May for the Molseses...

Excuses about slow-dial-up internet connections aside, it has been far too long since we have updated you all about what is going on with us. To be brief, we have been on several trips, and have more to come. We were in Toronto with our friend Amanda for ICS's convocation ceremony, and the events surrounding it. It was a whirlwind weekend--we got to see the White Sox beat the Blue Jays, hear some jazz at the Rex (this is getting to be a common place to take our friends...), enjoy friends and fellowship at ICS's local pub: Einstein's, snag some grub at the Canadian favorite Tim Horton's hear Nik Ansell give his inaugural address, watch John Suk be installed as president of ICS, experience Jim Olthuis' festschrift, and return all of our library books (none were overdue!). It was a lot to fit into just a couple days, but it was all very enjoyable!

Just a few days after getting back, Mike and I traveled out to our Alma Mater to present alongside Ben some works-in-progress for colleagues there. It was a rewarding experience, and I hope only the first of many more alumni symposia!

It has been settling into life since then--Mike continues to work long hours (especially on the weekends) and I have been trying to keep busy reading while looking for a summer job (still...), and getting to work at Fay's (where the rest of the Mols' family works) last Saturday.

So, for those of you that are interested--my reading list so far this summer has been (after the books I read for course papers, of course):
*She Came to Stay* by Simone de Beauvoir--A novel, but one that contains existentialist philosophy before Sartre wrote about existentialism. Very intriguing descriptions of life in relationships.
*The Poisonwood Bible* by Barbara Kingsolver--Another novel (and an Oprah book) which deeply affected me. Though it isn't necessarily a "happy" story, it contains a wonder about the world around us, and an appreciation for its diversity that is awe-inspiring and encourages me to enjoy life instead of control and change it.
*The Ragamuffin Gospel* by Brennan Manning--On recommendation of my sister-in-law, also deeply affecting about the amazing love and grace of God that reaches out to all of us as ragamuffins. This book contains lessons that I need to learn and re-learn about how to live out of love as the rule of life instead of living from a place of fear. A fantastic book!

The Chapel Unchanged

Just got a few minutes to write a bit, but for all those friends praying for our paper writing situation, I am proud to say that I am over the hump--three of four papers in, and the fourth will be gone on Tuesday!!! They aren't my best work, but I am getting increasingly hard on myself, and it was time to be done--I am having trouble putting coherent thoughts in a row right now! I will let Mike share with you his good news in good time, but he has been busy keeping up with friends in Illinois (I know, not enough of you, but we will get there, I promise!), getting sick, and most importantly (well, not REALLY) working tonnes and tonnes so we can do this graduate school thing for another year...

I am still looking for gainful employment to keep me busy, so if anyone knows about work in DeKalb (I'll do just about anything) or the vicinity, let me know!

We are up to Toronto again next weekend for Convocation at ICS, so we will regale you with international mysteries when we get back. For now, though, Au Revoir!

It was my intention this week to add another school to our already-lengthy list of "Institutions of Higher Education Attended." Instead, I added to our "Notable Notables of the Mols' that Noone Really Cares About." I can tell you are dying to hear about it, and I will have to oblige. Because I am such a "special case" (no comments from the peanut gallery about this one), I have called to the attention of the "Powers That Be" at Northern Illinois University a need for a policy change in their admissions documentation. WHOOO HOOO!

Problem is, I couldn't even sneak through that little loophole I found in order to make this application procedure just a little bit easier for me before it closed up, prior to the official change. If anyone really cares about the particulars, I am more than happy to relate them, but the long and short of it is that I have to send in my graduate school transcript (from The ICS) and get a credit evaluation (of their credits--which are on the European system--confusing as all get out for Americans...) in order to take an undergraduate, entry level French 101 course for three weeks about a month from now. How long do you think all of that admissions fanangaling is going to take? I am afraid to find out--well, I will keep you all posted...

To add to our "Notable Notables" list, Mike's hair is currently as short as it's ever been: That is, shaved (with the exception of a teeny-tiny-just-a-couple-of-hairs-bit that I missed with the shaver that is located on the side of his head--Think Ancient Egyptian Prince...got it?).

Well, when I run across any more, I will be sure to let you know... Until then, we remain faithfully yours!-Y

For those who are curious about our current status, we are now in the process of settling into the Mols homestead in Illinois. After an enjoyable auto trip through eastern Ontario, a stop at Niagara, and around lake Erie through New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana, we arrived safely in Illinois. I have secured work with a local caterer for the summer, which will hopefully allow us to stockpile for the leaner winter months and "support our habit" at school. (I love that phrase! My manager said that to me recently and I will contemplate it for some time.) Yvana will be taking classes at Northern Illinois as soon as the bureaucrats have been sated or slaughtered. She is also seeking something part time in DeKalb, to cut down on unstewardly fuel use. A few promising leads, but no bites yet.

