A Road Less Travelled

It all started when Theresa said, “What Gabrielle really needs is a vacation.” How it evolved from there to the whole kidnapping plot is a little hard to trace; suffice it to say that Wednesday when Gabrielle climbed into our van she knew the two of us were going shopping for used books. She did not know that we were going to Springfield and spending the night there. I drove for the first short leg of the trip, just so she would feel more kidnapped. After we crossed the river we switched places because it’s a better division of labor–I can read a map and plot a course while she’s still trying to figure out where we are, and she can cut across three lanes of traffic to take the turn we almost missed while I’m still going, “Oh, um, AUGH!”. Overall I think Gabrielle comes out ahead in the comparison–my navigation took us in the wrong direction (though at least on the right road) several times, but we didn’t even have one car accident. After lunch in a little cafe in Springfield we managed to navigate both the parking garage and the hotel check-in without serious disaster. Technically there were no disasters at all, but I did feel a bit out of my depth. Theresa had made reservations at an old Hilton hotel with her hotel points. All I had was a confirmation number and the theory that they had reservations in my name (between Gabrielle and me we also had two backpacks, two overnight bags, fruit, and leftover food from lunch, but all of that was more of a hindrance than a help). With some confusion we somehow got our room key without ever giving them the confirmation number, or the credit card number that he seemed to think I should want to give him just in case we ordered room service. There are a lot of places to visit in Springfield, but our primary consideration was finding used book stores. Between my map and my prepared lists I found two within walking distance of the hotel. The first used book store had a clearance section outside: five books for a dollar. We settled in for some serious browsing. In between trying to remember which volumes of the encyclopedia of cooking I already owned, and pointing out interesting books to Gabrielle I endured a prolonged conversation on the length of my hair. Apparently, I ought to donate my hair to those less fortunate (they could probably make two wigs out my hair), and I should just make up my mind to pull out the scissors and cut it off because if I wait too long I’ll get headaches and cause permanent damage to my scalp. Thankfully, they had a fairly small number of good books in the clearance section and we soon escaped into the main part of the store. For the record, Prairie Archives is a true used book store. Some of their prices are a bit high, but they have decent prices on paperbacks, and they have ambiance. This is no slick, modern place of commercial advertising. Stacks of books and papers cover every workspace and the building is a maze of rooms leading to rooms until you think there’s no more–then find just one more nook. The whole place even smells like old books. For this I will forgive them the strange man outside who wanted me to cut off my hair, and I will say that I truly enjoyed the used book experience. We walked through the rain to the next used book store–this one had less ambiance, but there were still books so we didn’t mind much. After this we got to carry three bags a piece of books back to the hotel with raindrops falling all around us–yes, and on us too. We both enjoyed the rain (after Gabrielle decided to carry her sandals so they didn’t slide around so much) but we were the most bedraggled looking people coming back into the hotel. Most of the rest of the trip is hard to explain. It was just me and Gabrielle being ourselves doing crazy things. I could tell you that we went to go see a movie, but how would I explain sitting in the food court of the mall outside the movie theater, playing cards while we ate cold leftover food from our lunch. Or wandering Springfield the next morning, trying the find the building that had a glowing red light in the top the night before. I could tell about going through the Old State Capitol Building, but most of our time was spent admiring the old bookshelves and desks. We took the two lane road back to Peoria that afternoon–that is after I finally figured out which direction we needed to go… hm, well, it didn’t take that long. We quickly got on the right track which took us directly to the middle of nowhere where we stayed for quite a while. Eventually we ended up in Pekin and found the one road I knew, and made it to Peoria so I could drop off Gabrielle. It all came out amazingly well. The two of us made to Springfield and back, surviving the various perils of parking garages, hotels, maps and roads, and had a great time along the way. But I still have to wonder–what were they thinking letting the two of us out of the city by ourselves?

