Secretarial Sector

Today I joined the ranks of Hopewellites who work/have worked for J & J Farming. Invoices, container (that would be ship containers, not Tupperware) information papers, typing, copying, Quickbooks and MSWord. Mostly pretty straightforward, so I don't feel helplessly lost as I thought I might.

I think the job will prove a welcome change to studying once school starts — and I'm hoping it will increase my time management skills. If it doesn't... I'll have to quit the job, and I don't want to do that.

The North Santiam

My friend Abigail Spinks (21 years old, purchased a house as a minor, ran her own school for a couple of years, published "Dear Princess" magazine for more than 3 years, currently has two foster children) invited me to go inner tubing on the North Santiam River, if she happened to go again this summer.
"That sounds like a lot of fun," I conceded.

And therefore she called me on Friday to finalize plans for a Saturday inner tubing expedition.

I showed up characteristically late and after lunch we set off from Greens Bridge (east of Jefferson, OR) around 3 pm. There were two 13 yr old girls and a 9 yr old boy in addition to Abby and myself. I was rather trepidacious at first, and would be lying to say I was completely at ease near the end of the 7 mile, 4+ hour trip. We had a couple mishaps — one girl got her foot tangled in the rope that held the inner tubes together (thankfully the water was shallow there). We failed to navigate away from the bank on one certain occasion and ended up sweeping rapidly under a bunch of branches — my veiling almost departed from my head, and two persons fell off their tubes. We got stuck in a whirlpool — who knows how long we would have kept going around in circles if we hadn't waded away. Two tubes got snagged on a log in a fast-moving section and I thought I might be swept under water.
The best advice for such a trip is to keep one's head about them.
Over all I think I shivered more from cold than fright and the rapids were fun (eventually). We got to see a snake, I got to swim a bit, and Abby and I sang "How Great Thou Art" as we floated along the last leg of the journey. I'm glad I went.

Steer on the Loose!

"I think it'll be good this evening." — cit. yesterday's post.

Well, it was. More than good — it was exciting, crazy and even stressful at times. Let me tell you about it.

I pulled into the D's lane at 6 pm and was met by their youngest daugher Keslie.
"Mom's out pressure-washing..." [and, eventually] "...the boys bought a cow today."
"Like a milking cow?"
"No, it's a steer. It's going to be their project."

In the absence of her other family members, Keslie showed me around the house. It was absolutely trashed before they began work on it — it had been vandalized (complete with graffiti) and there were numerous dead birds laying around. There was a pile of pellets in the living room, a gaping pipe hole in the wall — the only remnants of a pellet stove that was stolen from the house. The kitchen faucet spurted water from its base. They are receiving a year's free rent for fixing the place.

Keslie was showing me pictures on their computer when Rhonda came into the house. I asked her what she was pressure washing.
"The shed where the boys are going to keep their cow. Do you think we need to sanitize it since it had pigs in it before?"
I didn't think so.
Keslie was showing me their family's golden retriever puppies when the male members of her family arrived in a white truck pulling a small trailer.
"Do you want to go see the cow?"
Of course I did, so we watched them unload the beast into the shed.
Aaron, the 13 yr old, to me: "You can look at the cow and tell me if it's healthy."
"...you can check for sores to see if it has foot and mouth disease [trying to recall cow things from my studies]... but you live in the US so that shouldn't be an issue."
"I don't even know what that is" -- Aaron about FMD.
So I gave a mini lecture to my somewhat uncaptive audience.

