Happy New Year!

We have really enjoyed reuniting with old friends this year. Between spending Thanksgiving and Christmas in Utah and Wyoming we almost felt like we never moved. To all of those friends we missed or have lost contact with -- Keep in Touch!! Combining old friends and New Years, how could one not quote Burns' wonderful poem? (for modern English click here) (btw, for those David O. McKay fans out there (mom), McKay wrote an essay on Burns, who was his favorite poet) So come on by Grand Junction, we'll have a few pints and talk a gude-willie-waught.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne ?

CHORUS
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup! And surely I’ll be mine!

And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes, and pou’d the gowans fine;

But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit, sin’ auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn, frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar’d sin’ auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere! And gies a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll tak a right gude-willie-waught, for auld lang syne.

My Christmas

Justin wanted me to post about our Christmas, but I want a post all about MY Christmas. Besides, Justin just got a bunch of books and Isaac got some new toys he probably won't play with. I'm a pretty spoiled Momma! Justin splurged and bought me an Electra Cruiser Bicycle complete with tassels and a bell. Actually, it's my birthday and Christmas (my birthday was in July during the bar exam).
Justin went to great lengths to hide it from me. He had it delivered to his office then took off the chain guard, wrapped it, and put it under the tree. He told me that it was autographed sports memorabilia or a clay pigeon thrower. He really had me stumped. Today was the first day I could take it for a spin. Despite the fact there is snow on the ground and it's 24 degrees I still loved my ride around the neighborhood.

Merry Merry

MERRY CHRISTMAS from IJ (and Grandpa McDowell's deer) !!!

Pax Vobis

A few years ago I stumbled upon the Pope's Christmas message. Ever since, I have waited for it with anticipation. I am not Catholic, nor spiritual, but I like what he has to say. Here is a section of his message:

"Man is so preoccupied with himself, he has such urgent need of all the space and all the time for his own things, that nothing remains for others, for his neighbor, for the poor, for God...Do we have time for our neighbor who is in need of a word from us, from me, or in need of my affection? For the sufferer who is in need of help? For the fugitive or the refugee who is seeking asylum? Do we have time and space for God?"

We truly wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Tagged

So we have been tagged, and tagged again. So here are a few things you probably did not know about each member of our little family.

Diana loves Justin (yes, believe it), is scared of stickers, craves cookie dough, really wants a four door truck, must sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door (while refusing to shut off the light, which is always next to the door), uses inordinate amounts of Kleenex and lotion, employs a myriad of cute phrases (known collectively as Diana-speak) such as: I dunno, I'm the boss, RARRR, Amblience (for ambulance), Ruuude, and Possibly (in response to any and all of my questions).

IJ loves gruyere cheese, can throw a ball really far, wants to claw other babies on the face, laughs at loud noises, wishes that mom would not make him wear a diaper, thinks being naughty is funny, is obsessed with a picture of Nora Wiedrich (pronounced Why-drick) that is on our fridge, and loves to push my books off of the shelves.

Justin hates mayo (who wants a sandwich with soggy bread? -- that's crazy), thinks that Sherri Dew is absolutely loony (no doubt about it), craves yerba mate, wants a new fuel sender unit for a '93 jaguar, wishes that Grand Junction had a decent used book store, would like to go back to school for a PhD in the classics, spends his lunch hour at the library across the street from the office.

That is it! Our tag related obligations are now fulfilled, henceforth and forever more. Consider yourselves tagged.

Robert Frost

In addition to showing off my cute family, I also wanted this blog to be a place to talk about the books I read and the things that move me. The problem is that Diana has dubbed most of my ideas as either "boring" "radical" or "inappropriate" for our blogger audience. So instead of creating a new blog under a radical pseudonym, I will just post the least offensive, and most uplifting, items of general interest that cross my path.

Today's installment is poem by Robert Frost; and if it tickles your fancy, for further reading I would suggest Crossing to Safety by Stegner.

To Time it never seems that he is brave
To set himself against the peaks of snow
To lay them level with the running wave,
Nor is he overjoyed when they lie low,
But only grave, contemplative and grave.

What now is inland shall be ocean isle,
Then eddies playing round a sunken reef
Like the curl at the corner of a smile;
And I could share Time's lack of joy or grief
At such a planetary change of style.

I could give all to Time except - except
What I myself have held. But why declare
The things forbidden that while the Customs slept
I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There,
And what I would not part with I have kept.

Walking Man