Comments(0)

So there I was, looking forward to going to a used bookstore with Raquel to celebrate life returning to normal with a book-buying spree. And suddenly, I find myself being kidnapped. My captor, Raquel, informed me that I would not be released until her demands were met. I was to accompany her to Springfield, spend a day not thinking about children or laundry or anything domestic. I was to journey to one or more of the used bookstores she had found in Springfield. At the used bookstores I was to spend a lot of money and have fun. I was then to spend the night in the Springfield Hilton and I was not to hurry back home the next day. Seeing as I am sitting at the computer at home you can assume that my captor’s demands were met. We had a lot of fun. We had been planning for a while to go to a used book store and celebrate so when I got into the van and Raquel handed me a ransom note complete with the letters cut out of a magazine I thought it was a joke. I’m still not sure they were serious. We managed to get turned around and heading in the wrong direction before we even left Peoria. We weren’t at all lost, you understand, we just couldn’t find how to get to the interstate through all the construction. When we finally got onto the interstate we were really giggly and I was driving so we wouldn’t die if Raquel had a coughing fit. Yes, I drove myself to Springfield while I was being kidnapped. We get to Springfield and it looks a lot like Peoria. I was convinced we had entered a space-time loop and we had driven away from Peoria only to return to it. There was no escape. I wouldn’t be allowed to leave my duties. I was going to be trapped in Peoria forever! Something resembling reason returned as the scenery started to change and look less like Peoria. We managed to get to downtown Springfield without any more troubles with the space-time continuum, but then we circled the block containing the hotel and the parking garage several times trying to find where we were supposed to enter. What is with cities and one-way streets? Every city I have tried to drive through has had this infatuation with one-way streets. Do they think that if they confuse you they will be able to drain your will and you won’t make trouble? Do they hope to break your spirit with their one-way streets and so you won’t feel oppressed by the towering buildings? Well, Springfield, it didn’t work! My spirit was not cowed! Well, not much. So, anyway we find our way into the parking garage, almost scrape the roof of the van on the ceiling and finally find a place to park. With heads held high we sally forth to find the used books stores. It was Raquel’s role to read the map and make sure we didn’t get lost. She did pretty well- we only went the wrong direction three maybe four times. It was my role to drive and to look as touristy as possible. I made sure I kept pointing and gawking. I enjoyed my role, but I completely forgot about it when we found the bookstore. It was called the Grand Prairie Archives and it was housed in an old building right across this square from the old state capital building. It was wicked awesome. We kept finding more rooms full of books. The store felt old and it smelled slightly musty and very much of books. Right up front were the old books that look like they would disintegrate if you touch them and off in the backwaters of the store were the paperbacks we were looking for. I spent most of the money I had set aside for books. I now have ten Louis L’Amour Sackett books. I am trying to have more than Raquel does, but I haven’t reached that goal. Hopefully, I will soon. Outside the store they had some tables set up with books on clearance. While we were picking through them a man rode up on his bike and started looking through books. He glanced over at us and immediately went into the by now to be expected declarations of surprise and wonder at how long Raquel’s hair is. Except after the regular conversation happened he kept talking about it. He seemed to be convinced that Raquel really didn’t want her hair, but she hadn’t worked up the guts to chop it off. He repeatedly said things like “You should donate that hair. Lotta wigs could be made out of it. There are lots of needy children would like that hair. You just haven’t decided to reach for the scissors, huh? I know some girls say their hair gives them headaches. Those headaches never go away. You should cut it off now before it’s too late. You should cut it before that happens or you’ll be sorry.” He would stop talking for a minute and we would keep looking through the books and then he would just start talking again. He kept it up for maybe ten minutes. I was surprised it was that important to him. He didn’t seem to understand that Raquel actually wanted