Keslie and I were gazing at the steer through openings in the shed's eastern side (there was sort of a half wall there). It looked healthy enough to me — a little on the thin side, but nothing else noticeable.
Keslie to her dad Ted: "Are you going to take the ear tags off?"
Ted attempted to approach the animal. The steer eyed him warily, head lowered. Shortly, Ted was too close for the critter's comfort and the steer headed in the opposite direction -- toward the wall where Keslie and I were standing! He attempted to jump through one of the openings, got stuck, loosed himself in a jiffy, and was free. Free in the wide expanse of the D's property, free to roam where he might. To the north were Hwy 34 and cars. To the south were acres of newly raked/planted dirt. He headed for The Field.
I ran out there, circled around him, and discouraged his further southern progress. Keslie, Aaron, Josiah (their other boy, 11 years) and Rhonda eventually joined the effort.
"Are you having fun Claire?" asks Keslie.
"Oh yeah." I really was. She or Aaron asked me the same thing a little later. It was still true.
So we had 'im marginally contained, but how to get him back to the shed?
"We need some grain and a rope," I commented to the others. I don't really know what would have happened if I had gotten the rope on the steer. It might not have been very pretty (although the steer really wasn't an evil beast) -- but it was a thought.
The grain and rope didn't show up for a while. We got the steer back to the yard, spent some significant time trying to keep it from going on the highway, trying to get it into a machine shed, trying to entice it with feed...
Once we got it corralled with some largely unsupported fencing. Rhonda and I were holding the fencing up on the south side, the steer came over, sniffed it and ploughed over. I'll have to admit I didn't do my part keeping the fence tight -- I didn't think we could hold it in, anyway, and I guess I didn't want the steer excited by having to really push its way through.

After a time the beast took off west toward the Calapooia River, heading out over that part of the Field and eventually reaching the Underbrush, the Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and the Pine Tree Farm. We were messing around in that general vicinity when Keslie drew my attention to a police car. As we found out later, Rhonda had called the fire station to see if their volunteers could come give us a hand and the policeman came out instead. I figured he might just shoot the animal and get it over with -- it was a pretty big risk having it loose so close to the highway. I worried slightly that he might aim for something white and get my headcovering instead.
Well, the police fellow didn't stick around very long, but a couple other fellows came to give us a hand (Scott Swartzentruber and his brother Ben). Ben headed throught the Underbrush and possibly the Spiderweb Forest (which kindly endowed me with its webbing) with us. We came across a small cabin with a stack of wood -- "I hope there's not some guy living there who'd come out and shoot me for trespassing. I have good reason to be here, really..."
At some point I was on the edge of a Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and Scott was in the Lowlands with the calf, all by himself.
"Get down on the other side!" he yelled. And there I was, looking at this Very Dense patch of Very Tall weeds. I couldn't see the ground I'd have to step on if I did plow straight through.
"I don't know how to get down there!" said I. But there was a will and there was a way through the dense patch, and I found myself in the Lowlands.
The steer headed east, and I thought Scott said something about getting on the other side of a mini forest. "Um, it's really dense, and I don't know if I can get through." I headed up the rise toward the dense mini forest. It was navigable -- though I sported a lengthy tear in my dress by the time I reached the other side. (Torn dresses aside, plowing through underbrush and forests really is fun. It's a little bit reminiscent of playing Capture the Flag in our West Salem forest back in the good olds.)
Following the mini forest, there were more Lowlands, and then a hill that headed up toward the highway. It might have been then, might have been later on that the steer got dangerously close to the top of that hill and I yelled "You guys need to keep the cow from getting on the road!!!" If they had asked me if I was having fun then... well, I'd've had to say "No." Too much stress with real potential for disaster. It seemed like the cause was a goner -- but I guess the steer really didn't want to go on the highway, and it didn't. Whew!

We got the beast close to the shed, and closed in on it. But it broke away and ran west again. "It's heading out there and there needs to be someone between it and the road." So I started running, too, sort of parallel to the cow on the north side.
"Claire, stop running!!"
I guess it was sort of dumb -- I was just exciting the cow further, making it run farther. But I didn't want it going way far away again.
More floundering around in the brush -- and maybe that was the time the cow got really close to the road.
We got the cow back in the field, and closed in, forcing it toward the shed.
Claire, to Keslie and Josiah: "I think we need to just shoot it. We're not going to get it in. Maybe call animal control and see if they can tranquilize it." And there I was, being one of those awful pessimistic adults that steal hope from children. Ugh.

Hey, well, I was proven wrong. They enclosed it with fencing, and it walked inside the building with little ado. Bravo!

"Claire, is our cow healthy?" asked Aaron.
"Um, yeah, I'd have to say so," I stated with a laugh.
It was about 8:30. We had been chasing the steer for 1.5 to 2 hours.