To acknowledge the elephant in the room, no, we have not finished our papers. Yvana has 3 drafts and is working on her fourth, but I'm still stuck on my second. We have faith, but we also have anxiety; and a lot of books.

We hope to keep you updated on the goings on, and our thoughts concerning these goings, as they unfold. -M

I can't say about death, and taxes are in, so right now it seems as if nothing is sure except paper deadlines and the fact that Kidgit is going to comment on this blog... But as we are self-involved in the first of those sureties, life continues to swirl and swirl around us. While we can't be much more specific than that right now, please pray for us through the coming months as we try to find equilibrium again. As we find ourselves in process, as seems our most "stable" state, your friendship and God's strength alone are our guiding stars, thank you!

In other, more upbeat news, we have just found a new way to waste time on the internet... Warning--those of you with lots of books and little time, don't read farther, you most likely will regret it--though you will have an unbelievably fun time before that regret strikes!

LibraryThing.com is a book cataloguing website that allows easy, free entry of up to 200 books in a personal collection, allowing you to "tag" books with helpful categorization (fiction or 18th Century Women's Literature--depending on your pickiness!), and also gives you reccomendations from other, real users who have collections similar to yours (Kinda like Amazon's reccomendation, but a whole lot better, believe me!). Anyway, I'll stop gushing and let you see for yourself--but remember my warning; I'll assume no responsibility for missed classes, meetings, meals... you get the idea.

Curious? Here is our library!-Y

Concerning this engaging conversation about the merits and failures of Robbin Williams, Slate has this posted a review of his latest train-wreck, RV. Check it out if you're interested to get in on this. -M

Dara just sent me a picture from our visit with her a month ago, so here is a beautiful shot of Lake Ontario, and The Beach. Makes you want to jump in, eh?

I drink warm milk. Right before bed, or in the middle of the afternoon to just relax me, take the chill off, whatever. I know, it sounds a bit gross and maybe a bit more "old-grandmother-ly," but hear me out.

My creation of this delicious beverage is very particular. That is, it follows particular steps, not that it is particular at all in its measurements--but hey, it still is me, after all! I have found, however that the very steps that eventually produce the finished product can be soothing in their own right. Maybe you'll see what I mean as I write--or maybe you will have to try it yourself...

You have to start off with a mug full of cold milk. Then, when you pour in the slug of vanilla extract it first sinks in a single stream right to the bottom and then mushrooms up to the top again, coloring the milk a warm and welcoming tan color. Nuke-ing the vanilla milk for a minute or a minute and a half will get you the warm milk, but it isn't nearly done yet.

The sprinkle of cinnamon comes next, but this is no insignificant step in this process. You see, when the first particles of cinnamon hit the warm beverage, they spread out as thin as possible, trying to cover the entire top of the milk, but never sinking to the bottom. I have grown to have quite a fondness for this characteristic of the cinnamon. But that's for later.

The next ingredient was a suggestion by Mike. The first time he tried my warm milk he did kinda like it--with one addition--nutmeg. So, I guess this is a Mols' original, not just my own. When the first tiniest bit of nutmeg hits the protective cinnamon spread sitting on the top of my warm milk, the cinnamon begins to crack. I have never tried it the other way, so I don't know if it would also work in reverse, but who likes that much nutmeg? and anyway it would destroy my analogy!

As you probably would guess, for this to truly be a delicious, relaxing drink, a teaspoon of sugar is a must. When you stir in the sugar with the now-cracked cinnamon covering and divisive nutmeg, both the nutmeg and the cinnamon seem to dissapear into the quickly moving white cyclone. As soon as the spoon halts, though, so does the assumption that the spices would easily dissolve into the liquid. The cinnamon rises up and attempts again to keep the high ground and spread its goodness over the whole surface of the drink, but this time in more definite clumps than before--the strain on it was too great to stay as spread as it was in the beginning. The nutmeg, however, doesn't show itself again as it had before.

Ok, before I get into my clever analogy, there is some complaints from the peanut gallery--aka Mike (sorry to mix metaphors). I, in no way, intend to identify any person with any ingredient. Mike's addition to the warm milk creation was gratefully recieved and very important. The nutmeg gives it a spiciness that it would have otherwise never had, and I could now never go back to the way it was before that suggestion. Again, I repeat, the personification of the warm milk ingredients in no way relates to real people, any resemblence is coincidental, but hopefully inspiring...