long hair. He seemed to think it was just a bother to her and of course she didn’t want it. That day and the next day I kept saying, “Wow, you have long hair! You should cut it off now before you get headaches.” and she would glare at me. Hehehehe. After that bookstore we went to another bookstore a few blocks away. The books seemed expensive, but then we found how the sale books were marked and we were more kindly disposed to the proprietor. We ended up talking about kid books that full-grown adults read and enjoy with someone who was there. It was very different than the first store we went to, but it was still nice. When we left it was raining hard. We started walking back to the hotel then we turned around and started walking back to the hotel in the right direction. I was wearing sandals and after I had walked through a couple of puddles (God wouldn’t have put them there if we were supposed to go around!!) my sandals kept trying to slide off my feet. So I took them off and walked around downtown Springfield barefoot. We checked into the hotel looking like drowned rats and inept rats at that. There was a large group of people in the lobby and what with the noises and the echoes we had trouble hearing the man behind the desk. Combined with the fact that neither of us had done this before and we felt quite foolish. When we got to our room I immediately dumped my stuff on the floor and jumped on the bed. After we settled in we decided to go watch a movie. We got the van out of the parking garage and headed out to the mall. We then discovered that to get to the mall we actually needed to the other way on a one-way street and so we floundered around for a while until we found a road Raquel recognized from the map. We found the mall without much more trouble. We watched the Fantastic Four, which was fun, but not all that great, and then we went to a grocery store to buy water. After that we headed back to the hotel. Then we turned around and headed back to the hotel. Anything that happened after this point is not worth recording because it was just two very tired girls on vacation acting silly. So I won’t report it. I even won’t report what I promised Raquel I wouldn’t though I will note that if the price is right, well, who knows what could slip out of my mouth. I slept in the next morning. It was very exciting. And then I ate breakfast I didn’t have to cook. We both avoided the eggs and the oatmeal. After breakfast we wandered around looking at stuff. We went to the old state capital building and admired the furniture and the architecture. We didn’t manage to avoid the public school classes that were touring it that day, but, hey, nothing’s perfect. We went to the new state capitol building and tried to figure out if the mesh hung around the balcony could hold a person who jumped off. I sat on the bronze horse outside the hotel, walked in the fountain at the new state capitol building and stood on top of a marble something or other. We found a store called Studio on 6th that was located on 6th street. It was very cool. It was a store where all different kinds of artisans can sell their works. I bought a pottery mug that demanded I buy it the first time I looked at it. I picked it up and said, “Raquel, I think I’m going to buy this mugâ€? and she said, “I think you’re going to, too.â€? So I walked over to the counter with my mug and said, “I think I’m going to buy this.â€? I drank tea out of the mug this morning and it was most enjoyable. We wandered around for a while looking at stores and we stopped at a café and Raquel had some cocoa and I had bottle of juice I am ashamed to admit is called Naked Fruit. It was most delicious. After the café we decided it was about time to leave. We went back to the van and headed back home. Then we found the road we wanted on the map and we turned around and headed in the right direction. We took the back way home and it was most enjoyable. My cell phone rang and it was Theresa asking if we had died. I, of course, said we had. We chatted for a while and then I said I should probably get off the phone because I was driving and she went as spastic as I’ve ever heard her get. A child came up and asked her if she could say hello and Theresa said, “NO, SHE’S DRIVING!!â€? I said goodbye and hung up very shortly after that. We made it back home without getting lost again and life returned to normal. When I look back on the past two days I’m not sure what exactly we talked about. We talked almost constantly, but I’m not sure exactly what we talked about. Where we went and what we did sounds kinda boring when you just say it, but I had a lot of fun. Thank you very much to everyone who made my vacation possible. I very much enjoyed being kidnapped. I went on vacation! TeeHee!

