Sticks and Snakes

The End of Summer

I think that summer is over. This revelation is a bit of a dissapointment, especially  because I had a lot of great plans for summer-related posts here at Sticks and Snakes. Too bad. I loved summer in Omaha, which was a huge surpise because I usually hate the heat. This year I ate up the high temperatures and I even got a tan. I felt like my body was soaking up every ounce of vitamin D that it lost in the last cruel winter, sweating out all of that snow-related depression. But now there is a crisp chill in the air and the leaves are turning colors. The last time I tried to sit outside in the sun and read I was bitten by all these tiny, weird bugs. The jig is up.

In Nebraska, you feel the seasons on y0ur skin instead of marking them on the calander, an existential shift that I am still adjusting to. In the Bay Area, it pretty much felt like early spring all the time. You could always count on wearing a scarf in San Francisco, but you could also keep the same wardrobe all year 'round. Out here, though, the seasons are real, which is actually a great (though sometimes mournful) way to mark time. Not ready for summer to be over? Too bad says the smell of the wind. Suck it up.

Like most things, I like the changing seasons because of the synapse-snapping memories that come alive in scents and sounds. This season--the very particular Midwestern version of this season--reminds me of the first time I arrived in Omaha, as an intern in the fall of 2005. So much has happened since then, and yet the  air smells the same. This is the time of year when I like buying coffee at gas stations early in the morning because that is what you do on cross-country road trips. Maybe I just really need to go on a road trip.

Happy Oma-versary

Twelve months, four seasons, fire and ice: I have been living in Omaha, Nebraska for almost exactly one year. I used to marvel in disbelief when I heard older people say things like, “Hasn’t this year just flown by?” Or, “It seems like Christmas was just yesterday!” Are you kidding me? Time doesn’t fly, it creeps, it slogs. When I was in school (for a rough total of twenty-one years), days and weeks and months passed slowly because they were always marked by deadlines. Seminary felt like a lifetime spent in limbo (have you seen Inception yet?), where I managed to grow into an old woman while maintaining my youthful appearance. There was nothing fast about it. But now that school is behind me and I no longer mark time by papers that are due or tests that are taken, I understand what all those people meant when they remarked on the quick passage of years. I really do feel like I just moved here.

 

This has been a big year for me: spiritually, psychically, emotionally, a lot has happened. Almost all of it has been remarkably positive. I was ordained a priest and celebrated a whole year of “firsts” (first Eucharist, baptism, wedding, funeral, etc.) in one of the healthiest, most vibrant communities of faith imaginable. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better parish with which to begin my ordained ministry. After years of living in a cinder-block cell, I finally had the opportunity to make a home for myself, something I have been fantasizing about and craving for a long time. I even learned how to cook. Of course there were the tough times, too, most notably a winter that tested my emotional resolve with face-smacking temperatures, and an uncomfortable growth spurt incurred by sad events. Like I said, it was a big year.

 

This year I learned how important place is to me, and after one cycle through the loop of bold Midwestern seasons, Nebraska remains a bit of an enigma. By “Nebraska” I mean the place writ large, not the people (whom I mostly find delightful) or my day-to-day life in Omaha (which is very pleasant), but the identity of this particular stretch of prairie, its location in the makeup of America’s psychic character. What is Nebraska? What does it mean? And why do I care?

I guess I care because I keep ending up here. As a person who believes in a God who calls, I feel strongly compelled to at least seek to understand why I have landed in Nebraska. What does this place have to teach me, I wonder? Why do I keep coming back?

 

While I sometimes feel at loose ends when it comes to my ability to connect to the ground beneath my feet, I do manage to feel strongly connected to the sky above. I have written a lot about my love of Nebraska weather, or, if not love exactly, appreciation. The weather here resonates with me. The sky feels significant in a very real way. This spring and summer has redeemed a little bit of last winter, mostly because the long stretches of cold and snow forced me to focus on survival rather than catharsis, and thunderstorms and bold sunsets are nothing if not cathartic.

 

Here’s a little secret about me. It’s not really a secret, just a thing that nobody else knows because nobody else is there to see it. When I am awoken by a thunderstorm at one or two or three o’clock in the morning, I get out of bed, make a cup of tea, open all the blinds in the apartment but leave the lights off, and watch the sky like it’s a blockbuster movie. Sometimes I sit on the back porch where the humidity makes my hands slick and the lightening gives me static goosebumbs. I don’t care that I lose sleep; I don’t care that I feel and look a little crazy. Something in my spirit is closely hewn to all that electricity and pressure and water, and I wouldn’t have known that had I never lived in Nebraska.

The End/Beginning of an Era

Some of you probably already know how much I love my car. It's a reliable fifteen year-old Ford and it has driven me halfway across the country five times, which is like driving all the way across the country two and one quarter times. We've seen a lot together and have been to some great places. In difficult pastoral situations, my car is my sanctuary. Sometimes when I am in the hospital, practically bursting blood vessels in my face in an effort to keep from crying, my mantra is, "I just need to get to the car...I just need to get to the car..." And then when I get inside and close the doors, I cry as much as I want. 

Well, the Washington tabs finally expired, so I bit the bullet and had the car registered here in Nebraska.