"So, Claire, what was the most fun part of the evening?" Aaron asked after supper.

"Chasing the cow."

You betcha.

Later Than Ever

I went to Tangent Mennonite for prayer meeting last evening. Here's how it went.

I expect their service to start at 8 pm. I'm running late and I tell myself that I'll go in if I'm no later than 8:05. I get there and decide to wait for another car to pull in — I am fearful that the service starts at 7:30 instead of 8. No other car pulls in, but Rhonda D comes out of the building and gives me the necessary information. The service started at 7:30, they were already done with prayer — but she told me to go in anyway. "No one will see you. We're working on boldness here." Um, okay — so I go in and slide into place on a chair by the back pew. The men were discussing the Old Testament cities of refuge.

After the service, I talked to some friendly people and Rhonda invited me to their place for supper this evening. So I was rewarded for walking into the service 40 minutes late — he-he. :) I think it'll be good this evening.

Let Us Reason Together

I think this will be the last post about the book "Truth Decay," so you can all sigh with relief.

I have been generally positive in my references to that book — but that doesn't mean I agree with its entire content. For instance, chapter 9 ("Race, Gender & Postmodernism") contains some faulty material. I believe that males and females are equal before God in terms of salvation. However, I also believe God has assigned different roles for men and women in the church. It would seem book author Groothuis has ignored key Bible passages as he attempts to support a more complete egalitarian viewpoint.

In reference to Genesis 3:16 (which states that man will "rule over" the woman) he mentions that this is not a moral command but rather a result of sin. He does not balance that view with 1 Timothy 2:11-14, where Paul states that women should not speak in the church because Adam was formed before Eve and because the woman was deceived by the serpent. Paul does not seem to base the application of those facts to the church on anything cultural. He doesn't say "well, you guys just need to live with this unfortunate cultural result of Eve's sin — this cultural thing that has been handed down through the centuries. It is incumbent on you to not rock the boat and be different." (Christians really had no problem rocking the boat when important matters were at stake.)
In addition, Groothuis does not address the reality that priests in the Old Testament were always male, nor the fact that Paul refers to bishops as male. I don't think that was just cultural. God has a certain role in mind for women, and serving in the temple/being bishops of churches did not/does not fit that role.

This paragraph really made me squawk. My squawking in brackets.
"Many also assert that egalitarians relativize biblical passages about the submission of women by making them "merely cultural"... Hermeneutically, all Christians must fathom how ancient commands obtain today. Paul said to greet one another with "a holy kiss," [um, I do that] that women should wear veils in church [where's the correct interpretation of Scripture here? how about wearing a veil every time a woman prays?] and that slaves should submit to their masters [well, that would hold 100% today if I was a slave and had a master]. Christians today understand the cultural context of these questions, without rejecting them as uninspired [yeah, that's right. We understand the cultural context and we realize that the commands fit today just as they did in the past.]. The operative question in understanding such texts is, "What is the principle behind the commands and how do we obey it today?"" [We OBEY them, that's what we do.]
Anyway...
Overall, I'd still say the book is worth reading — you just have to analyze it carefully.

What About Fairs?

On Saturday Dad and I took our bikes to Champoeg State Heritage Area, which contains some nice paved bike paths. We set off and had travelled perhaps a mile when there was a delightful "bang" (it was quite the noise) and one of Dad's tires went flat. So we got to walk our bikes back and head home. Perhaps it was just as well, because we were supposed to meet Mom at 4:30 at the Clackamas County Fair.

