28 April 2006

Weekend Update

Reading: The Art of Being and The Happiest Toddler on the Block. (According to the latter, Katrina's personality falls into the "spirited" category...what a shocker. Supposedly only ten percent of kids are "spirited.")

Watched: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe DVD. We also saw it in the theater over Christmas.

(Further) Proof I Am a Geek: I'm watching a movie that includes talking animals, a magical land accessed through a coat closet, and a witch that causes winter to last 100 years. And I think: "Look at all that sword-fighting, and you don't see a drop of blood. That's just not realistic!"

Petty Annoyance: Potatoes that look good until after you peel them. If they have bad spots, I want to know before I go to the effort of peeling them!

Looking for: Glitter. For a craft I'll be doing with the kids for "Children's Church" on Sunday. Have I mentioned I'm craft-impaired? It apparently includes actually finding the ingredients. The craft store on base is closed on Fridays. I'll have to go tomorrow.

Grateful for: Beautiful spring days, airplanes, houseguests, Crock-Pots, the cancellation of Jon's 6-7 pm conference call tonight.

Katrina Quote of the Week: "I used to love Uncle Bain. Then he got married to Aunt Wendy." Interpret it however you wish.

19 April 2006

Jet Lag


Our bodies hold on to the past. Flying west, we lengthen our day, a step ahead of the sun. We're tired, but still wake early, because our body has not been fooled. It knows that the day is already well begun in the place we just left.

Flying east, we overtake the sunrise, changing night into day. Tired is such a pallid word. Now sleep seduces, a dark lover that swoops in without warning if we sit still too long. We try to fight him off, but our own bodies betray us. They cling to the night, no matter how bright the day. We struggle to shed our dreams, squint through the fuzzy darkness that blankets us even at noon on a sunny spring day. Life takes on a sense of unreality; daytime is something to survive until the comforting darkness lets us finally surrender to sleep.

Our bodies cling to the past. They don't appreciate the modern "convenience" of air travel. They know we are not made to race the sun.