While it may sound silly, the transition has been a bit of an emotional ordeal for me. I liked the Washington plates. They were pretty, with a nice image of Mount Rainier emerging amid bold colors. I liked the old-school raised numbers, which made me imagine actual prisoners pounding on the plates with a level of skill instead of just a computer somewhere spitting them out. Most of all, I liked that they were from Washington, which is where I am from, and where my family still is. It was sad to pry those dented plates from their dirty spots on the front and back of my Ford.

  

But change happens, and now my car looks like it actually belongs here instead of shouting, "Hey! I'm just passing through." This makes sense, of course, because I'm not just passing through. I have a life for myself here in Nebraska and I guess it's about time that my car reflects that.

I am, however, thinking of framing one of the old Washington plates and giving it a prime spot on my office wall... 

Meandering

Today is beautiful in Omaha, Nebraska. It's a warm and sunny 85 degrees outside with a slight breeze and unusually low humidity: perfect. Today is also one of those rare Saturdays when I have nothing to do, an anomaly that I've been looking forward to all week. I woke up early this morning, checked the forecast, and knew that I had to get out of the house for a while to enjoy the beautiful early summer (or is it late spring? I can't tell) sunshine. 

 

At first, I thought of going to Lincoln (about an hour away) but realized that I wouldn't really know what to do o once I got there. For a long time I toyed with the idea of driving to Yankton, South Dakota, a town that appeals to me only because it is mentioned over and over again on the HBO series Deadwood. Finally, I decided to stick close to town and explore one of my favorite spots near Omaha, the Boyer Chute National Wildlife Refuge and the sleepy towns surrounding it. 

 

I did a lot of slow driving, a lot of walking, and some much needed sitting in the sun. I even took some pictures. All in all, a very relaxing morning. 

Welcome, Weekend.

It is a beautiful and busy weekend here in Omaha. Today launches the long-awaited Farmer's Market, and is also the first day of Berkshire-Hathaway's annual shareholder meeting. I started my Saturday with another great breakfast at Daily Grub and am spending the rest of the day working on tomorrow's Bible Study and enjoying the sunshine. Here's an update from the Simple Woman's Daybook...

photo/source 

Outside my window...the sun is shining and a nice breeze is blowing through the trees. Kids are outside playing and the sound of lawnmowers and laughter is filling the neighborhood. This almost makes up for the trauma of the winter. 

I am thinking...about how to be a priest in my community as well as in my parish. Any thoughts?

I am thankful for...beautiful weather, good music, and a whole day off. Amen. 

I am wearing...Jeans and a tee-shirt. No shoes. 

I am remembering...Bellingham, mostly because I spent last night working on a project and listening to Robert Blake. I had a borderline-stalker crush on him in college and his music always takes me back to how much I loved that town. 

I am going...to continue working on the aforementioned project (secrets!), the Bible study, and then go on a nice long walk.

I am reading...the WPA Guide to Nebraska, which I finally found a copy of! I love these 1930's guidebooks...they take you back in time but also reveal how little things have changed (the description of West Omaha in 1938 is hilarious because it is still so true). 

I am hoping...that people enjoy tomorrow's Bible study and aren't too scandalized by it. Tamar is a pretty juicy character. 

From the kitchen...a pile of dirty dishes and the remnants of last night's impromptu dinner: roasted root vegetables with goat cheese toast. The roasting pan is soaking in the sink. 

More Advice You Didn't Ask For...

Last year around this time I posted “Letters to a Young Seminarian” in an effort to consolidate and pass on some of the things I learned during my three years in seminary. Now, close to a year after graduation (has it been that long?!) and almost that long into my tenure as an associate rector, I thought it might be a good time to post some reflections on what I have learned about this peculiar and exciting new phase of ministry. I found that I didn’t know a whole lot about being an associate prior to beginning this position, so I hope that these brief thoughts are helpful to others about to embark on a similar journey.

 

Just like last time, these are my reflections on lessons I learned (mostly through trial and error…and error) on the ground and hadn’t been told about already. The stuff you’ve heard about maintaining a healthy spiritual life, strong relationships, and a good self-care routine are true and priceless words of wisdom, but you already know about them.

Of course, this is all based on the first year after ordination, so I reserve the right to change my mind in about fifty years…

New to the Neighborhood: Daily Grub

In his book The Great Good Place, Ray Oldenburg writes about the importance of the "third place." While most of us divide our time between home and work (places one and two, respectively), Oldenburg argues that third places help build communities, strengthen creative engagement, and engender a sense of belonging among their frequenters.  

The third place is very important to me. For whatever reason, I am closely tied to physical locations and I have difficulty feeling at "home" in a new city or community without being comfortable in all three of my places. While I love my job and have made a hobby out of turning my little apartment into a sanctuary-home, I am still waiting for that third place to really tie me to Omaha. In fact, I am surprised by how hard it has been to find coffee houses, bookstores, or restaurants that satisfy that mysterious spiritual X-factor within me. It's a constant search, and being new to the area, I'm not even sure where to look.  

photo/source 

As soon as I heard about Daily Grub, a farm-to-table restaurant and cafe that just opened in my neighborhood, I knew that it might be a long-awaited third place. Open for lunch during the week and brunch on weekends, Daily Grub boasts a wide variety of vegetarian fare and they give you a discount if you arrive via bicycle! Today was one of those rare Saturdays where I woke up early and didn't have a sermon to finish, so I headed down to 20th and Pierce to check out my new neighbor. 

