Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
A Book Club Event and Book Review: Run With Me
Hey there fine citizen! This past Thursday evening our famous little Oklahoma book club, known far and wide as Dinner Club With a Reading Problem, enjoyed an especially wonderful discussion dinner. Our selection this go-round was Run With Me: An Accidental Runner and the Power of Poo, by Jennifer Luitwieler. Have you read it? Also, do you read Jen’s blog? It is a refreshing balance of philosophy, inspiration, culture, and family. Check her out at jenniferluitwieler.com
This book was recommended to us by Margi, author of that cool, smart blog called The M Half. Y’all know her as the chick who tried to get me killed in the Pine Forest. Margi reviewed Jen’s luscious little piece of non-fiction way back in March of last year, and you can read that right here.
Okay. Thursday night’s event was much more than another pot-luck-and-gab session. We were honored to welcome the author herself into the cramped but cozy living room here at the farm! We circled around her with plates made heavy from comfort foods and desserts, and of course there was plenty of sweet tea and butter. We had a blast and also managed to mostly behave ourselves.
Jen indulged us with answers to our questions about her faith, her journey through different churches and role as middle child/ Pastor’s daughter, running as a sport, and depression. Depression, so you know, is an important theme in her book, and our little group learned a lot that night. We learned more about this illness and about each other. Some of us shared about personal struggles with depression, and others of us admitted to needing to know how to help loved ones who suffer from it.
We shared varying perspectives on life and family, family patterns, marriage, the hurt and healing of church and coming of age, and so much more. Six hours of fantastic socializing flew by in a minute, it seemed, and we all agreed that it was the best book club event to date. (We actually say that every single time we meet, but truly, it’s gonna be difficult to top an author visiting us in the flesh!)
My guess is that if we asked each of the ten women who attended Thursday night, “What was the discussion about?” We would hear ten different answers. Because while we probably spent most of our time exploring Depression and its attendant* complications, every varying slice of conversation was meaningful to different women in different ways. For example, I was highly motivated by Jen’s chapter on Grace and some of the spiritual observations she made in her book and in our visit. Another couple of our members seemed to be most interested in hearing more about running (me too, by the way… Jen just ran 18 miles on Saturday and is training for another half marathon!). Still more book-clubbers were thirsty for Jen’s’ guidance in writing and publishing original work. Had we been successful in convincing our guest to stay overnight, we would surely have kept her awake until dawn with the brain-picking. Small wonder, then, that she opted to drive home at night.
Whatever our specific takeaways, though, one strong theme runs all throughout. And it is actually what Jen uses to end her book, the encouragement to find your thing, whatever it is, and do it well.
I do hope you find or download a copy of this book and read Run With Me. It is a comfortable, smart, witty, conversational offering of one woman’s imperfect and nourishing life experiences and how she has profited in surprising ways by lacing up and hitting the pavement.
You stand to gain so much by reading this book. But the fact remains that we are the lucky ones who got to chat her up and share roasted chicken, cheesy grits, and coconut cake. She shared even more generously in our suppertime conversation. So…Just for fun, how about a list of special facts we learned about this lovely woman during our hours together? This was such fun!
- She also has a book club. And she belongs to various writers groups and leads a weekly writers’ discussion on Twitter. All of this, on top of being active in her church and running marathons and mothering three children and homeschooling two of them, AND she perfectly put together and polished. I am in awe.
- She wrote this book in less than a year, originally as a series of blog posts, and revised it over and over.
- Her husband still hasn’t read it. tsk-tsk… But we all surmised he was there for most of her stories. He knows what happens, right?
- All of her family’s pets are rescues.
- Jen has done several telephone and Skype interviews, but Thursday night at the Lazy W was her first in-person appearance!
- She places high value on small but daily doses of solitude.
- Her unique take on modern Christianity is fascinating. Her remark, “We go to a really weird little church,” garnered lots of belly laughs. Then, her descriptions of its uniqueness and community ministries brought smiles to all ten of our faces.
- She just finished her first novel, YAY JEN!!! She wrote Seven Days in May, a volume of historical fiction set right here in Oklahoma, as a participant in NaNoWriMo. This means that she fleshed it out in one month, folks. She is currently shopping agents for its publication and promised us a return visit after its release. We are so excited!!
- Jen is actually a fellow fan of Aimee Bender, author of our group’s much-debated read of 2010 The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (my review here), a fact which when revealed sent peals of laughter through the high-carb room. I do not mind admitting a feeling of vindication. Aaaannnddd… Now I’m craving lemon cake again. As I sit here writing, I may settle for a slice of leftover coconut-lime cake!
- Her running playlist is so rad, ranging from Eminem (yep) to Mumford and Sons (double yep). And I suspect that a few of our ladies will be dipping their polished toes into Couch-to-5K after hearing from her.
- Jen Luitwieler is one of those women who, though fascinating on paper and perfectly lovely in photos, makes an even more profound impact in person. She is glowy in every sense of that expression: She has the sheen of good health, certainly, but she also emits a lot of love and peace. Wisdom beyond her forty-one years. I am so happy to have made her acquaintance, and I know that all of Dinner Club With a Reading Problem feels the same way.
“Run to Everything You Were Ever Meant to Be.”
~Jennifer Luitwieler
xoxoxoxo
*Jen’s artful use of this word in this way has me hooked. I must credit her influence.
