boston commoner.

welcome home

The Yankees have Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” to play when they win a home game. Boston has a song about dirty water. Somehow it’s fitting; somehow, we wouldn’t–couldn’t–have it any other way.

They did it. They DID IT!

It was a great commute today. I imagine everyone was just a little nicer, a little less pushy on the crowded city streets; people looked you in the eye and nodded ‘good morning’ to you on the sidewalk; even the sun seemed to shine a little brighter this morning, pushing out the recent gloom and streaming over the green side of Fenway Park–and the Sox’ logo–facing the turnpike.

This doesn’t happen everyday. Not in Boston, and not even in the history of baseball. To come back after a 3-game losing streak in the American League Championship Series, not just to WIN that series, but to go on and SWEEP the World Series and OWN the team with the best overall-wins record in the regular season that year? AND, for that winning team to be the Red Sox, who haven’t won a World Series since 1918? When people say they’ve been waiting their whole lives for this, most of them actually mean it. I don’t even know what to say about it, accept that, as one radio announcer pointed out, it’s indeed a “great day to be alive and to live in the city of Boston.”

I know, it’s just a game. And there are more important things. But these are simple joys we can be thankful for… So, Yankees? Cardinals? Deepest thanks from the heart of Boston!

‘Cause I “love that dirty water… Boston, you’re my home.”

Well, I managed to snag a few pictures of my new apartment this weekend. They’re sub-quality, admittedly, but at least you can get an idea of where I’m at ;o) Now, if I can only entice a few of you to visit…

My living room before moving in: My living room after:

My little kitchen before moving in: My kitchen after:

I visited the International Baptist Church of Boston for the first time back in March of this year. It was a dry, fridgid day in the city; what should normally have been a short, pleasant walk from the subway station to the old brick school building in which the church held its Sunday worship service seemed more like a long and painful death in an arctic wind-tunnel. I walked in the wrong direction that Sunday. Twice. So the walk took a little longer than it ought have, anyway. By the time I made it in, I was once again cursing skirts and hoes and heels and long hair, my own of which was now wrapped in some massive, gravity-defying web of snarls around my head, thanks to the wind. But I made it indoors, brushed the tangles out before anyone could see them, cursed static electricity instead, and then tried to look pleasant as I made my way into the “main hall” (a small inner foyer where people meet between Sunday School and the regular service for food and fellowship).

I’m usually a little shy when initiating myself into a pre-established group of people for the first time. I usually prefer to stand at a distance for the first few meetings and observe, to get an idea of what people are like before I’m thrown into conversation with them, to have time to mentally prepare. But I’m finding that the more I get involved in ministries of various sorts, the less possible it is to opt to stand on the sidelines or disappear into the crowd until I’m comfortable enough to step out on my own terms. And I was quick to find out that the group at IBCB was small, but uncompromisingly friendly. I was immediately spotted by Pastor Bill, and then introduced to his wife, Deb, who refused to let me off the hook until I agreed to join them and another member at their home for lunch that day. Deb is the kind of person who is gifted in hospitality, and manages to make invitations without being pushy. She is utterly sincere and real. I immediately liked her, so she didn’t have to press hard. (more…)

Compared to games 5 and 6, last night’s final stand-off at Yankee Stadium was almost a snoozer. In the bottom of the 9th, when Sox victory seemed, at last, imminent, an announcer reminded us that our team had never managed to actually beat the Yankees when it mattered ; but for once, it was the Yankees in a funk, who couldn’t pull their act together at the crucial moment. They didn’t gleam like the winning machine they usually are; they fumbled. They seemed disoriented, like they weren’t sure why they were playing, after all. Meanwhile the Sox let a calm and collected Derek Lowe do the defense on the mound for the better part of the game, and rode in high on an offensive victory set off early with a 1st-inning 2-run homer by Ortiz (series MVP) and Johnny Damon’s surprise grand slam in the second. Damon was the next player up for redemption last night; he’s been taking media heat for weeks, now, unable to deliver the slightest advantage at the plate. If there’s ever a time to prove you’re worth your contract, it’s in a historical game 7 in the ALCS series, against your all-time rivals, and on their turf.

So without extra innings or torturous late-game dramatics, the Sox won the pennant and are bringing the World Series home to Boston for the first time since 1986. If they manage to clinch the World Series, it’ll be the first time since 1918. As it is, they’re well on their way to breaking major losing streaks: the Sox haven’t won a pennant in New York in a game 7 for an entire century.