Having experienced the Fair for a while on Saturday, I am wrestling with the idea that such should generally not be attended by Christians. There are certainly fairly innocuous aspects to the occasion — educational posters and food in the 4H building, cows and pigs, the Ewe Lead (which was sort of humorous because sheep apparently don't fancy the concept of being dressed up and led around an arena), the historical craft demonstrations, and just plain being with one's family members.
However, there were certain aspects we did not patronize (carnival rides and games, a country singer) and certain which we did observe but perhaps should not have. With the latter I am referring to various shows (rope tricks, juggling, a couple fully dressed but nonetheless dancing black fellows). I don't think rope tricks and juggling are wrong in and of themselves — but perhaps the general show business doesn't do much for the furthering of God's kingdom and therefore should be shied away from. Maybe it's a matter of priorities and the amount of emphasis put on something — it's okay to juggle bean bags and jump in and out of a lasso for the benefit of your family but perhaps it would not be wise to do them professionally. If it is unwise for Christians to take on certain vocations, I have no business being entertained by them. I'll have to give it some more thought. As for the tap dancing black fellows — there's a certain beauty to the art form, a certain evoked amazement at their abilities — and I don't think it has to be regarded as a sensual thing. But again it is a questionable vocation...

The innocuous aspects to fairs are generally side attractions — most people aren't gonna pay $7 to look at a few pigs and craftsmen. So maybe there's not much point in going to a fair except to bond with relations.

What do you think?

I Will Be With You

There's this song that goes:
"From a distance, the earth looks blue and green and the snow-capped mountains white... From a distance, you look like my friend, even though we are at war... God is watching us, from a distance." (It's on the Erich Kunzel CD "Amen! A Gospel Celebration," part of which I would recommend and part of which I would not.)
It expresses some good points — the stuff "we" fight about is not important in the long run. Get out of your own little rut in life and take a look at the broader scheme, at that which really matters. The overall message of peace is good... and yet the song bothers me on a couple points. It could just be me, unable to read between the lines, unable to mesh with the thoughts of the songwriter... But it bothers me that she places God at a distance.
If I seemingly over-think the song, then it makes sense — maybe the writer was mixing two meanings of the phrase "from a distance." With reference to the snow-capped mountains, she is referring to physical distance. With reference to God watching us and to a time when all are friends, she is referring to chronological distance. I could buy that — it could refer to the new earth — but I doubt that's what was intended (please, correct me if I am off my rocker).
If that interpretation is not correct, then the song leaves me confused as to its meaning. It implies that God is watching us from a distance and therefore doesn't understand why we make such an upheaval of our lives. Therefore, maybe the songwriter thinks we should all just clean up our acts because what we do doesn't make sense to God...
But the reality is that God is not watching from a distance — He is here right now and he understands what's going on in the world. His view of war is different from carnal man's and it is not His ideal, but he also realizes why war is engaged in. He sees the root issues that can only be solved by His saving grace — and maybe that is the root of why the song bothers me. It speaks vaguely about strife not making sense, but it doesn't really point to a solution. Maybe I am supposed to infer from it a solution, but how does the song writer know my solution will really be what she was trying to imply?

I'd be interested to know the thoughts of those more informed about music interpretation.

Mein Bruder Matt

My brother likes to do neat things — like spelunking in West Virginia caves with streams going through them and hiking to fabulous places. In praise of his good taste (or just because I thought the pictures were neat, which is sort of saying the same thing)...

This looks like something from a fantasy.

Matt and his friend Robin Soukup following a caving expedition.

Matt on Hanging Rock.
Descending into Fletcher's Cave.
The sadness of it all is that I did not get to go. :( That whole "brother in Pennsylvania" issue — but the sister will be in Pennsylvania in a month and that will be good.

Another Job?

The shower was good. Maybe the best part was the advice given by two married ladies about pleasing one's husband. And there was one particularly funny tongue-in-cheek gift — a small grater with the note attached: "Lindsay [Bertha's hubby-to-be] may be great, but this is a little grater."

***
It's funny (or not — maybe it proves my laziness) how most of my jobs have basically fallen into my lap. I haven't gone through any grueling application processes to get them — I've found them by knowing people who know the employers, by being asked out of the blue, or by submitting a little application for a basically shoe-in job (i.e. the last two research jobs). Yesterday evening JK (wife of the proprietor of J & J Truck and Tire in Halsey — they go to my church) asked if I'd be interested in filling part of Bertha's job when she quits. It'd be a day or two a week, consisting of payroll stuff and computer work. It's mighty tempting, although I need to give it a lot of thought. It's hard to know how gruelling this fall's school schedule will be, and I already have ~6-6.5 hours of workstudy/week (which almost doesn't count since I can study on that job). I think I could make it work (so long as the hours aren't more than 8-10) and it would probably be really good for me — make me apply myself under a more hectic schedule. But I don't want my grades to go down the drain, either...