Comments(1)

So I was thinking about (what else?) Babylon 5 except this time I was thinking about the Rangers. The Rangers are a group dedicated to the defense of weaker people and to uphold justice and mercy. Take the Rangers out of Middle Earth, put them out in space and you got the idea. The Ranger’s code that they live by is “We live for the One, we die for the One.” The One is the individual who is in charge of the Rangers at the time. The Rangers live to carry out the orders of the One to fulfill their mission of bringing peace and justice and they are not concerned for their own lives because they live and die for the One. I thought that was a fine picture of what the Christian life should look like. We live and die for God. We live to obey His will and make all of His glory shown throughout the world. We should be bringing justice and peace where ever we go and death should not scare us because it will only kill our bodies. It seems like in America we have a slight grip on the last part, but we have almost completely missed the first. We have this idea that you become a Christian and then when you die you go to Heaven where you won’t hurt anymore. We at least have an idea that dying doesn’t have to be a scary thing, though it often is. It’s the living for the One part that has us stumped. Do I honestly think that everything I do from the moment I get up in the morning to the moment I get up the next morning needs to be deliberately subject to the will of God? Well, uh, yeah. I mean, that’s what it says in the Bible, right. “Whether you eat, or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God”, right? What ever I do needs to be devoted to my Savior and Lord. Do we believe that? Seth and Crystal spent part of Saturday at Pagans in the Park. It’s a time when Peoria pagans get together and they have workshops about what they believe and how that applies to everyday life. They were talking about raising children, how to incorporate them into their worship without being disruptive, schooling children when you have different concerns than the public school system and other day to day issues about living in this world when you live differently from the world. Everywhere Seth and Crystal went they saw generosity and affection for each other. What they saw should be characteristic of Christians, but I don’t think it is. We are too caught up in our individual lives to truly care about each other. We have a small grasp on the idea that we are different, but it hasn’t translated into we need to work at living differently. We kinda get that we die for the One, but we have nary a clue that we need to live for the One first. This needs to change. God rules every aspect of my life whether I want Him to or not. He has direct input into my hopes, dreams, decisions, thoughts. To say that He doesn’t is hubris and foolish. But it’s one of those things where you can fight God and lose or you can bow, kiss the Son, set about living for the One and be blessed. How are we doing at this? Can the world tell we are Christians? Would a group of us look different from a group of heathens? Would we look attractive to the unbelievers? Would we look different from a group of pagans? Better or worse? We die for the One yes, but how are we doing at living for the One?

Comments(2)

This morning I was singing The Church’s One Foundation, contemplating how I really liked the words.

Though with a scornful wonder Men see her sore oppressed, By schisms rent asunder, By heresies distressed: I’d just gotten that far when I heard the sounds of some loud disagreement emanating from downstairs. I didn’t want to deal with it. I was thinking about the problems in the church. Theological problems, practical problems, attitude problems, problems that I don’t think I can fix. Sometimes the children’s disagreements are way too complicated for me to untangle; there’s not much I can do about bigger problems. So I was waiting for the next line– Yet saints their watch are keeping, Their cry goes up, “How long?” How long? How long before someone does fix the problem? How long can it go on like this before it gets even worse? Does it have to get worse before it gets better? Second question: How long before the argument downstairs exploded irreparably? I called the children upstairs, and gave them the spiel I give a dozen times a day. You may not shout at each other. You may not whine. Ask forgiveness if you need to, then talk to each other and solve the problem without being selfish or unkind. They solved their problem. There’s usually some kind of solution in the end, but I was surprised. It wasn’t the most rational, or even the calmest discussion I’ve ever heard, but it was quick, and in the end they agreed. I’ve heard a lot of possible root causes for the problems in the church. I don’t know which one is the worst, or closest to the root. But I know that the root is sin. If these children grow up learning how to deal with sin and the disagreements that arise out of it, that will be a big step toward solving the problem. I’m actually doing something about the problem. I should have known that already, but sometimes I need a reminder. Yet saints their watch are keeping, Their cry goes up, “How long?â€? And soon the night of weeping Shall be the morn of song!