But could Boston handle that? Boston, in the true sense, certainly could. But what about these “knuckleheads” (the reigning media term for college-age fools who use major and improbable, exhilarating sports victories as an excuse to set cars on fire and embarrass the city in front of the entire nation) who insist on turning a good thing into a source of fear and humiliation? (more…)

Today I found out that my old German Class buddy, Lisa Knies ("Liesl,” seen above wearing pink, posing with Rebecca Linville in Salzburg), will be having surgery within the week for the removal of a brain tumor found beside her pituitary gland and behind her optic nerve. This is obviously unexpected and difficult for all of us to take in, but must be particularly excruciating for her immediate family, and of course for Lisa herself. Her remarkable attitude astounds me, rebukes me, encourages me. She would appreciate your prayers. The following is an excerpt froma recent e-mail:

“Please pray for the following specific requests: that the surgeon will be able to get out the whole tumor, that there will not be damage to the optic nerve and pituitary gland, and that the recover process will be smooth. Thanks again for your prayers. Also, keep my mom [who fell and broke her foot while in Michigan helping Lisa through this process] in your prayers. Being here in Michigan has made it difficult to get into doctors that won’t cover their Wisconsin insurance. She is hoping to get into the one surgeon that will take our insurance. He will be able to determine if she will need surgery.”

Thanks in advance for taking this on in your prayers.

Liesl, wir haben dich Lieb. Gottes Segen wuenschen wir dir. Der hat dich ja in seinen Haenden.

I apologize for the wacked-out heading/banner/color scheme/thing. I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s like trying to remove my own thymus gland without knowing what or where a thymus gland is (or what the results of removing it will be). But it’s kind of fun. Trial and error. And at least it’s my own thymus gland, and not somebody else’s, because that would be scarier. All I really wanna do is make my blog look nearly as cool as Kammer’s or Gwen’s (or any number of blogs on bensfriends); they’ve got the thymus removal down pat…

Marathon nail-biters stretching over extra innings into the morning hours; records broken, and broken again; foul plays, reversed calls, bloody pitchers; and, of course, uniformed crowd-control. It’s been one heck of a series.

The Sox managed to finish last night’s game in the alotted 9 innings, for a change, but there was no relaxing of the giant band of tension that’s been stretching from Fenway to Yankee Stadium over the past week. Tonight it’s gotta snap, but in which direction, nobody knows. (more…)

Them crazy boys gone done it agin.’

It may not be the best baseball ever played, technically speaking, but it sure makes good drama.

About an hour-and-half ago, I received a call from my mother. She said that my brother had never shown up for his after-school program, and that he was therefore ‘among the missing.’ Would I mind driving over to see if the bus had dropped him at home?

She was remarkably calm. I, on the other hand, came very close to having a mental breakdown. Yes, I was slightly hysterical. I admit it. But the Lord kept me together long enough to get me into my driveway, where my brother’s bus was waiting. He was fine. I checked. Twice.

Losing my brother is on my top-3 list of things that I truly believe would crack me. I hate to admit that, because sometimes I feel like saying we can’t handle something is inviting some kind of proofing-time to come to instruct us that we can handle anything, in the Lord. And then I feel guilty for thinking that the Lord works that way. I don’t mind being shown that I can handle anything in Christ, I suppose (easy enough to say, though I don’t wish for such proof); yet, the thing I find troubling is that someone like my brother might suffer in order to teach me a lesson. (more…)

By the way, thank you Joy, from whose blog I ripped off the idea and the link for a handy clock on my sidebar. I had to have one, especially when I saw they had one that fit my color scheme :o) Check out her blog—it’s full of great writing, interesting photos, and intellectually and spiritually-stimulating discussions!

Johnny Damon put it this way, as quoted in this morning’s Boston Herald: “We get to live another day.”

He’s referring to Boston’s 12th-inning 2-run win over the New York Yankees last night at Fenway Park. Our boys were home, struggling to head off an imminent 4-game sweep by the Yanks, a disappointing turnaround to the Sox’s own sweep against the Anaheim Angels that started off their post-season.

If the Sox are staying alive, they can thank their human respirator, hard-hitting David Ortiz, who clinched the the longest game in ALCS history* with a two-run homer at about 1:22 am this morning. It’s not the first time Ortiz has knocked one home to save the Sox, and he smashed this one right into the Yankee bullpen. (more…)

Well, the apartment is coming along. Over the holiday weekend, I managed to move in a rather large futon without putting any holes in the stairwell walls (I’m on the third floor of my building); I also brought lots of pumpkins, which are now strewn about my floor and table tops and looking nice and homey. On Wednesday I went on a huge shopping spree at Pier1 and found the perfect rug, drapes and throw pillows and some nice (sale-priced) chairs so that people can sit down when they come over, which is always nice. It’s coming together, and as soon as I move those chairs and some other odds and ends in, I hope to post some pics.