The Principle Thing

It's been great having RW's relatives around -- they preach good sermons. Last night it was his brother Byron Wolfer, who gave the first sermon in a three sermon series about wisdom. He used Proverbs 2:1-5 as his text, and basically expounded on how we should go about getting wisdom. We ought to love wisdom more than gold. Deep down I think I do... but my life doesn't reflect it well. Wisdom is virtually at my fingertips -- you'd think I'd tap into the Source more. I need to work on that.
If we receive wisdom, we should share it so others can benefit from it. Actually, maybe the degree to which I share God's wisdom is a test of true love for other people (do I really care about their eternal destiny and present blessing?), God (do I care about the things that concern him?), and his wisdom (if I value it I will be excited to share it with others).

Critters Galore

I went to feed the draft horse Saturday morning -- stuck my hand in the feed can, pulled out the measuring cup, and felt something furry. I exclaimed and quickly released my hold on the cup. Sadly, didn't manage to kill the mouse. (For those of you who don't live in Oregon, there has been quite a mouse plague this summer -- they've been wreaking havoc on the grass seed harvest, making holes in lawns, etc.)

Sunday morning between 1 and 2 am I was driving along 205 to go pick up my dad at the Portland Airport. I was sitting there, probably singing along with a CD, when this black and white creature loomed in the near distance. I literally screamed (little need to be inhibited in the middle of the night with no one to observe) and swerved. I more or less expected to hit the skunk, but thankfully the swerve did the job and I went on my merry way.

I was sitting at the airport waiting (turned out the plane was an hour later than the 2.5 hour lateness I had expected (i.e. it was 3.5 hours late over all)), when some guy went sprinting along the side walk outside. He entered the baggage claim area a ways down, and was observed by two jolly security guards to jump on one of the baggage conveyor belts. They asked him what he was doing, and he informed them he was getting exercise. One jolly guard stated that those conveyor belts are for items weighing 50 pounds with a sticker on them. The guy went on his way.
I was sitting there smirking.
One of the guards looked over at me, asked "Is he with you?" I understood after he'd said it the second time -- "No, he's not." The jolly guards went on their way.

This evening the Hopewell girls are putting on a bridal shower for Bertha Kaufman. We thought we'd hold it in the Turners' tub...

Anyway, a bunch of girls are coming over to my place in less than an hour to put food together, so I'd better go buy the stuff.

Just for Fun

Resumé for Claire Varney

Purpose: obtain employment at a place of food service.

Education: B.S. Biology (George Fox University)
D.V.M. (in progress at Oregon State University)
Related Job Experience: 4.5 summers of biological research

Because of the following, I believe I would suit your needs exquisitely as both a waitress, a cook and a manager of fine cheese production.

Balance styrofoam ice boxes on one hand.
Weigh substances on analytical balance -- I will introduce a new standard of precision to your establishment.
Follow recipes for producing bacterial food supplies.
Possess a working knowledge of bacterial growth; including experience with Escherichia coli and Listeria monocytogenes, two food-borne pathogens. This will be of great service to your attempts to stay out of the Oregon public health lime-light. Being a firm believer in the importance of log phase bacterial growth for the production of fine cheeses, I will seek to impart my knowledge of bacterial growth curves to your cheesemakers. Furthermore, while I recognize key differences between humans and bacteria, I am assured they are fed according to the same basic principles and would seek to implement such wisdom as I labor.

I am unmatched in my qualifications and firmly believe you will come to agree within a short time of my commencement on the job. If you have any doubts, please feel free to contact the following references. Thank you for your time. I look forward to an interview in the near future.
Sincerely Yours,
Miss Claire Elizabeth Varney

References:
1. Tobias R. Shigella
2. Malchus M. Vibrio
3. Aureus L. Noro

Diet of Glue and Paper

Helping at the B-ville SBS has helped me maintain my sanity -- that's what I said yesterday, and that evening was no exception.
Even though, or actually partly because, the class was a bit of a circus. I told Miss Amy Smucker (teacher of the first grade class I was "helping" in) that the class probably would have gone better if I had been absent. I think it's true, too, with regard to the worst problem child. I was sitting next to her, and it took me a while to get my sternness up to snuff. (I am learning that a smiling face has little desirable effect on misbehaving children.) In the mean time, she had great fun testing me and not doing as I said.