Comments(2)

We’re moving in two weeks. James and Theresa have officially signed the paperwork (was there a point when they’d unofficially signed paperwork?), and we have two weeks in which to pack. In theory I suppose we could put it off a week or two past that, but James will be out of town, and then other stuff will be going on… Really, we’ve been waiting long enough that we just want to move. There are several reasons why moving into Peoria is a good thing for us. The one that keeps popping into the forefront of my mind is, “I’ll live closer to Gabrielle!” I might meander off to “James won’t have such a long commute to work–that’s nice.” Or “Hmm, we’ll live pretty close to the Vietnamese restaurant.” But it comes back to “And I’ll live closer to Gabrielle!” We could be spontaneous and go yarn shopping together without a twenty-minute drive. When she drives over just to chat because I’m depressed that I haven’t been out of the house in weeks it will be easier not to feel guilty about the time and gasoline that she’s using. Oh yes, and those other people who happen to live in the Ben-Ezra household will be closer too. But the point really is that I’ll live closer to Gabrielle, isn’t it? This is totally new for me. Even leaving aside the fact that Marquette Heights is the closest I’ve ever come to living in the city before, this is new. The idea of living in community has been there for a while, but the closer we come the more I realize that I don’t really know how this is going to work. I know that it will be easier to plan the times we get together, and they could happen more often. I know that it will be easier to be there for each other when life gets rough. I don’t really know what that looks like in everyday life. But I can’t wait to find out.

Comments(7)

Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Most of you will not care one bit about what I am about to say! I have an announcement to make. In a fit of absolute idealist madness Crystal decided to put Justice in cloth diapers. At this announcement I felt the foundations of my world start to spin. No, my heart cried, Anything but that. But wait, there’s more! In a further fit of madness she decided to put Noah in the cloth diapers we discovered fit him better than they fit Justice. That is correct, folks. We now have two, two, two, children in cloth diapers. Go ahead, ask me how many cloth diapers I have changed. Correct!! The very first cloth diaper I ever changed was last night when Justice screamed through the whole thing, almost wiggled his way off the changing table and then Crystal had to redo it because we were both pretty sure his bottome shouldn’t look four times its usual size. I just now put the very first diaper on Noah and I have already started to pray that I did a good enough job. If I didn’t the results could be catastrophic. Be afraid, be very afraid. I have yet to stick a child with the pins, but I believe that to be merely a matter of time. This brings to mind a quote from the book Dune. ‘You who know what we suffer here do not forget us in your prayers.’

Comments(3)

“If you can’t agree about it, then nobody gets to be captured!”

Comments(0)

esprit de l’escalier (es-PREE duh les-kal-YAY) A witty remark that occurs to you too late; literally ’staircase wit’

Comments(4)

I have always had a great deal of respect for my mother. I have had a great deal of respect for mothers in general. It is something I was raised with; this idea that mothers are just that cool. But it is only recently that I have come to understand why mothers command such respect. Since we the S. Ben-Ezras have declared our house to be operating in a state of emergency I have shouldered more of the day-to-day running of the household as Crystal is busy with other stuff. I have come to appreciate exactly how difficult it is. First, from the moment you wake up anywhere from four to seven people could want something from you. They all want something from you and they all want it at the same time. One wants you to find his pants and another wants you to get him out of his bed and take him downstairs. They all have questions for you and they all want breakfast. Sometimes the other adults will add their requests or you will need to hold the baby while the other adults deal with another child. By an hour after you get up you feel as though you have answered a million questions and fed an army. Second, you will never be allowed to have both hands at any given time. You will either be holding the baby or the toddler or you will be doing four things at once each requiring a hand. Each task then takes twice as long because they are only allotted half a hand each. If you are holding a child at the moment the task will take three times as long because you have been taught it is a bad thing to spill coffee/tea/water/soup/eggs/dish water on the child and it is doubly bad to catch them on fire. Some jobs necessitate two hands and so they are accomplished as quickly as possible while someone screams in the background. It is most distracting. Third, the children will not understand or hear you when it is most important that they do. When you are holding the baby and the toddler is straying too close to the children on the swings said children will not understand what you mean when you, panicstricken, yell, “STOP!!!!!!!” They just won’t get it. They will instead assume you are telling them to stop something you hadn’t noticed they were doing that they probably shouldn’t have been. You know you can’t get there in time to stop the toddler from being struck down by the swings and you only have one hand to start with because you are holding the baby so you make a split second decision to stand on the porch yelling. When you call the child who didn’t stop swinging up on the porch to take him to task you find out he was really trying to obey, but he didn’t understand what you wanted him to stop. Next, the child who will fight you about anything because his will has not yet been tamed will do it when you are least able to impose your will on him. For instance, when you are trying to take him away from the aforementioned swings after the baby woke up and is no longer in the sling, but just being held in your arms. So you have a baby who doesn’t like how you’re holding him and a toddler who is refusing to obey. Under normal circumstances you would have picked him up and taken him to a disciplinarian, but you only have one arm. Under abnormal circumstances you would oick him up anyway, but you are afraid that if you bend down to pick him up the baby’s head will flop in a way nature never intended it to and if you stop to adjust your grip on the baby the toddler will get away from you. So you are pulling him by his hand always remembering what people say about how easy it is to dislocate a child’s arm, but still wanting to insist that he obey you. I know now that this is the sort of morning my mother had all the time. I have no idea how she did it and still stayed as close to sanity as she did. Now, I’m not going to say she was completely sane, because anyone who would choose this life has to be insane. I mean, look at me. But even though most mothers are insane I have a great deal of respect for them. Homes equipped with homemakers very rarely fall down for no good reason and children equipped with mothers are very rarely maimed in swing accidents. There’s a lot to be said for that.

