A Plethora of Posts (or when it snows it blizzards!)

Ski Equipment c. 1970's

     Well Gentle Reader, steady your heart as you read a second post from the ModSub in as many days. What can be said except that the inordinate amount of snow lends itself to either hibernation or creative essays. Witness the latter in this humble offering. The children's skis belonged to my brother and me. My mom and dad took us to the Ski Chalet to acquire proper ski equipment. We were fans of "Ski East", frequenting the icy slopes of Ski Liberty and Blue Knob and Seven Springs. Most of my memories from these adventures center around the ski lifts themselves from the rope lift to the button seat lift to the granddaddy of lifts-- the chair lift. Actually, the precursor to any power driven lift was my dad pulling me up the bunny hill by the end of my ski poles.

      I was instructed to grip the rope lift (where were my poles?), which, as soon as I dutifully grabbed on, I was jerked up the hill with quite sore rope-burned palms. My small sense of payback was when, upon reaching my destination, I kept a hold of the rope until much yelling from others to "let go" caused me to let go. One can imagine the rubber band twanging effect that the other poor saps felt in my wake.

      The button seat lift was even more challenging. Somehow, after straddling the circular "seat" suspended from a rope, I was moved to a higher potential energy point. However, it was a fine balance to counter the pull of the seat and not to actually sit down and be dragged in the snow in utter embarrassment.

       One day, I miraculously found myself ready for the two person chairlift. On my maiden run, I found myself next to my first instructor, my dad. Instructed to "look behind me and have my hand ready to grab the side of the chair", I was startled at the speed at which the chair approached and scooped us up in one fell swoop. Wow! Such exhilaration; such a sense of accomplishment! The bar came down and I was able to rest my booted skis on it and to revel in the safety so far above the skiing ants below. We approached a giant turning horizontal flywheel and my dad lifted the bar. What the.... My dad got up and went down the small debarkation hill. "Very nice," I thought. More yelling; really, why is skiing so vocal? Still in the chair myself and rounded the flywheel to the return side, I had neglected the crucial step of getting out at the top. After the ski lift operator, who was busy earning his minimum wage with me, ground the cable to a halt and put the works in reverse, I was able once again with extreme trepidation to disembark with a modicum of dignity.

Faithfully recounted,

The ModSub

Blizzard Redux!

Winter Oil Painting by my mother, RCK

     Well, gentle reader, it has been a season of frozen posts from the ModSub; but, not to fear, there is a thaw occurring even with the onset of a historic blizzard. We haven't seen snow fall like this since 2010 (Original Blizzard Post  ) and 1978. I do have good memories of rolling large snow boulders with my brothers in the front yard of my home in the late 70's. We used up every available inch of snow to construct Fort Mandan, much to my dad's dismay since the sheer weight was grass killing. The snow battle that ensued with the neighbor's kids was, as my son would put it, epic. The best part of this recollection was the sheer solitude near the oak in the backyard with only the sound of the whipping wind to comfort my pioneer mindset. I read a lot of Laura Ingalls Wilder back then; but didn't everyone? As I was saying, the best, best part was returning inside to the centrally heated home to have hot chocolate and marshmallows with my mom inquiring as to my brothers' whereabouts. My response was invariably, "Dunno" or "Outside". There is something to be said for a childhood before the virtuality and pervasiveness of screens.

The ModSub

Not So Required Reading

Kind Reader:

How long has it been since the ModSub posted anything here? Well, fear no more! Celia (thanks, C!) had a great idea to go book clubbing from the comfort of our own desk/sofa/metro seat. This combines many of my favorite pursuits: reading, photography, blogging, noshing, and cooking (not-so-much), and anything to do with Julia!

So borrow, buy, download this book and let's talk amongst ourselves! We can comment below and let our thoughts be known :)...

Faithfully,
The ModSub

New and Old

It's Advent II and the Modern Suburbanite has turned philosophical as she is sometimes wont to do. We lit the second candle of our Advent wreath calling to mind our tradition. A new skinny frosted tree brings a little glamour into the scene. Now I don't think the birth of the Christ child was to usher in bling and tinsel. But maybe the neo-tree can remind me of Jeremiah saying that the Lord is doing a new thing. Let it be so in our hearts and world.

Blessings,

The ModSub

PPPST! October 2014

Welcome Intrepid Parents!
Happy Anniversary to us; it's been a year of learning and breathing together. What a blessing and an honor...

We met once again and started with a centering breath exercise taken from p. 107 of A Wing and a Prayer written by The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church (and marine biologist/pilot). Presiding Bishop background The chapter is entitled, "A New Thing".

"Try this exercise. Close your eyes. Relax your body. Ease into your chair. As you breathe in, hear God saying to you, 'I love you.' As you let your breath go, focus on letting go with it something that binds you--an old hurt, a sin that's hard to forget, your frustration with your own or someone else's imperfection. As Jeremiah said, God has already forgotten it. God remembers only the promise. Even in the midst of our current global anxiety, God is doing a new thing."

What a comfort. God is doing a new thing. How does that relate to raising our children? Does that letting go allow for a moment of grace where we can "come to our senses" (a la the bereft prodigal son)? Katharine speaks of a "reckless love"-- a love that "doesn't count or reckon the cost". What does that mean for our children, our families, our communities? What does that mean for ourselves? Yikes! Big questions...

In the penultimate paragraph she writes, "That abundant life is ours for the asking, and the letting go. It's as close as our breath. The act of breathing is itself a small dying and invitation to new life. Letting go of our breath is a radical act of trust. It's a dying, but a dying for, so that we have room for a new breath."

Let us carry that around with us and try it on for size...

Peace,
The ModSub

11/9 is the Annual Meeting.
Date and time for our group TBD.

Dahlia etudes

Late summer bloomers, geometric and full of impact. Gotta go with the showy, splashy dahlia. Sure to bring on a smile...

PPPST! September 2014

Welcome back, Intrepid Parent to a new year of our small group for the Parents of Young Children at St. Patrick's. New year, new service times, new digs... We are now meeting on the second Sunday of the month in the Day School Library, which we have found to be light-filled and full of comfortable armchairs. Continental breakfast served after 9am service in the Great Hall; our group convenes at 10:10am-10:50am.

A quick review of ground rules for the health and growth of our small band:
    Confidentiality expected and respected-- these are closed door sessions to promote sharing.
    Let's be quick to listen and slow to speak-- everyone should feel like there are opportunities to share what's on their hearts.
    We refrain from unsolicited advice giving. Beginning somewhere
    We leave our judging attitudes and negativity at the door. We bring our open hearts and minds to share.

This session we read aloud from Brian D. McLaren's We Make the Road by Walking, a recommended book by The Right Rev. Mariann Budde. In Chapter 2 this summer, I made a most astonishing discovery that in the Garden of Eden, there were, not one, but two special named trees! Where have I been? Not only that, but there are two creation accounts in Genesis... live and learn, I suppose. Back to the trees-- yes, The Tree of Life and The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The author makes the point that the former is life-giving and constructive; the latter is, through a judgmental path which humans are prone to take, quite destructive. I wonder what that means for us as parents and caretakers?

If the Spirit leads, please join us on the second Sunday in October (10/12) at 10:10am in the Day School Library. You can contact The Rev. Loren Lasch ( loren@stpatrickschurchdc.org ) for more information.

Peace and Blessings!
The Mod Sub