Category: Guest Post

This is a guest post by my good friend Johanna Fenton. Happy New Year to all!

The house which we just moved into was advertised as a “starter” home. I felt slightly offended, because we had fallen in love with the place but by no means would it be a “starter” home for us. We hope it’s a “finisher” home, meaning, we hope to stay here a really long time.

There are several different ways of counting how many times one moves. There are different measurements … like, do you count the time we moved to Dallas for 3 months? Or do you only measure the major moves … entire household in all?

By different counts we’ve moved upwards to 16 times down to 7 times, depending on how you define a “move.” That’s in the last 10 years.

And I realized for the first time that Jesus never upgraded from the time he was born in a manger in a the little town of Bethlehem. A song I like by Rich Mullins goes:

Birds have nests / Foxes have dens / But the hope of the whole world rests on the shoulders of a homeless man

Jesus had a starter home – a manger. And he had a finisher home – at home with his Father God.

Anyway, I’d like to say that a lot has happened in 16 or 7 moves. I’ve gone from “moving up” to “moving down,” far enough to fall in love with the quirky, dated elements of our “new” “starter” home. Here are a few … these are different shelf papers in our kitchen cabinets. Plus, you’ll see some lovely wallpaper. 🙂

It’s the shiny bits of life that catch you.

This is a guest post by my brother Bill.

Last week I drove from San Antonio up to Austin and back to attend a music show. On the way up, there was a 45-minute delay due to construction. At three consecutive points along the access road to the freeway, the entrance ramps were closed. Traffic slowed to a crawl and I thought, “Couldn’t they have done these one at a time instead of all at once?” I began to get frustrated, but then did as I usually do in traffic jams. I thought about the words of the Serenity Prayer’s opening stanza. It was a reminder not to get stressed out over something I could not control. This actually works for me, as I normally do not get anxious in a traffic jam unless it’s going to make me very late for a scheduled event. In this case I had the extra time.

Later I had a second opportunity to use the Serenity Prayer. I was heading to the (new-to-me) concert venue, trying to locate it using the Maps app that came with my new iPhone. Maps turned out to be very ineffective, giving wrong directions and distances. Again, contemplating the ideas in the Serenity Prayer, I was able to calm down somewhat, although not as well as during the traffic jam. This time there was a risk I would miss the start of the concert. (Fortunately I did not, as it began 20 minutes late.)

The concepts in the Serenity Prayer are simple yet profound. Regardless of one’s religious preferences, they can have value. Here is the opening stanza.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

This is a guest post by my brother Bill. I also lived under that anti-commercials paradigm – so it’s ironic that my work involves marketing and advertising. But I do use the remote to mute commercials, the vast majority of the time.

Growing up in the late ’60s and early ’70s, we kids knew there was a condition in our home for watching TV. Our dad had a firm rule that the commercials had to be turned down! As this was before the invention of remote control devices and “Mute” buttons, it involved jumping up from your seat as soon as a commercial break started, running to the TV set and turning the volume knob counterclockwise all the way. Then the whole process would be repeated in reverse once the show was back on. He did this because he wanted to spare us (and the adults) from the experience of having commercial jingles running in our heads (or humming them around the house). In those days, most commercials contained a jingle (song) written specifically for the product, and they were indeed quite catchy. A few must have snuck through from those infrequent times when commercials weren’t turned down – to this day, I can sing you the opening bars of “Wouldn’t you really rather have a Buick?” or “Winston tastes good, like a cigarette should.” (Yes, cigarette commercials were allowed on TV for part of that time.)

Thinking about all of this made me wonder when exactly jingles went away, as they are very rare now. A television viewer from that era would be put off by what we see today … commercials now to involve a lot of action/motion and quick cuts. (I could do with fewer quick cuts, myself.)

Photo is a modified version of a Flikr photo by theterrifictc.

This short story is a guest post by my brother Bill, for your holiday reading pleasure. (Thanks Bill!)

It’s a little dark in the context of your optimistic beginning-of-a-new-year moods, but I still think it’s entertaining.

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Once there was a cruel and clever king. He lived in a large castle on a high hilltop, overlooking a beautiful green valley and a lake. In those days, a dragon took up residence in the kingdom. The dragon let it be known that he would destroy all the villages one by one unless he was given a beautiful virgin to eat. When the King heard this, he grew angry and turned red in the face. He bellowed, “We do not negotiate with terrorists!” (The King liked to refer to himself using the royal “We.”) He refused to meet the dragon’s demands.

To show his contempt for the dragon and disdain for the serfs, the King made his courtiers put on a comedic play where a dragon ate a whole village. The role of the dragon was played by the largest and fattest noble. Each time he “ate” a villager, he let out a loud, convincing belch. Sitting next to the King, his only child, the lovely (and virginal) Sesbeth, did not laugh. She was as kind as her father was cruel. Sesbeth loved the people of the kingdom, and they loved her. Despite all of that, her father treasured Sesbeth more than all else in the world. In his cold, cruel heart, he had a soft spot for his daughter.

Not having received his tribute of a lovely virgin, one bright morning the dragon flew over the village of Mossfelk, breathing flames and burning everything to the ground. Upon hearing this, the King stubbornly refused to change his stance. “No negotiating!” he shouted again, although perhaps with a bit less conviction. Over the next few days the dragon destroyed two more villages, Humpert and Rosehearth.