So, for the much awaited (or maybe not) metaphor, which is probably already way too obvious: I see cinnamon as taking the high road--making connections across all the possibilities it can, but never separating from those who made it what it is. Cinnamon is resilient and seeks this high road even through great adversity, where some closer and more lasting connections are made (the visible clumps). On the other hand, the nutmeg only splits what has already been made, highlighting weakness and exploiting them until they become cracks. Once its work is done, however, it descends in obscurity--losing its specific identity. As for the other ingredients, the milk, vanilla and sugar--I'll leave that up to you, my readers--try your own hand at a warm milk analogy!

Thought for the week: What kind of warm milk ingredient are you? (50 points for answers that promote discussion, 75 points for new analogies and answers...)

Other thought for the week: So, do the littlest birds sing the prettiest songs or do the prettiest birds sing the silliest songs? (100 points to the first person who gives it a answer, a wherefore AND can place my obscure partial allusion here...)

So he shall startle many nations; kings shall shut their mouths because of him; for that which had not been told they shall see, and that which they had not heard they shall contemplate. -Isaiah

I'm not sure what one can say when one seems to have nothing which can be said. The difficulty, if not impossibility, of expressing or reducing thoughts and experiences to language, especially to words, is increasingly the subject of my contemplation. Many of the meaningful thoughts and non-spoken/written reflections I have seem to overflow in abundance beyond the capacity of language.

Paul Ricoeur has provided me with some helpful tools understanding this aspect of a "worded" existence, so to say. Language has everyday uses: I tell you that I see a bird flying. Basically, someone is saying something about something to someone. But what does it mean for me to tell you that my heart is a soaring bird? Or that I am a dead bird on a cold day? Or that someone is cold? My heart is not literally a bird or really soaring, I am not really dead, an a person may not be experiencing bodily temperature fluctuation. But in transgressing the bounds of language, in stretching it and in a way misusing it we open our world of communication and understanding to new possibilities. Someone is still saying something about something to someone, but in many instances we break the rules of the dictionary to really say something about our experiences. This non-dictionary saying is often meant to shock and surprise others—leading others to (hopefully), a new view of the mystery of reality or at least further contemplation together of the realities most meaningful experiences. In other words, it explodes the established meaning in order to say something new.

Is this just me rambling on about foolish philosophy garbage? Maybe... but what does it mean that the kingdom of God is like a man going on a journey... or that the kingdom of God is in the midst of us... or that just as we are all like sheep, so also is the Lamb of God. Our goal is to understand these things, each other, and ourselves, but when we simply attempt to capture meaning, tame it, and put it in a dictionary, we kill it, and take away the "real" meaning altogether. Our hope for meaning is that we can move beyond meaning.

Does this mean that I'm excused from writing papers? Unfortunately, no. Just because communication is always hard work doesn't mean that we can escape from it... -M

For those of you with lingering doubts about our (well, at least MY) radical geekiness, let me put them to rest. First of all, I am using "radical" in its original meaning--"root"--not its 80's meaning of... well, you know. There are SOME geeky things that are even beyond me.

In a blog that is about our adventures in TORONTO, one would expect non-stop exciting tales about delicious, exotic restaurants, hopping clubs, breathtaking sights... But, in a blog about US in Toronto, you are going to have to settle with the everyday, but no less exciting (sometimes) tales of home-cooked vegetarian fare, holy week at St. Anne's Anglican Church and libraries at the University of Toronto. Leaving aside our daily bread at home and church, I wanted to acquaint all of you with the campus libraries of our dear University of Toronto. Don't leave yet! There really is a point!

The University of Toronto is home to no less than six Colleges, each from a different denominational background. St. Mikes is Catholic, Wycliffe is Anglican, Victoria is affiliated with the United Church, Knox with the Presbyterian, Regis with the Jesuits, and Trinity with the high Anglican. Anyway, each one of these small, lovely colleges has its own library, specializing in its particular tradition, but that also has books of general interest. Each one of these libraries is immaculately designed for not only a studious experience, but also an aesthetic one. As ICS students, we are allowed borrowing privledges at all of them. And of course, University of Toronto's own... Robarts.