It’s fun to have a new place. Or, any place, I should say, as it is my first. It’s been a year since I returned from Europe. I wasn’t originally planning to stay around Boston for so long. To be honest, I thought I’d be back in Greenville by now getting my Master’s degree in English. As it is, I was all set to go back in January. (more…)

Everyone loves a frivilous online quiz. According to this one, I’m like an angel. That said, I probably don’t need to point out the obvious the lack of biblical or even practical accuracy of this particular one, but maybe some of you might be interested to find out your supposed kinship fairies, dragons, or mermaids…

My rather far-fetched results:

You’re like an angel. As everyone knows, angels dwell in heaven. They were desribed as shining ones wearing white and the idea that they have wings is believed as well. Guardian angels are the ones that many people think are dead loved ones who try to protect the living friends or family they have on Earth. They usually had blonde hair and maybe brown with flawless appearance and sweet dispositions. They were cheerful, hopefull, selfless, loving, and kind [truncated].
What Mystical Creature Are You? (Pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

Most of you know who I am, and know me better than maybe you should. Some of you maybe THINK you might know me, but aren’t sure. And then there are those of you who don’t care if you know who I am or not, and that’s okay, and even expected :o) But since I’ve been asked, I thought I’d give those who are curious a chance to put a face with the name. But click with caution; and, whatever you do, don’t hold it against the blog!

So, have you ever had one of those days? As in, a Friday before a long weekend, after a harried week of trying to hold the office together while your boss is away, while simultaneously trying to move into a new apartment in the city and start a new blog?

I know, I know…cry me a river, and what-not. But I promise, I’m not complaining! The week has been full of blessings. Like, waking up in the city, with the sunrise–in a place of one’s own–and contributing to the 7am pulse of the urban morning commute; like the first frost on pumkins, and mugs of tea, and crisp, magenta leaves; like finding out that CSS is not SO scarey, after all; like having visitors peek at my blog. I love it when you visit my blog :o)

So how can I complain?

Still, it is a Friday before a long weekend, after a long week. And in just 4 minutes, I’ll be free! Free! Free to buy paint and area rugs and silverware for my new place! Free to go to Friday night Bible study and expand my mind and spirit! Free to put a basket on my head and do a jolly jig! Like these two!

That’s how Chiara and Luisa, my two German charges from my days as an Au Pair in DE, celebrate time off. So, how do you unwind?

Last year at this time, I was just returning to Hamburg, Germany, after spending 3 months in Salzburg, Austria. I was lamenting the fact that I’d somehow managed to corrupt my digital camera’s memory card and lose almost all of the videos and photos I’d captured of the beautiful Salzburg ‘Altstadt’ (the old part of the city). I had nothing to show my friends and family, save a few touristy postcards I’d managed to buy at the train station before leaving. Justslightly disappointing…

Weeks after my return to the States last October, I decided to fiddle with that memory card with the aid of my computer to see if anything could be salvaged. Several attempts proved futile, but I tried one last time. I opened the card file and clicked randomly on a series of folders, all bearing tech-y labels I didn’t understand. I was sure that whatever had happened to the card, I was only making it worse. And then, suddenly,a series of thumbnails appeared. Thumbnails of Salzburg photos! Photos I’d spent hours in the chilly rain trying to capture! They weren’t all there, but my favorite—my absolute, all-time, I-can’t-believe-I-had-anything-to-do-with-that favorite—photo was finally within my grasp.

I thought I’d share. It evokes a certain mood, doesn’t it?

I found this note in the margin of my Bible yeterday as I was reading through the beginning of the book of Romans:

“The Gospel: the WORD Incarnate. We introduce a person, not a plan. We should talk about Him, not us or what we need to do. (Bixby*)”

And, no, this is NOT an endorsement of a “let go and let God” philosophy… (more…)

This is what happens when you lease a new apartment and start a blog in the same week: you have trouble moving into both of them, and hope no one sees either one! At least, not until you have a chance to clean them up and make them your own. That said, this blog is in far better shape than said new apartment, and if you insist on visiting one or the other, you’ve made a good choice by coming here. Nonetheless, I apologize for the general lack of content at the moment, and hope that by the next time you stumble onto my doorstep, I have a little more to offer you. Until then, enjoy what’s here!