Comments(2)

I used to love treasure hunts. Following clues–surely Sherlock Holmes (second only to Spock in my eight year old mind) would approve. The thrill of chase. The clever deductions–”Aha, I deduce that the kitchen table is…in the kitchen!”. The mad race to find the next clue (I don’t know where we thought it would go if we didn’t get there in time). I always loved treasure hunts, but it seems most of my memories are of making treasure hunts for someone else. Painstakingly cutting the paper to the proper size for the clues. Finding clever places to hide them…or clever ways to hide them. (Yet another reason that Post-It notes are cool!) So yesterday as I wandered the aisles of Dollar General, it suddenly seemed the obvious time for a treasure hunt. The children are not so much sick as contagious, trapped in the house most of the time, and cranky. I’m just starting to recover, but so tired of being cooped up that wandering around in Dollar General seemed to be a grand outing, and tending toward cranky myself. I found the Jackie Chan stickers that I’d almost bought for the children more than once–even on clearance I couldn’t quite bring myself to spend the money on a whim. But now it was an occasion, and the Jackie Chan stickers were a must! I debated over a few cheap plastic toys, but managed to avoid them. Instead I found a set of three little jigsaw puzzles also on clearance. Most of the books on clearance were just dumb. In comparison the book I picked out was quite amusing; in reality it was only passable, but at least it didn’t leave out chunks of the story in order to make the rhymes fit. In a wild crazy moment I added a word search book which wasn’t even on clearance. Before I even came in the door at home the alarm was sounded, “Aunt Raquel walked to Dollar General! She has a Dollar General bag!”. They had their suspicions, but I told them that it was my bag and ensconced it in my room long enough to hide the suspicious items before I let the children ooh and aah over my new candles (yes, the candles were also on clearance). I made up all the clues on somewhat less than painstakingly cut pieces of index card and waited for the opportune moment. Yesterday passed in a relative quiet, with no great explosions or upheavals. Today after lunch however, the children seemed a bit at loose ends. I announced (to their confusion) that they were all to go into the girls room with the door closed and stay there until further notice. Snatching up my clues I hid them quickly, and let the children loose to race about between Little Red’s tank, the bathtub faucet, the blender, and other such clever hiding places, until finally they pulled the treasure from the oven. Aside from a few stragglers who didn’t always keep up with the herd, and coughing fit or two that interrupted the hunt, it was just the way I remembered it. No, I take that back. It was even more fun than I remembered.

Comments(1)