Darwin

As many of you know, my brother's name is Darwin. Having a brother with that name oftentimes causes confusion among my Christian friends. "Did your parents believe in evolution when they named him?" And they sound appalled and slightly intrigued when they ask me. No, they did not, and as my brother would say, "Wouldn't they have named me Charles, then?"

My dad's best friend and barrack-mate in Vietnam was a certain Private Darwin. One afternoon, they were driving their truck back to the base when Darwin shot down two Vietcong snipers in the trees. Their guns had been pointed at my dad. It was just a few weeks before they'd be going home.

Dad has a pretty sizable collection of pictures from his time overseas, and recently, Josh and I started transferring the slides to the computer. In one little box, we found a slide labeled "Darwin." Below is the only picture (that I'm aware of) of this wonderful man. At first I was disappointed that his face was blurred, but the more I looked at it, the more I loved it. I fear that if there was a definite face to this man, it would be hard to imagine him, to see him as a hero and not just a twenty-year-old boy far from home.

Literature Condo

Remember how I had far too many books and no place to keep them? Well, here it is, boys and girls, the new beauty that lives in our bedroom:

My parents helped me pick it up from the store last night. Thankfully, we got it inside before it started raining too hard. Isn't it lovely? Five feet of pure literature. Naturally, I proceeded to spend the rest of the evening organizing, paging through, and reorganizing all my books. And I couldn't believe that by the time I was done, I still had three books without a home! *sigh* Guess I don't have any more excuses to buy more. Until we have a house with a library, that is ;)

Once the books were all smiling at me from their alphabetical (by author) orderliness, I just stood there and stared at them, smiling uncontrollably. I love being able to see all their titles clearly, to be able to pull them out and look at them without a whole pile tumbling down. And I love advertising my literary taste. :) 

I couldn't wait for Josh to get home, because I wanted him to bounce around in excitement with me. But he didn't have the same intensity of emotion. Therefore, I had a dance party with myself.

Toy Story

I can't believe it's been eleven years since the first Toy Story movie came out! Back then, I was fascinated with the movie's premise. Even before it came out, I had an inkling that my Littlest Pet Shops and Pound Puppies led double lives, had more fun amongst themselves while I was at school, and Toy Story affirmed my suspicions. I remember setting up all my animals in their little toy homes, memorizing their positions, leaving the bedroom, and closing the door behind me. I waited a few minutes before bursting back inside, hoping to catch them off guard, sprawled somewhere I hadn't left them, or even see one still wiggling. But they were too good, too swift.

Later, I figured the closed door is what gave me away. I never closed my door when I left the room. They must've sensed something was up.

After many failed attempts to catch the toys in the act, I came to the conclusion that they would always be one step ahead of me. It made sense that they could read my mind, because after all, it was my mind that gave them names and homes and scenarios. Even today, I still like to believe that tucked deep in my closet and out of sight, my little animals have county fairs and school days, birthday parties and barbecues. Wouldn't that be a great world?

Owl City Revisited

Little else can be said about the beauty of Owl City's lyrics (see my previous post for more details). Here I've written out the words to my very favorite song of his, but like I've said before, you really have to hear it to get the full effect. His synthesized notes and sweet melodies make this love song that much more endearing. I've italicized my favorite lines, the ones that carry a lot of poetic weight and make me sigh in contentment.

Vanilla Twilight

The stars lean down to kiss you,

and I lie awake and miss you.

Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere.

Cause I’ll doze off safe and soundly,

but I’ll miss your arms around me.

I’d send a postcard to you, dear, cause I wish you were here.

I’ll watch the night turn light blue,

but it’s not the same without you,

because it takes two to whisper quietly.

The silence isn’t so bad, till I look at my hands and feel sad,

cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.

I’ll find repose in new ways, though I haven’t slept in two days,

cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone.

But drenched in vanilla twilight, I’ll sit on the front porch all night

waist deep in thought, because when I think of you

I don’t feel so alone.

As many times as I blink,

I’ll think of you

tonight.

When violet eyes get brighter and heavy wings grow lighter,

I’ll taste the sky and feel alive again.

And all to get the world that I knew, that I swear I won’t forget you.

Oh, if my voice could reach back through the past,

I’d whisper in your ear,

“Oh, darling, I wish you were here.”

Birds of Prey: Part Two

When Josh and I went to the Minnesota Zoo last week, I was struck with sadness. On exhibit was a bald eagle with a shattered wing. She would never fly again. And as such, she could not survive in the wild. On a rock next to her was a dead bird, the only way she could eat. It was such a pathetic sight. And it got me thinking, What kind of life is this? Are the zookeepers really showing compassion to her by feeding her and keeping her alive? Or is her confinement and pampering a slow kind of torture?