I was immediately taken by the atmosphere of the little corner eatery. Lots of light, natural wood, and clean design made for an inviting place to spend the morning. The waffle iron was broken so I ordered one of the specials, which consisted of stewed beans, avocado, crema potatoes, blue corn tortillas, with ranchero sauce on the side. It was delicious. What's more, the people there were all incredibly nice. Both of the folks behind the counter were gracious and friendly and helped contribute to the relaxed vibe of the room, and I ended up having a nice conversation with the people seated next to me (side note: I also ran into my favorite Omaha blogger, Princess Lasertron, enjoying a nice Saturday brunch a few tables down. I even introduced myself to her...because I have no shame).

All in all, it was a great breakfast at a great restaurant. I wish Daily Grub all the best and I will continue coming back in hopes of building the third place vibe. 

(I was too shy to take pictures while I was there, but you can check out their facebook page for some great shots.)

Stop the presses...

...I made dinner last night! Using my oven! And chicken! 

I live alone and work pretty irregular hours. That, combined with my lack of culinary experience, means that most of my dinners involve "fixing/preparing" rather than actual "cooking." Salads, soups, the occasional Lean Cuisine...these make up my usual dinner routine. Not so last night!

Last week my friend Lainey made us this beautiful chicken in onions and cream (a la Julia Child!) when we got together for our regular Gossip Girl viewing. Her hospitality and poultry-bravery inspired me to return the favor and make a dinner to precede this week's teen drama. 

I saw this recipe for roasted chicken with tomatoes and olives in last month's issue of Real Simple, and knew that I wanted to try it.  It was sooo easy. The whole meal is made in one roasting pan and cooked all at the same time, which made clean up a snap. The chicken was moist, the cherry tomatoes were roasted all the way through but still managed to pop in your mouth, and the olives added a great savory-ness. Whole cloves of garlic made the apartment smell delicious and also made my breath stink for a full 24 hours (sorry co-workers!). Finally, lemon skin and fresh rosemary rounded out the flavor with some nice aroma. 

 

I will definitely make this dinner again. You can find the whole recipe here at Real Simple's website. 

 

Our Long Nebraskan Nightmare is Over

Today is the first day of SPRING! Never before in my life have I so ached for a change in season. My first winter as a Nebraskan was miserable, with blizzards, weeks upon weeks of seriously sub-zero temperatures, and precious few hours of daylight. Even when the snow melted last week, the sky remained a soupy gray for days and days. Now, we are finally starting to get a little sunlight, which does wonders for my mood (and the speed at which I am able to get out of bed in the morning). Even people who have lived in Omaha for their entire lives insist that this winter was the worst they have ever seen. I am so happy to kiss it goodbye. 

 

In the church world, I am longing for Easter just as intensely as I am for springtime. Epiphany was short this year and Lent (while remaining a fixed forty days) has felt loooong. I can't wait to say Alleluia in worship, sing more festive hymns, and stick the sackcloth chasuble in the back of the closet. 

Hopefully better weather and a post-Easter work schedule will allow for more blog posts!

Hello There

As my mom has been reminding me a lot lately, I have become a terrible blogger in the last month or so! I apologize for my recent absence from the internet--I have just been so busy in my "real life"! Work has been keeping me on my toes and my schedule shows no sign of slowing down. I am looking forward to taking a retreat with my fellow Nebraskan priests next week, when I will have a chance to catch my breath and enjoy some downtime with my colleagues. 

Since today is my day off, I thought I would take the opportunity to update Sticks and Snakes with an entry from the Simple Woman's Daybook:

Outside my window...this month looks a lot like the last one. We got a  dusting of snow this morning, which was just enough to cover the dirt that was collecting on the big piles and drifts from the last three blizzards. I am looking forward to spring, even though I think I am going to have to wait a while.

I am thinking...about all the creative projects that I have relegated to the back burner. I will never get to them unless I figure out how turn lazy down time into productive down time. 

I am thankful for...my beautiful apartment, with which I have an ever-deepening idolatrous relationship. 

I am wearing...jeans, a navy blue tee-shirt, and a grey hoodie. Day off!

I am remembering...what it felt like when I started the discernment process several years ago. I have been returning to those memories a lot lately and am really starting to feel called to help other young people in their discernment of vocation. I just need to figure out how...

I am going...to work in a few hours for a meeting with the Worship Committee, where we will continue planning for Lent. 

I am reading...a ton! Mostly fiction, mostly low-brow.

I am hoping...that a magical fairy will clean the rest of my apartment for me. 

From the kitchen...a version of the "micro wrap" that I loved so much at Western's Viking Union: a whole wheat tortilla, brown rice, whole black beans, and chunky salsa. A great lunch. 

Well, there's a brief look at my day! Keep checking back--I hope to update more soon!