Proverbs 31: Guest Post by Amber, Happiest Color of Crazy
This morning I would like to introduce you to another lovely and generous guest poster, Amber. She is a stay-at-home Mommy to three beautiful and precocious little girls,and in a thousand ways she radiates the spirit of a young, traditional Proverbs 31 woman.
I asked her to contribute because while so many women spend precious energy complaining about the drudgery of domestic life, she celebrates every detail and magnifies God in fun, believable ways. I can feel her joy through her Facebook posts and original poetry, which is what she chose to share with us today…
Enjoy…
romantic visions of all life could be.
I wanted to fall in love, be swept off my feet
have a beautiful home and a loving family.
hearing the prayers my fears won’t let me speak.
He knows just how to fill my lack
becoming my strong knowing my weak.
Things aren’t always what they might seem.
I do have love, a home and three kids
but life is all but serene….
trying to do all that’s needing done.
The kids are loud making a mess
keeping us on the run…
Life’s demands pile up like the dishes.
No time for dates, or leisurely mornings.
An endless list of empty wishes…
and I must humbly repent.
Losing my joy by forgetting my thanks
is the surest road to discontent.
and seek Him first in ALL things.
Looking around for His gifts of grace
in the simplest moments that each day brings.
My God supplies my every need.
I have everything I never knew I wanted
and my heart is full indeed!
Thank you, Amber! Thanks for this poetry, and thanks for sharing on Facebook the delicious minutiae of daily life with your young family. You make me homesick for those days and grateful for my memories more than you can imagine. When people tell you it goes by quickly, they are speaking the truth. Soak up this happy color of crazy. May all of your dreams come true, if even in wildly unexpected ways!
Dad’s Double Nickel
Last week my dear ol’ Dad passed a milestone. Not a kidney stone, thankfully. A milestone. He had a birthday. So my parents, my youngest brother Philip, our nephew (who is recently driving, FAINT!) and his best friend Matthew came to the farm to celebrate Dad’s double nickel birthday! Our other nephew Koston, from my husband’s side of the family, had been spending a few days at the farm (I need to tell you all about that soon) and he actually helped me prepare the family meal!
We sat down to the table and shared a giant lasagna with all the trimmings and laughed and laughed and laughed! Then almost immediately after dinner Dad sliced his birthday cake, a butter pecan layer cake with browned-butter cream cheese frosting.
We sang to him and asked if he feels any older. He answered in the affirmative. We spent what little weeknight time we had left watching hilarious videos and laughing some more. Being with my family and laughing is on my sparkly list of favorite things to do. Seriously, it feels so good. And I love to see my parents happy and worry-free for a few minutes. They deserve so much more of that.
The older I get the more I am keenly aware of what a gift it is to have both of my parents alive and in my life, loving me and spending time with me. Handsome’s parents are very much a part of our life, too, and we are so grateful for this. Looking around at our friends, I see more and more people who have lost one or both of their parents by now, so these family events are golden to me. Big holiday occasions are also fabulous, but my soul is nourished by regular doses of easy get-togethers and homemade food.
To finish his birthday celebration, I would like to tell you a little bit about my Dad, about why I wish you could have a Dad like mine…
He played with us all the time growing up, and he helped entertain my friends when I had birthday parties. In fact, as my friends got to be of the “crush having” age, lots of them had crushes on my Dad. This is actually rude, ladies, and weird, but it is nice to have a Dad everyone likes.
My Dad has always fostered creativity, just by being creative himself You should see him light up over an invention idea, or a new lamp or furniture design! And to help with his creative streak, Dad can operate any machine you give him. A few Christmases ago he and Mom gave me the serger machine from Village Art, our family’s now retired lamp company. Dad vainly tried teaching me how to thread it and operate it, but the truth is I would much rather him just come out and do it for me so we can talk. Not that we would talk. Because of the whistling.
Five Senses Inventory, Keeping Happy Vigil
What a week! Whew. From a family funeral last weekend to celebrating both of our dads’ birthdays, some work travel for Handsome, and a few days of fun with our nephew for me, we have stayed busy and wrung out emotionally. I have lots of photos and stories to share, and happily Proverbs 31 themes are warming up my heart at a nice, healthy boil. But yesterday one of our fuzzy babies showed up with a cut leg, and everything came to a standstill. He’s fine, already healing nicely, but it definitely got my attention and sort of wiped my calendar clean for most of the day.
What follows is a Five Senses Inventory of the hours I spent with the Bachelors yesterday, keeping our tenderhearted patient company. I sat on the ground near the front field and ate a bizarre lunch of saltine crackers and Coke. Real Coke, not Diet. I know, I was shocked too.
Think: I am constantly, constantly thinking of my beautiful daughters. I think of them as babies, as toddlers, as children, and as young women. I think of what they might be doing elsewhere as I sit here. I think of their futures and the untold possibilities there.
Feel: Romantic, hopeful, grateful for our families, confident in the potential for all kinds of healing, fascinated by the political climate right now, and overall inspired. I feel inspired to pick up broken pieces of things and make new, even more beautiful things. I feel inspired to control my body in new ways because now I know I can. Now I know that very few physical things are left to chance. I feel close to my animals but not in an owner-owned kind of way. Today they look at me deeply.
I hope you take a few minutes to inventory your world. Notice what’s going on around you and inside you. Imagine amazing things for yourself and your loved ones, dwell on the best things, count your blessings. I’ll be checking in again soon for some excellent family stories and more of Proverbs 31.
Happy Weekend Friends!
xoxoxoxo
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