forties--Noah riding out forty days and nights of downpour in the ark, Moses' forty days on Mount Sinai communing with God and receiving the Law, the Jews' forty years wandering in the desert, Elijah's forty day-and-night trek to Mount Horeb where he heard the still, small voice of God, and the less popular forty days Jonah's prophecy gave Nineveh to repent. Another Catholic distinctive is the use of specific guidelines to shape commemorations: during Lent, one fasts (eats no more than one meal's worth of food) and abstains from meat on Fridays, refrains from festivities (hence Mardi Gras), devotes extra time to prayer and money or time for the poor. In Mass, the Alleluia and Glory to God in the Highest, very festive songs, are omitted and a longer confession of sin is used. Churches' icons and statues are covered. My parish is decorated with stark, bare branches rather than the usual blooms. Lent is a time of mourning sin, of denying self and pursuing God. Lent is a preparation for the desolation of Good Friday, and the glorious joy of Eastertide, which culminates in Pentecost.</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Catholic Lent can be seen as a concentrated renewal of the Christian's devotion to obeying God, in acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with Him. The three pillars of lenten observance are fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. To deny oneself pleasures, to give of one's resources to others, to devote oneself to time in God's presence--and to do all these in concert with the body of believers--certainly revamps one's perspective and sense of what's worthwhile. I find it impossible to actually get through one day--one day, much less a year or a lifetime--in conscious obedience to God. An entire season spent in corporate focus, with all its tangible reminders, is just the kind of ass-kicking a gal like me needs.</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>You see, I am perhaps the least disciplined person ever, and certainly so in my social circles. I'm lazy, I procrastinate (right now I should be reading Millenium Hall, or emailing Drew or Kate, or folding laundry), I avoid things I'm not in the mood for, I eat too much, I don't keep track of my money, and I never devote time to the things of God unless I'm curious about something or so wracked with doubt that I can't function unless I spend a few hours obsessively searching books and internet for insight. You might say my relationship with God is a highly dysfunctional one. And I wonder why I'm so resistant to following Him.</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>This year, my Lenten observance is an all-out attack on my star weakness (I'm using energetic language to help convince myself...thus far my "offensive" has included getting halfway through a pile of chicken strips before remembering that I wasn't eating meat that day). When I fast, though I eat just enough to keep my blood sugar from crashing dangerously, the edge of my hunger never really goes away. I feel weak, my mind is scattered, I crave salt. I am empty, dependent. But I am also simplified on some level. It's very hard to be proud when physically spent, somehow. My desires are present, but they cannot rule me as long as I don't carelessly or defiantly break my fast. As I repeatedly deny my desires, they become less insistent on being satisfied. The physical act begins to change my mind, my spirit. I have begun to crave a fast from all undisciplined behaviors--even dumb things like meandering around the internet instead of...well, just about anything I need to do. Who knew a wireless internet connection would be my undoing?</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Of course, only three days into Lent, this is still the honeymoon phase. Eventually my Lenten fast and prayer and discipline will get old, and I will eat too many cookies or read random blogs I don't even like for hours rather than write a paper. I will forget to pray, or worse, choose not to. Doubt will deluge my mind. Today's appreciation of Christianity will be tomorrow's repudiation, whether from a justifiable doubt or from self-centered stubbornness. Makes no difference; the day will come. I'm not really sure how I'll react to that. Hopefully, the habit of choosing to persevere regardless of my desires will already be somewhat formed. And hopefully, my past experience of admitting and simply living with my doubt will kick in, without prompting me to also trust the doubts themselves any more than is warranted. We'll see.</div> <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Whenever it comes, I'll still be in Lent--the season of lack, of wandering in the desert, of weakness, of temptation to abandon God...and of hearing the voice of God in unexpected places, of preservation, of turning from sin and being faithful to the gospel, as the Ash Wednesday pronouncement goes. I'll be surrounded by a church that consciously chooses to walk that road for forty days, and accompanied by a Savior that walked that road, Himself and with His people. If nothing else, it'll be a good place to start again.</div> Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-69924137072689041942008-01-26T22:16:00.001-05:002008-01-26T22:16:25.362-05:00Shopping Rules! <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">My friend Sara and I were shopping the other night. It was one of those friendship forging experiences--not because we weren't friends already, but because shopping reveals some fundamental things about a girl's attitudes about herself, her priorities, her personality. It was a night to remember. Also, we got a 1000-piece Klimt puzzle. All's right with the world.</p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">Anyhoo, as we trolled the mall I shared some of my shopping philosophies, whether Sara wanted me to or not. She told me I should blog them--probably to get me to stop talking about it long enough to let her buy some shoes. So, at the risk of plagiarizing every person who's helped me learn to shop, here's the extended version of what I blathered to Sara. </p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">My Rules For Shopping.</p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><b>1. Know thyself.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> This isn't about knowing your style preferences—those are changeable, and may determine where but not necessarily how you shop. This rule is about knowing your personality, habits, strengths and weaknesses. Do you procrastinate? Are you a details person or a big picture person? Are you a planner or spontateous? Do you mentally juggle with ease, or is your mind occupied with one thing at a time, in the present? Are you decisive or indecisive? Impulsive or hesitant?