Robarts is a 13 floor (yes, it has a floor thirteen, I am on it at least once a week) mostrosity of a building, designed in the sixties/seventies and the inspiration for Umberto Eco's *In the Name of the Rose* (I haven't read it, but I plan to this summer--you'll see why in what follows). For those of you who haven't read it and want a picture, Mike says, "From the moment you walk in your nose is assaulted by a stench of indeterminate origin, you are confronted with surly and unhelpful staff, half the time anything mechanical or computerized is broken, you are all but strip-searched to get into the stacks. Once in the stacks, after waiting an eternity and a half to get in an elevator that has a four in five chance of being broken, you squeeze down the claustrophobic row of seemingly endless, obscure books with no particular order to them as you squint through the dim and horrible fluorescent lighting, emitting a constant buzzing hum, which gives you a headache. If you are lucky enough to find the book that you need, which is truly a miracle, you had best get it back in plenty of time before it's due, because as often as books are lost in the shelves, they are lost in the book return. It truly is a monument to what happens when economists and mathematicians run wild with building projects." Everyone hates Robarts. If you are looking for another opinion, you could find about a thousand up here, but they would all sound about the same.

Now that you have a bit of the lay of "Library-land", I suppose it would surprise you (hey, it surprises me every day!) to know:

I can only work in Robarts.

While Mike is sitting reading away by the fireplace in an overstuffed chair in an acoustically savvy, hardwood floor room at Trinity Library, I find myself only really productive sitting in a partially broken, hard-backed chair in a graffiti-covered cubicle on either the 9th or 13th floor. I don't want this to be the case. I tried reading in those overstuffed chairs at Trinity, writing on the top floor of Victoria's library--overlooking the amazing striking art they hang. I can only account for my boorish-philistine-ness by claiming distractedness at the obvious aesthetic qualities of the other buildings. What else could it be?

As paper-writing season is in full swing, I have a feeling I am going to again get real cozy with the ugliness of Robarts--what can I say? it works for me! Though going into next year, I welcome any suggestions about interventions. I don't think this can go on much longer... Am I going to have to keep a "the ugly room" at home, too?

Thinking, as I have been of late, almost exclusively: "What am I going to write my course papers about this term?" has kept me from something suitable to post, though I have been meaning to for several days. Because we want to keep this blog accessible and about our LIFE (this is not MyMolseyThoughts, afterall--though that might be a future development...), I have hesitated sharing with all of you what I have been THINKING, though in light of experiences yesterday, and Michael's and my conviction that philosophy (and thinking about philosophy...) comes out of life and experiences, I now write. Whether it lives up to my lofty expectations, well, that is for you to decide.

As I mentioned in opening this post, my life (and dare I speak for Mike's as well?) has been preoccupied with my thoughts--an occupational hazard, I suppose, for graduate work in philosophy--of my coming papers. Since we would really like to have them (eight between the two of us...) done before we head back to Illinois in the beginning of May, I am beginning to feel the crunch. For those of you that don't know me well, this usually means that I become singularly focused to the extreme until I meet my goal. My agenda for yesterday, as should therefore be no surprise, was packed to the limit with visits to numerous of the University of Toronto Libraries, reseaching articles online, reading and taking notes on various texts, etc. I am proud to say in retrospect that I accomplished very few of those lofty (yet important) goals. I started off fairly well, but upon visiting the Institute for lunch and Wednesday Worship, I "fell" into several exceedingly "unproductive" hours of not visiting libraries, not reading, not taking notes...

I put the two negative words in quotes, since I refuse to see those hours (as I am tempted to) as wasted. In fact, I am convinced now that my very attitude that my conversations yesterday afternoon were more important than any textual work I could do gave these many conversations the fruitful quality that they ended up having for me. Instead of (alone) researching paper topics that I was confused enough about, I talked to, engaged with people that were essential for me to clarify what I really wanted me to do, thereby giving me direction for the solitary research work that was to come. By sticking to my singular focus (Research, Read, Write!), I would have not only damaged relationships with people I care about, but also would have actually (ironically, or maybe not so...) wasted time, by direction-less-ly pursuing papers that I had no idea how to go about.

I am not going to sit here and tell you that I am ready to go, write my papers and be done (as one part of me still secretly hopes). And, I am not going to tell you that this was an easy realization to make (how often have I neglected relationship to pursue my GOAL?). I am going to say, however, that this relational learning together, this kind of practicing of philosophy, is something that I want to keep practicing, beyond paper-writing season (is there a beyond?), and through the rest of my life. As I am reading currently in Hannah Arendt, thinking is essential in its culmination in moral action--getting stuck in thinking for the sake of thinking more (as I was in my focus on finishing papers) is of little worth if it is not connected to others and action.