Now the King began to worry. If all his villages were destroyed, where would he get his annual tribute of gold? Who would harvest the food that spread across his dinner table? He summoned his court wizard, the ancient and wise Albrey. The King told Albrey of a plan he had devised and required the mage to fashion a doppelganger for Sesbeth. The faux Sesbeth would be exactly like her in every way except one. She would be ensorcelled with a powerful spell that would instantly destroy her killer.

Albrey immediately set about researching the task, searching through his spellbooks. He also quietly gathered bits and pieces of from the life of Princess Sesbeth, such as one of her neglected childhood dolls, a scarf she no longer wore, and bits of her hair from a used hairbrush. Finally he began creating the doppelganger, working through the night. Just to have a name for his project, he decided to call her Tesh. People in the castle didn’t know what was going on, but they saw mysterious flashes of light and heard rumbling noises, and they wondered.

Finally Albrey was finished. He secretly brought Tesh to the King’s quarters. The King walked slowly around Albrey’s creation, whistling as he admired the result. “She’ll do,” he said. Albrey explained that Tesh could only exist for ten days, at which point she would crumble into nothing. The King called for his Captain of the Guard. He ordered that the most trustworthy and brave guard be brought to him. Moments later, a sturdy guard named Morrt stepped into the King’s chambers. He appeared somewhat nervous but also resolute in his posture as he awaited the King’s orders. The Captain was dismissed, and the King told Morrt what he wanted. Referring to Tesh, he started with “She looks like the Princess, but it’s not her.” Morrt was to take Tesh away under a cloak and hide her in a remote chamber within the castle until she could be taken to the dragon’s den.

Sesbeth awoke the next morning feeling apprehensive. Something was wrong. She couldn’t say what was wrong, but she felt strangely compelled to go to the tallest tower in the castle, and the tower chamber where prisoners were sometimes kept. There, she met Morrt. She urged him to tell her what was going on. At first he resisted, but eventually the Princess’ beauty and gentle nature defeated his fear of the Captain and King, and he told her what he knew.

Not knowing anything about the magical aspects of how Tesh was created or of her hidden nature, Sesbeth was horrified that this lookalike girl would be sacrificed in her place. She quickly decided what she must do.

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That afternoon, Morrt rode out. On the horse beside him rode a cloaked figure. The King watched from his window high above the courtyard and gate, finally turning away when they left his view.

Two days passed, including the expected time of the dragon’s next village attack, but no attack came. Indeed, the King’s scouts reported that it appeared the dragon had left the kingdom! Receiving the news, the King rushed through the castle until he found his daughter, eager to celebrate her survival and the success of his scheme.

As he approached Sesbeth, however, he noticed her expression, an odd sort of grim, wide smile. Then she threw her head back and laughed, a loud, guttural cackle. The King immediately knew something was wrong. An instant later, he realized what had happened – the girl who stood before him was not Sesbeth, but rather the wizard’s creation, Tesh. His compassionate daughter must have figured out what was happening and sacrificed herself instead. In his rage and grief, the King drew the jewel encrusted dagger he always wore from the sheath at his belt, and fiercely plunged it deep into Tesh’s chest. Only then did he remember the terrible spell, and his mighty cry was quickly silenced as he and Tesh each disintegrated into twin piles of ashes.

This is a guest post from Barb Moody, who moved to Alaska last year with her husband and three of their four kids. (Their oldest is continuing his college experience in Illinois.) The photo is two of their sons, taken in October 2010.

The learning curve for the Moody’s has been a vertical line since moving to Fairbanks, AK last October. Change is too small of a word to describe what we’ve seen, learned, tasted, felt, smelled, and embraced. Here are a few of the new things in our lives:

A Dry Cold really isn’t bad. Fairbanks is dry, much like Denver, Colorado. When the thermometer dipped below zero (f), which is most of the winter and a few weeks into Spring, we were amazed how “warm” (okay, relatively) it felt. Late fall, temperatures hovers around 0-25. Come December, -20 is the norm. With the occasional warm spell (above zero) we are putting away the coats and just wearing the fleeces. Your body adjusts. Quickly. Now I can’t say the same for other parts of Alaska. Anchorage is on the coast and their cold is icy cold.

Alaskans are crazy for hunting, fishing, skiing, mushing, biking, snow-machining and dogs – mostly out of necessity. Hunting, fishing and gardening are a must because food is so darn expensive. A gallon of milk in Barrow is $11.50! The outdoor activities are a must so you survive the winter – cold and darkness can get you down if you don’t get your endorphins moving.

Alaskans are tough and self-sufficient. I’ll close with a story a gal told me about her first few months up here. She was living in a dry cabin (no plumbing, but heated). She tended bar and after closing she planned to bunk in the bar because she forgot to get heating oil. She mentioned this to some bar patrons. She went home the next day and found her cabin warm and oil in her tank. That night she thanked the regulars, knowing it was their kindness which came to her rescue. They hemmed and hawed yet explained, “If someone’s in need you help, someone will be there because next time it may be you that needs a hand. Always be ready to pay it forward.” But don’t take it for advantage. Alaskans are quick to say, “If you can’t take it, you can leave.” That’s the Alaskan way.