Child is scraping wax off a crayon and onto the carpet.
"Sydney, don't do that."
"But it's fun."
"I know it's fun, but you need to stop." (Some attempt is made by the author to halt the production of wax scrapings.)
"I'll do it over my dress."
I thought it would be unwise to physically restrain the child to remove the crayon -- you know, lawsuits and all that. I sat there in mild despair, and then Miss Amy arrived, the child placed the crayon back on the table, sat up nice and straight, and tried to look nonchalant. Hmmm, Amy's got that authority I lack.

On another occasion, the child is in possession of a purple glue stick. She takes small bites out of the sticky purpleness, and grins at me. The goo is stuck between her teeth.
"Sydney, don't do that. That's disgusting." She fails to obey, and takes another bite of glue. The stick is removed by one of the teachers.

During snack time, the child stuffed an entire napkin into her mouth. Later, she took a bite out of a paper circle. Strangely, she actually listened to me on that occasion when I implied that I would take the circle if she continued. And she obeyed my later command when she seemed ready to start eating blue glue. The straight and strict face works wonders -- or maybe Amy had taught her that evil does not go unnoticed.

Funny thing about that child, she's a bad actor, but really pretty innocent deep inside. She didn't hate Amy or I, and didn't hold my reprimanding against me. I asked her if she had any pets, and she proceeded to give me a lengthy response... Maybe what she really needs is positive attention.

***
Sometimes children can be so cluelessly amusing. I.e.:
Amy: What were the gifts the wise men brought the baby Jesus?
Anna: "Gold.... and frankenstein..." Her face was completely serious, she was so sincere. But, oh my goodness! I wonder what pictures crossed her mind when she said that.

You can read an exquisite recount of last night over at Amy's website.

Thusly I Fail

There was something wrong with me yesterday (whether that state was unique to yesterday I will leave to discussion). Let me illustrate.

Dropped a test tube of bacteria (because I was only holding onto the lid) — it broke on the floor.

Dropped/somehow facilitated-in-falling a microcentrifuge tube of bacteria — it got on my sock and shoe.

Absentmindedly poured 2/5 of a polymerase chain reaction mix on my dress while I was transferring it to separate tubes.

Put the thermocycler (the machine for doing PCRs) on 'pause' and forgot to take it off 'pause' — it sat at 95˚C all night.

Centrifuged some bacteria at 13,000 rpm instead of 6,000.

Did not process the Summer Bible School teacher's (whom I was in theory helping) instructions on at least one occasion.


I think I should start taking lunch to work...


But there is a silver lining to the cloud of Yesterday:

The bacteria were avirulent, so the spills were not major reportable incidents.

The PCRs might still work — it'll just take me longer to find out.

The centrifuged bacteria didn't die.

The SBS teacher was very gracious.


Unrelated to the mishaps, it's fun having D&B Smucker's children around. Yesterday I conversed with their eldest about tsunamis, etc, and he (at 12 years old) knew more than I did. And Summer Bible School at Brownsville Mennonite is in general keeping me sane this week.

Stimulus-Response?

Let me lead off on one of my tangents. Actually, this is something I'm not really sure about — if any of you have ideas, let me know... But I have heard the opinion that men are basically the same as animals in the way they make decisions. According to said opinion, both humans and animals process the inputs into their brains until they reach the (to them) most logical answer. Given a certain exact set of inputs, there is no possibility that a human could make two different choices. Turn the clock back, and there is no way I could have done anything different than attend vet school, do research this summer, or go to the Orval Smucker reunion. Such a philosophy completely removes free choice from the equation and makes me unresponsible for any sins I commit. I don't agree with it .