I realize with this post that I am risking turning this blog into a therapeutic tool (as Mike seemed to begin last post...what's wrong with that?), but for those of you who care enough to have read this far, you deserve to know our life, which for now, will be some of our thoughts as well. We are not always on the grand Toronto adventures of last week, or the traveling adventures that are past and coming soon again. But we are still here, thinking (actively!) and writing, wanting to be in connection to all of you. So, till next time, Y

Well, it's been a few days since Dara, Bob, Paul and Autumn returned to the states, and life is adjusting back to normal just in time to be done with classes. This coming week will be the last for two of ours (three for Yvana!), which leaves us the rest of April to work on research. But returning to our friends, it was sad to see them go, especially since we looked forward to them coming up so much and the time passed so quickly...

It just seemed like a lot of things have been happening in the past few weeks that have been impossible to explain, even face to face with my wife, and I suppose now heading into paper season it will get no better. The closest thing I can liken it to is an identity crisis, but I don't think that completely captures what I hope to describe. I have simply been confronting a lot of aspects in my professional work that I just can't grasp: the technical, analytical, syllogistic philosophy that seems so integral to this discipline. This realization reminded me why I studied what I did in undergrad; history and literature are storied subjects. It is my hope, then, that I can get some help from people to figure out a way to see the storied nature of philosophy as integral to philosophy itself- that the message is in the medium( I’m finding Paul Ricoeur to be a tremendous help in applying some philosophical leverage in that respect), and, most importantly, that at the end of the day the ultimate medium is in life itself.

So what does all this have to do with our recently visiting buddies? Well, I can't make it clear abstractly, so let me give you a brief sketch. I was dealing with my own inadequacies professionally and personally, when I said something to my wife that should never have been said. It hurt her, it hurt the people I said it in front of, and it hurt the love relationship between all involved. So I guess this is a belated confession and apology (in the many senses of the words) to all the people I love, whether victims of this instance of my own hatred or others. Anyone who might be reading this probably has some painful memories of how I shamefully treated them, but space won't allow, and the time cannot be found to make things right. Know, however, that I constantly remember them (even if you don't think I do) as I do the best I can to make my life the medium for my philosophy. -M

Spring has Sprung in Toronto...
...and Michael, Dara and I made the best of it in quite a sight-seeing-extravaganza yesterday! We were blest this past Saturday to visit with FOUR of our good friends from the Chicago-area, who flew like (and with?!) the wind to spend their Spring break/vacation time with us. While Bob, Paul (M and Y's Trin friends) and Autumn left after church to head even farther East, to Montreal, Dara (friend of Y's from WA, and now IL!) gave us a great excuse to see the best of what our fair city of Toronto has to offer, on one of the most beautiful sunny days this year! A run-down, with commentary, of our expedition:

First off, as good, cheap graduate students, we packed a lunch. While this is a wonderful city, you just can't beat the price of making your lunch at home! This ended up being a great idea, taking into consideration all the walking we would do in the next few hours...

Next, we headed off to the subway stop and bought our day passes, which gave the three of us the ability to travel all day on the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC) vehicles for just 16CDN--what a deal! In the course of our travels, we made good use of our passes by using (at various points) the subway, streetcar, buses and our feet--seeing more of the city than Mike and I had ever before.

Our first detour was to walk around by Bay and Yonge street (Chicagoans, read Michigan Ave.), where we showed Dara a part of "The Longest Street in the World" (Yonge). Thankfully we didn't have to walk it... As it was getting to be long after lunch time and our picnic destination was still a ways off, however, we hopped back on our trusty TTC and headed to our second major stop:

The Beaches (Following this link, we were at dot "7")! What a wonderful day for the beach. Though it reminded me of the beach behind the resort we stayed at in Puerto Vallarta (briefly... Ok, it is a bit of a stretch) the wind and the remainders of winter forced us to keep winter coats and gloves on nearly the whole time. After sitting down for a bite and watching the waves lap the shore and the dogs lap the waves (and Dara's apple core--FROM HER HAND!) we got moving again, walking up the boardwalk and picking up rocks as we went along. Realizing it wasn't really as warm as we had hoped, we ducked into a coffee shop for a warm up before getting on our way again--taking the Queen streetcar this time--to...