I admit, she was a beautiful creature and I greatly enjoyed seeing her up close. But I've found greater joy in watching an eagle eat carrion along the side of the road, dip and fall with the thermals, and dance with his mate through the air. All things she will never do again.

Josh did make an interesting point, though, because he too experiences a twang of sadness when he sees animals in captivity. It's good for us to see her up close like this, to learn about her and understand her. And it's especially good to teach children about her (and all animals), because they are the ones who will look after this earth once we're gone. And teaching them early and showing them the majesty of the creatures will hopefully instill in them a sense of wonder and a sense of duty.


I really love my husband. And I feel a little better about the plight of the eagle. Perhaps she is serving a greater purpose. I know I won't forget her!

Birds of Prey: Part One

One of my favorite things to see when I'm driving:

Hawks have always been high on my list of favorite animals because (1) they are majestic, (2) they have beautiful colorings, (3) they fly, and (4) they evoke visions of mountains and open skies. Seeing them along a busy street reminds me that all the world works together, we all belong and we all need to take care of each other. But it also reminds me of the potential hawk tragedies.

A few years ago, while I was visiting a nature center with my family, a man came in with a stiffening but still-warm red-tailed hawk. She had been hunting along the side of the road, swooped in front of the man's car. It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do! The man's face was helplessness and pain. The nature center workers consoled him with words like "Don't blame yourself" and "It's only natural." But their words were hollow. We could feel them ringing in the air. There was nothing natural about automobiles invading the hawk's territory and killing her. I wished there was something I could do.

Now that I think about it, I'm not sure why exactly I smile when I see a hawk sitting on a light post. Perhaps because at that moment, he's safe and proud. Perhaps because the mere fact that he's alive makes up for the death of his sister. Perhaps because his presence is a constant reminder that we are being watched, being judged, and being protected.

Today

What ever happened to living in the present? Our fast-paced society almost makes the endeavor impossible. Josh just told me that Apple will soon be doing their "Back to School" campaign. Before school is even let out for the summer. Can it get any more depressing than that?


We spend so much time looking forward to future things that we miss seeing things in the moment. I wish I wasn't guilty of this. I wish I could enjoy five course meals and spend two hours at lunch with friends like the French do. I wish I didn't carry a watch and did things as and when I felt like doing them. I wish I walked more places rather than flew past them on the freeway. I wish I could relax and think for long periods of time without having the impulse--or fear?--to do something or be somewhere else. I think I'd be a better writer. I know I'd be a better person, have richer experiences and deeper relationships. But is it too late to change? And how can it even be done?

Corrie the Corolla

Ah, yes. I'm finally starting to understand what people mean when they say that cars are expensive. I'm sure our car isn't more costly than most people's, it's just that all the money is due at the same time--insurance, car payment, new tabs, new tires and other maintenance stuff. Bleh. However, I do have to say that God has a great sense of humor. Here I am, spazzing about all the money we soon won't have, and I get a check in the mail that completely covers the cost of the tabs and gives us ten cents in the bank.

God makes me smile :)

Target Field

On Thursday, Josh and I explored the new Twins stadium, and I must say, we have excellent choice when it comes to freezing rainy days. We sat way up at the top of the stadium on the third base line, and besides the railing that partially blocked our view, we had pretty good seats. Granted, we were barely watching the game, because the stadium was so cool! The parking ramp had this sculpture that changed shape and design in the wind and the HD scoreboard screen was mesmerizing! We would've taken some pictures, but Josh didn't want to get his new baby--I mean, camera--wet from the drizzle.

After the third inning, we decided to get ice cream (I know, makes perfect sense. But it's one of the only places that has twist cones!) and ran into some friends from school (we have a knack for doing that). Naturally, once we had the ice cream in our hands and stomachs, the wind picked up and my fingers turned white. No need to be alarmed about it. Everyone freaks out when they see it happen, but to me, it's just one of those annoyances that come along with being a very small person who has poor circulation to her extremities. So naturally, that called for a cup of hot chocolate, which, to my frozen fingers, felt like burning daggers. Not entirely enjoyable, but it brought the color back.

In the meantime, I overheard a worker mention that the main floor of the stadium had heat lamps. !!! Down the escalator we went to squeeze with the masses and feel like baked chicken.

You may be wondering how much of the game we actually saw, and you'd be right in assuming that it wasn't much. But I didn't care. The Twins lost anyway, and I had much more fun bumming around the stadium. Plus, by the time the end of the game came around, we had worked our way up to the railing and had a much better view of the field than when we started. So, the moral of the story? Buy cheap tickets but watch the game from anywhere. That's definitely not something you could do at the Dome.

I was sad, though, that we weren't sucked out of the stadium at the end. Guess I'll have to test out a Vikings game to have that experience again.