</span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">You need to know these things because you need to understand how you relate to shopping and the boundaries necessary to being clothed appropriately and having money left over for bills and such. You also need to be aware of how shopping affects deeply personal issues—body image, social position and relevance, lifestyle (especially when the one you have and the one you want don't match), age (in our beauty-obsessed culture in denial of death), money (put your money where your mouth is, actions speak louder than words…). You may already know shopping, say, makes you feel like a pile of crap. And you know that shopping makes you feel like crap because all overweight you wants is to look sleek in that vintage pleated mini-dress, but instead you look like a pear wearing a smashed paper fan. How often do you lose the smashed paper fan and buy a tent instead, in an impulsive fit of of self-loathing? How much clout and internal space are you willing to give those feelings? How much more do you pay attention to them than to your true dignity as a human, or to what your clothes say about you to others, or to how your wardrobe relates to what you want out of life? Knowing the emotional and social underpinnings of why you buy what you buy will help you sort out your shopping style—and develop and stick to good shopping habits.</p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">Even the less dramatic factors make a big difference in successful shopping. For example, if you're a procrastinator, don't buy something <i>close</i><span style="font-style:normal"> to what you want and keep looking with the intention of returning thing A later—because you won't return it, and then you will have spent twice the money you needed to, or you'll have clothes you don't really want. Don't even make that an option. Enjoy the freedom of preventing situations that don't fit your natural habits.</span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><b>2. Set goals and keep them in mind.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> It's pretty easy to either shop with a wandering eye or avoid shopping entirely—which can mean buying things you never actually wear, whether out of impulsive desire or frustration and inexperience. Keeping in mind what works for you, set specific goals for shopping: where and when you will shop, a budget, what you need. To set good goals, you're going to need to pay attention to why you set the goals you do, and what methods you adopt to achieve those goals. If you want a total wardrobe overhaul but you don't have $10,000 dollars handy, you'll want to prioritize—a good suit for the upwardly mobile, comfortable yet stylish clothes for the mom whose only time for herself may be getting dressed. Do whatever it takes to keep yourself aware of your goals: make lists if you're impulsive or absent minded, shop with budgeted cash if you're watching your wallet, shop with (carefully chosen!) acountabili-buddies if you're indecisive or you need help staying committed to your goals—or if shopping depresses you. Eventually these goals will become second nature, and your shopping will be more effective and a more positive experience.</span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><b>3. Consider clothes an investment, and don't settle for less than what you want.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> Don't settle for cheap imitations of what you want—get good fabrics, for example, that match your lifestyle. Don't buy silk if you don't go to the dry cleaners, unless you really think you can incorporate that habit. Don't buy a lot of high heels if you can't walk in them, unless you're really committed to learning (and anyone can! but not everyone wants to). But watch your intake of the polyesters, the acrylics, the plastics. They don't feel as good, they don't look as good, and they don't last as long as natural materials. You're only going to want to replace them next year—the opposite of an investment. You're giving yourself an errand. If you're buying something you'll wear all the time, like a pair of basic ballet flats, get a version that will last, like real leather with comfortable soles instead of something plastic. And buy for your life—if you love suede shoes but you live in Seattle, you really need to get the good rain shoes, <i>not </i></span>the suede kitten heels. If you can only get one, you will regret the suede, I promise. And don't buy something that doesn't look right, even if you like it and it fits your criteria. Every body is different, as is every piece of clothing. You need to find the chemistry between the two that produces the best look and fit for you.</p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">Be diligent in finding what you want (especailly difficult for the anti-shoppers, but truly worth it in the end). Don't spend your money, your effort, or your future on something that doesn't fit your needs. Keep in mind that leaving a shopping trip empty-handed because you didn't settle is a <b>success</b><span style="font-weight:normal">!</span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in">Also, be diligent in researching clothing—fabrics, styles, fits. Get to know your body-type (not just what you consider your flaws) and understand what styles suit you. It's true, the fashion industry is generally not kind to those not shaped like models. But no matter who you are, you really can find clothes that look actively good on you, and reflect the self-respect you deserve and the personality and values that define you. Not to be a walking advertisement, but TLC's What Not To Wear is really a great show for understanding shopping in general, and this rule in particular. Many of us can't afford most of the clothes on the show, but you'll pick up a lot of insights about clothing, style, shopping, and what <i>is</i><span style="font-style:normal"> worth spending money on.</span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><b>Extra tips, especially for those new to shopping:</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"></p><ul><li>Do not buy cheap shoes. Even if you don't regret it now, you will after four hours of wearing them, or after a lifetime of bad shoes when the bunions set in.<br></li><li>Try to avoid marathon shopping, whether you love it or hate it. Visit your favorite stores briefly on a regular basis, sticking to your budget and list. Shopping does not mean purchasing; but those visits will familiarize you with your options. After trying on similar boots at three different stores, you'll know which ones feel right.<br></li><li>Pay attention to sales. That doesn't mean running out and shopping every sale you hear about. It means finding out the sales of the stores you already shop. And don't neglect the clearance racks, or thrift stores and vintage stores. I have friends who look like a million bucks, even when they're casual, cuz they get lovely, good quality stuff affordably by exclusively shopping clearance racks.<br></li><li>Learn to sew, or go to the cleaners for alterations. This will help update older items that still have some life in them, or adjust new items that need a little help. If you're feling really adventurous, you can experiment with dyeing—anything can go black, and white can go anything. Research your options before you act. <br></li></ul><p></p> Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7313733402614832491.post-23531917776828911572008-01-22T12:55:00.000-05:002008-01-22T13:04:23.723-05:00Good morning to youI'm going to start by saying nothing, except that you should read this article: <a href="http://insidecatholic.com/Joomla/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=2339&Itemid=48">http://insidecatholic.com/Joomla/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=2339&Itemid=48</a>. It's people like these, the Frederic Bastiat types, that make sense of politics for me. God bless the French for at least giving us Bastiat, Edith Piaf, and fantastic cheese.Bethany Blanchard Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728419587737843341noreply@blogger.com1