Maybe humans and animals are much the same with regard to amoral decisions. As long as a human is not insane, he will make the choice that makes the most sense on such occasions. If he is alone on a housetop (um, can you tell I use the King James Version of the Bible? that is honestly the word that came to mind instead of "roof") and flood waters are rising about him, he will naturally grab onto a boat that chances to float by. He possesses the inputs: "I can drown in water," "boats can float" and "death is undesirable." While animals do not process such thoughts with language (to my knowledge), they know similar truths and will go for the boat. In such matters, common sense tends to rule in both men and animals. Any two logical men will do the same thing as each other and as any logical animal.

Now, let's consider a definitely moral decision.

Let's say the man is a news reporter in the Middle East, a flood comes along, and he hies for the nearest building. He's sitting on the roof and he hears sounds from inside — there's a person in there. He realizes it would be morally right to try to save the person, but he also realizes there is little time before the flood waters have risen to the top of the house. He has a wife and children at home and important footage in his camera case. There are lots of variables to the issue (which he realizes because he is more intelligent than animals). Will the man make his choice based on common sense alone, as in the uncomplicated scenario when the house is empty? Is there only one logical way to weight the applicable issues and sort them out? I don't think so, and I believe this is where free choice plays a definite role. Aspects of situations do not come to us thoroughly preweighted. There is somehow an immaterial part to our minds that allows us to choose to act contrary to the summation of stimuli.
To a certain extent, a man's training will make him more or less likely to tend to save the person. But let's say he recognizes the man's voice for, say, bin Laden. Now, that introduces an extremely moral decision. Past influences may try to sway the man one way, but it is ultimately up to him whether he will show the love of God and save the fellow, or whether he will love himself most and remain physically safe.

Eyes on God

We were too intent on the service for our minds to wander to any laughing matter. Sunday, Tim Zook (brother-in-law to Hopewell's minister RW) from Minnesota preached at church. A few points from the sermon (which I might be getting mixed up with my own pre-sermon train of thoughts):

The choices I make are directly affected by my focus. For my life to pan out well, God must be the center of my vision. I will make mistakes in what I think — but that's what the brotherhood is here for, to set me straight when I stray.

The way we view and speak of things in life is very much based on personal choice. For example, 10 out of the "12 men [who] went to spy out Canaan" reported their findings with a focus on the "impossibility" of conquering the giants in the land. Caleb and Joshua focused on their ability to conquer through the Lord's help.

Friendly Occasion

Friend CS followed me home Friday afternoon and spent a large part of the weekend with me — kind of like having a sister, only better. (All right, how would I know? I guess I don't, but there are some types of sisters I would have to make a conscious effort to not be continually annoyed at.) Her cousin and my friend RS joined us Friday night and we had a grand time listening to stori(es) and sleeping under the stars. Our wise but rather obnoxious cat, Twiddle thought to join us on the lawn, but CS taught him a lesson he seemed to remember even the next morning when he came around but would not venture onto the grass. Sleeping outside is quite nice — and yet I bear on numerous of my appendages blemishes from the assaults of marauding arthropods. If I had ears in my arms, perhaps I would detect mosquitoes before they struck — but I am content without such specialization.
Saturday CS and I jetted around the south Portland metro area, browsing through a couple thrift shops in Gladstone and playing miniature golf in Wilsonville.
We went to Hopewell Sunday morning — quoth CS during the early part of the service, "I hope we can contain ourselves" — with reference to our distinct abilities to set each other laughing. Fortunately, we made it through.

What would we do without other Christians to encourage us? Survive, I guess, but it wouldn't be much fun.

Smucker Supper

The Orval Smucker family reunion was held yesterday evening in the Halsey city park. I'm no relation to the family, but I live in the house of one of Orval's sons and was told I should go.

Given the option, I had to decide what to do with it. It was sort of a lose-lose situation, looking at it pessimistically. If I chose to go, I could be regarded as presumptuous, as if I thought I belonged in the family or was such an important person that I could barge in on exclusive events. If I chose to stay away, those in the family who found out might think I didn't like being around them — not only would that be mean, it wouldn't be true because I really do enjoy the Orval Smucker family.
Thinking from a different angle, I would really gain nothing by sitting at home, whereas I could gain fellowship by attending the shibang.