The Distillery District. I had suggested this kind of on a lark, since some people had reccomended it to us, but we gave it a shot--what a treat! The Distillery District is an old Victorian part of the city, where gobs of Holywood flims have been shot (Not that I have seen any of them... Cinderlla Man comes to mind, but there are plenty more). Tinsel Town was on to something when they found this place, though--it has old-timey buildings with tons of art galleries (we went into two), a chocolate-maker, paper-maker, ceramics-maker, a few restaurants (probably with some good brews, considering it is the DISTILLERY district!) and tons more.

Leaving the turn of the century (I guess I need to clarify that more now that we are in the NEXT century--20th) behind, we headed off into the sunset (literally) on our walk down Front Street past the St. Lawrence Market (closed, unfortunately). We headed for Union station, via the Hockey Hall of Fame (we are in Canada, eh?), the entrance to the Eaton Center (or should I say "Centre"??) and BCE Place (a very picturesque place with indoor gardens and lots of glass). I guess we were too busy "VIA-ing," and we missed Union station, but caught the subway at the next stop, taking it to College--our favorite and most traveled street--and then to home.

After dinner we went out again, this time for dessert close to home at the delicious Sicilian Sidewalk Cafe (Mike and I had been there before, but Dara was in for a treat!), and then we headed out to The Rex Jazz Bar--"More Great Jazz than anywhere else, all the time!," where we got to listen to some wonderful live Jazz/Blues performed by Sienna Dahlen. Exhausted after her set at about Midnight, we chatted with her for a bit before taking the TTC home again. Quite an eventful day, but we got to cover a bit of the city, and note some place that we will definitly want to hit again!

Small victories eventually add up, so I might as well share it. Our daily bicycle trek between apartment and school takes us approximately 3 miles along College Street, along which the streetcars run. Now, let me tell you, it's no fun to be caught riding next to a streetcar for a number of reasons, foremost of which are: 1) these things are constantly stopping in order to pick up and drop off passengers, meaning you must do the same or risk running over the elderly as they hobble to the curb, which I'm sure would add a few minutes to your stay in purgatory (don't freak out, I'm just saying that to be funny... I haven't bought into popery... yet). And 2) the autos are usually impatient to get past these streetcars and end up doing stupid and risky things in order to get by. But what might be an inconvenient fender-bender for a car could pretty easily turn life threatening for a cyclist. Anyway, today I started off next to a streetcar at school and hooved it to pull ahead... but by the time I got to our street, I had passed 3! I realize that many of you might ridicule my enthusiasm at my self-perceived biking prowess, but hey, I don't got much else... So back off my bike! -M

Just another case in point--this blog thing can get to be quite a time-waster if I so choose... Hey, it's my favorite color, I had to take it!

I am "Grass Green"

Down to earth and a bit of a hippie, you are very into nature and the outdoors. You accept the world and people as they are. You don't try to change things. You are also very comfortable with yourself, flaws and all. Optimistic about the future, you feel like life is always getting better.

What Color Green Are You?

"A bit of a hippie?" It is amazing what a couple months at grad school in Canada can do to you... "Optimistic about the future?" Definitely. Dare you to take the quiz, too... --Y

Since our last email, for which I entirely assume responsibility, was dour and spiceless, this post will begin a (re)new(ed) and joyous approach of fun and quirky moments in our lives. Some bland, abstract philosopical things might sneak their way in, but we hope that the truly philosophical can be the minute narrative of our lives... so, fun things!

To begin, I, Michael, have taken up knitting, proving the folk wisdom that married folk grow more alike as they live together (and after only 1.5 years!). To date, Yvana has not picked up any of my habits, she hopes, but we wait with bated breath. I hope to knit and purl my way to a scarf first, and eventually a sweater, but time will tell.

Yvana has had a rash of winter clothing loss recently... a scarf, and one glove each from two pairs. She is down to one pair of thinsulate gloves and one pair mittens- doing fine with the scarves though. I must specify, however, that it has not been her fault; the weather has been unusually windy and has blown these gloves away rather quickly, especially while biking; it's a hard thing, because when we begin we are usually cold, but about halfway to school/home, the activity of biking makes us uncomfortably warm, which means we shed some outer shells, which leads to lost articles. But we hope to make it through the winter without any further regresses.

A short posting, but I suppose that's the point. We are off this afternoon to volunteer at our church's community dinner, where we offer free, hot meals to whoever needs or wants one, so it promises to be an enjoyable, rewarding, and interesting time. -M

Well, we have broken yet another barrier in the long, barrier-filled information superhighway, just after I had gotten used to my CB and 8-Track... We'll post some more sometime soon, as our blog-addicted friends have no doubt paved the way for us. -M