Thanksgiving

Thanks to Omya and the Elliotts for providing the turkey and thanks to Joel for cooking it.

Grandpa and Lucy.

The table without people . . . we were to busy eating to take pictures during the meal.

Obie & Emma.

Caroline

Obie helps Nate fix the Robobug.These girls had way too much fun together!

I think we tired him out.

We had way too much fun on the couch . . . way too much fun!

Lucy, reminding us what the holiday is about.

Again . . . too much fun on the couch.

Crazy girls . . . I like Lucy's expression and Reba looks like she really is giving birth.

Lucy had lots of fun with Reba's camera.

Grace gave us a concert.

. . . more couch fun!

My Amazing Kids!

She can touch her head with her toes! Amazing . . .

Hard at work.

Look what I can do with a Hershey Kiss.

Fiasco and Debacle

are some of the words that come to mind when I consider our experiment with sorghum this year. It was beautiful in the garden, it suffered no pests, and our Vermont raccoons had no idea what to do with it. But it turns out that this popping sorghum is pretty much un-poppable. Chicken feed.

Still, I stick by the experiment. My gardening activity could never match the scope of God's creative variety, but it should at least reflect an appreciation for it.

But if you were thinking about putting in a row of popping sorghum next year, you would do just as well to plant a row of crabgrass.

What happens when every stereotype of the liberal Vermonter

gets rolled into one third grade teacher?

A bulletin board outside the classroom with the heading "Wishing . . . " and below an assortment of student compositions of five or six lines each, with each line starting with "the deep peace of." The deep peace of sparkling snow to you. the deep peace of singing birds to you. the deep peace of beautiful mountains to you. Ad nauseum.
I imagine her classroom full of miniature zen monks with shaved heads and saffron robes, meditating during recess while the other, less enlightened, children lose their cool on the jungle gym.
But what bothers me most about this isn't the eastern mysticism thinly disguised as a language lesson. What bothers me most is that all of this deep peace is so incredibly shallow.
So this morning I too am wishing. I am wishing the deep peace of the cross to you. The deep peace of the cross of suffering and death, the cross on which a man died, a man who, alone of all the men who ever lived, did not deserve to do so. And that man who died, by his death, made a way for us beyond sparkling snow, beyond singing birds, beyond beautiful mountains into the court of the King of Kings where we will be welcomed on his account.
Thats the deep peace I wish for you.

Prayer Meeting

I think one of the most successful things about my ministry at North Chittenden Wesleyan Church has very little to do with North Chittenden Wesleyan Church. Every Wednesday I leave work a little early to go home and scarf down a quick meal while Lucy cheerfully fills a backpack with coloring books and crayons. Then she and I drive down the hill to Pittsford, sometimes in silence, but mostly in backseat chatter.
At the Village Manor Ruth is always standing in the foyer watching for us and she is always relieved to see that I have brought Lucy with me. She lets us in and the three of us go into the community room where five or six other octogenarian women are sitting around the table in their customary seats, Bibles out in front, hands folded demurely in laps. Lucy, all curls and effervescence, empties the contents of her backpack on the table and graciously receives their admiration.
Then, if you can believe it, we spend a half an hour studying Scripture. And we really do. And we sing a hymn and then we pray, and when we have prayed and open up our eyes we blink and sigh and feel as though we have emerged from something it was good to be immersed in.
And not one of these women attend the church. One of them, however, did attend the church in her youth for a time before moving and becoming affiliated with the Wesleyan Church in Forestdale. And this wonderful saint is actually one of the keys to the success of the prayer meeting. Not because she has wonderful insight into Scripture, although she does, but more because she is hard of hearing.
I have decided that every prayer meeting and Bible study should include someone who is nearly deaf, because someone hard of hearing helps you to edit yourself. I don't say things at prayer meeting unless it seems like they're worth shouting, and when it comes to Scripture and the things of faith that seems about right. If they are worth saying at all, then shout, and if you can't bring yourself to shout, then be silent.

Names for Ruthie's Cat

Top Four:
Zion
Pixie
Ivy
Lily

Other Favorites:
Zinnia
Blueberry
Fern
Ella
Esther
Rosie

Elisabeth's Birthday List (As requested by Grandma)

horses
stickers
A Life of Faith book
computer game
soccer ball
monopoly
Adventures of Average Boy
puzzle
"Surprise me"

NEW ITEM: Backpack (yellow, lime green, perfers not to have "girlie colors")

Go Highlanders!

Obadiah fell asleep in the car on the way to CSJ and stayed asleep for the entire game.

Houghton in Rutland, VT!

The final score . . . Houghton is currently undefeated!

Lucy between her grandparents.

The fan club.

Future Alumni.

Highlight

The highlight of my day was reading what the locker room nickname is for the unexpectedly impressive new running back for the Patriots, BenJarvis Green-Ellis: "Law firm."

The Republic For Which It Stands

This afternoon I did a double take when driving past a neighbor's house. I've driven past it for years now. For most of that time if I've paused to consider the house at all it has been to admire the flowers and beautiful landscaping. More recently it has been to count with wincing admiration the proliferation of lawn signs touting Obama, or other candidates who were more local if no less radical.

Today all the Obama signs were gone but for the first time in all the time I've lived here I saw an American flag there. It was attached to the side of their garage by staples or something.

Now, I'm making some assumptions about a connection between Obama's victory and their newfound patriotic sentiment, but I couldn't help remembering Michelle Obama's words earlier in the campaign about how she was proud of her country for the first time in her life.

I do not regard this new flag-waving (or flag stapling, as it were) as a positive development. Conservatives have refused to lower their flags for the same reason that they were flying them in the first place. Their affection for the flag reflects their loyalty to the "republic for which it stands," which is why the matter of who happens to be president has no bearing for them on whether or not to fly the flag.

I'm afraid that my neighbor's flag is displayed more as a token of their ideological victory than an expression of their abiding love of country. And in a few months time it will be hard to tell which is more tattered, shabby, and bleached of color: that pointed flag, or the administration that finally made it possible for my neighbors to display it.

Eat Local

Our entire dinner this evening was grown or fed in the Holden Valley. We had parsley root with chervil, green beans, pork chops with apples, and blue mash potatoes.

Announcing Phase 1

Of Project Elect Me to be the Next Unthinkably Radical President (PEM-NURB). I have begun work on the first in a series of thoughtful and inspiring memoirs. The working title is "Pringles From My Father: The Joel Tom Tate Story."
It turns out I am the one I have been waiting for.

I'm a Fan of Fuel-vantage!

I filled up our van today for $35.75 . . . that is $1.88 a gallon!

I wouldn't be surprised if he climbed Mt. Everest someday.

We are officially in loyal opposition mode.

Election Day

More sadness . . .

Redskins vs. Steelers

Sadness. Complete sadness.

All Hallow's Eve

We spent our evening munching on popcorn and homemade pizza while watching Journey to the Center of the Earth. We set up a projector to the laptop , rearranged the furniture, and watched the movie on the big screen (our living room wall). Joel & I were on the couch and the kids on the floor. I have no pictures of this event because my kids made their way to the couch and perched themselves right on us. There were some thrilling scary parts which made it an appropriate movie for Halloween.