Anyway, I decided to go (so if any Smuckers read this and think me evilly presumptuous, please forgive), and I engaged in some satisfying conversations and had a great time over all.

Car Yet Breatheth

So I went out to my car, put it in neutral, and rolled it back and forth. Ahh! it sounds like a rock or screw within the right front wheel. Noise disappears when mph is 20. Claire figures this is not a matter of life and death (as long as the potential screw was not the only one doing its former job). She is even willing to drive to Albany to get it looked at if need be.

But John and Phil's Subaru and Toyota save the day — in spite of their busy schedule, they put the car on a lift and remove... a rock from the wheel.

The delightful noise vanishes, leaving me quite happy with no plans to spend the night in the horse barn. Yippeee!

Oh, what could it be?!

I successfully navigated the ~25 miles to work this morning, and was almost parked in the student parking area behind my research building. As I swung into a parking spot, my car started making a delightful scraping noise. Took a look around, and couldn't see anything dragging on the asphalt in accordance with my initial suspicion. I still wasn't particularly worried — on occasion I may have more than my fair share of endorphins, which could keep me from experiencing the proper emotions for a scraping-noise-making car. Actually, I don't have any traumatic car break downs in my background, so maybe I don't know what I'm in for.
I took a looksie (forgive the vernacular — it was introduced to my vocabulary from the book "The Days of My Years" by Earl Smith, some guy who lived in Oregon in the olden days) under the hood and only noticed a cobweb/two and some straw.

Well, not being the Baritone, I don't really know what to think. My rather uneducated hunch is that there's something going on around the right front wheel (that's so vague it could be true!). And the noise occurs at possibly regular intervals when the car is moving, as if it's related to the turning of the wheels.
The Toyota dealer doesn't have time to look at it today, and I really don't want to be stuck in Corvallis overnight... so I think I will have a more extensive look myself.

Slipping into the Shell

I think I've been a little brain dead lately, at least when it comes to bloggable topics. Maybe I'm just being too selective.

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When (some) people are nice to me it makes me want to lower my profile instead of inviting me to a deeper relationship like it should. I'm not talking about my friends and other people I view on the same level as myself - but people higher up the totem pole than I, like professors. You'd think their friendliness would increase my desire to please them - and it probably does overall - but it also encourages me to crawl into my shell and maybe even avoid them. I don't know exactly why this is - maybe it's my shy side coming out, or my desire to not be the teacher's pet. Or maybe I don't want to have to maintain someone's good opinion of me. When you aren't noticed, you don't have to face the embarrassment of failing in another's eyes.
Deep down I really do enjoy connecting with people - but this more superficial issue kinda stands in the way sometimes.

Oh, and don't stop being nice to me just because of this - it's something I need to work through apart from outside human intervention.

Sublimation and the Sublime

How much dry ice would it take (once sublimed) to suffocate a living being in a close room? There's a little heap of it entering the gaseous phase in the lab sink, and it happened to engender such a morbid question - forgive me.

I recently got my fall class schedule (here at vet school, class schedules are planned for us the first ~3 years). We have Monday and Wednesday afternoons off, and no classes on Friday - it's just a little weird. It might suggest a lot of self-teaching. I think perhaps I should be reading medicine and anesthesia texts and volunteering at a vet clinic this summer to be prepared for classes. I am excited for this coming year - it holds the potential for some intense learning and integration of concepts, and I think it will be good.

The Weekend

More softball (Friday) - there were more of us and we weren't as weird as last time.

Fabric shopping by myself (Friday) and then with a couple Strubhars (Saturday). Really dark hunter green fabric is very hard to find - I went to four fabric stores in two days' time, and only found (probably) one piece of fabric that I would have purchased for a dress. Lo, it is 90" wide quilt backing! but I think it will do well. I need it for my server's dress for BK's wedding.

My youth group gave a singing program at church Sunday night. I think more practicing would have been beneficial... and I know I goofed in a number of places... but I always enjoy the opportunity to take part in those programs.