Here I Go...

Fastforward to Easter! Sorry I left you hanging at Christmas… Life has been surprisingly busy for someone without a job (thanks, Asheville economy…).

My life has exploded with Mamas to hang out with, babies to hold, placentas to encapsulate and so much more.

~23weeks 

30-something weeks with twins! (she is not actually in pain, she is just in the middle of telling me about her bebes!)

Placenta science!

fetal heart tones! for two babies!

Small talk at the Asheville Holistic Birth Collective

I’m looking forward to saving up for a blood pressure cuff, a stethoscope and a fetoscope! I’m creating a “to-one-day-own” book list that is only getting longer and longer… and I am in absolute awe that I am already about halfway through with my midwifery program. I wonder often about what this summer and fall will bring… Hillary and I have been talking about taking a break from communal living for a while (and for the first time ever as a couple…) so 2013 might bring a new living space for us here in Asheville. And in order for that to happen, I would need a job… and by job I mean a paying apprenticeship/assistantship. Hear that God Almighty/Universe? I’m ready. Bring it on.

Okay, so here’s the thing. I hate Christmas. I KNOW! I KNOW! What Christian can hate Christmas? I mean, if we can get all jazzed up for the day Jesus died, you’d think the unassisted birth of this awesome radical could get me, the future midwife, excited. Every year, I REALLY try to get excited about the holidays. It’s not fun being Scrooge! This year I even went out and picked some evergreen and holly branches and hung them in bunches around the house. I strung lights on our staircase and and planned holiday meals for weeks. I witnessed every advent candle being lit and forced myself to smile rather than roll my eyes when I listened to adults tell the children in our church that the cookies they made those prisoners brought them peace and hope and delight (know what would be a better Christmas present? LIBERATION!). I tried to center myself and prepare my heart and all that stuff you’re supposed to do during advent. Still, there’s nothing like a tacky jazzed-up rendition of commercialized Christmas carols to get my blood boiling.

Here’s the other thing, my family was never HUGE on Christmas. There was no feast, no giant family get-togethers. No drunken uncles or in law debates. No football wars or any of that stuff. I actually really liked my family’s Christmas traditions growing up. When we put of the tree, we drank white russians. Christmas Eve was Chinese food and A Christmas Story taped from TBS with old clips of M&M and 7-up commercials (bottle caps with sunglasses and santa caps anyone?). Christmas day we opened presents and ate Pilsbury biscuits. The last Christmas I spent at home was in 2006. Here is what that looked like:

Dad getting goofy with the tree

Spontaneous father-daughter(s) dance parties

(note white russian in that pint glass)

I moved to Atlanta when I was 19 years old and found myself 1086 miles away from my immediate family for every holiday, which never seemed like that big of a deal… until Christmas day would come around and every one I knew had somewhere to be… and I didn’t. Last year was the first year since 2006 that I spent Christmas with other people. Hillary and I spent Christmas with her father and his wife in Alabama (a big deal for other reasons). But this year is the first year I’ve spent Christmas in my home with my partner. This is the first year that we had the opportunity to create traditions for OUR family (of two) and I realized that that is actually a lot of pressure. Christmas time dredges up a lot of feelings about childhood, family dynamics and traditions. We yearn for the joy and and anticipation that laced the Christmas season when we were little, before we were old enough to have serious family conflicts. We want to be nostalgic, but that nostalgia is so often wrapped up in emotional trauma that is impossible to pick apart.

So, after the initial excitement of realizing that Hillary and I would get Christmas to ourselves this year, there was a little nagging anxiety. I think we pulled it off nicely, though. It was quiet, which was good. It was sweet and lazy and mostly focused on food. Food is hard for the two of us when it comes to the holidays. Hillary was raised in Alabama where vegetables necessarily mean “covered with cheese and cream-of-something soup”. I hate most cheese… and cream-of-anything soup and even though Hillary and I both reject the processed, unhealthy food culture in which our generation was generally raised, the holidays come around and she’s craving green bean casserole (Campbell’s style). There is no good Chinese food to speak of in the south (many people from the south will disagree with me, but it’s only because they have never been to New York or Boston), so my family’s tradition has to be abandoned. I still love white russians, but my digestive tract is no longer a fan of pasteurized, homogenized milk. Biscuits in a can might still stroke that guilty pleasure in us both, but we both prefer homemade baked goods to the scary scary preservatives that keep that store-bought dough fresh.

So here is what we did for Christmas Eve:

Garlic Chicken Stew with Rosemary Dumplings that I had prepared late that afternoon. The recipe calls for breasts, but we used thighs (cheaper!) and we traded peas for carrots and turnips.

 and we made a version of wassail  in lieu of the traditional white russians. There are about as many recipes for wassail as there are people who drink it and their bases range from beer to wine to champagne all the way to fruit juice. I like beer over fruity drinks any day, so we read several recipes and this is what we came up with:

Beer (brown, porter… something smooth and sweet. definitely not an IPA or pale ale. Hops are bitter and more bitter with cooking), cinnamon, ginger, apple and maple syrup (not pictured).

Slice half the apple, coarsely chop up about a tablespoon of ginger and select two handsome looking cinnamon sticks.

throw it all in a crock pot, pour one (only one!) of those big bottles of beer over it, pour in what looks like a reasonable amount of maple syrup to you and turn it on low. Then turn it on high because you’re getting impatient. Then turn it back to low because you realize that heating it too fast means less apple flavor. Then turn it back to high because you think maybe more heat will break down the apple better. Then turn it back to low because you think it’s getting too hot. Continue this back and forth until you decide to taste it… and realize that it tastes HORRIBLE. Like something you might find at the general store back in the 1800s (a tonic to restore VITALITY! Also, cures 27 common ailments!).

Slice up the other half of that apple and an orange. Add some more maple syrup. Turn it back to low and leave the room. Some residual anxiety is normal.

Eat your chicken stew and drink the beer that you didn’t waste turn into wassail.

Next time: (Christmas morning! Plus: what happened to that wassail?)

I think Gulliver likes it here

Now, meet our new backyard

(those ducks tell us what’s up)

(that is the view from the back porch and also our bathroom window! Do you SEE those mountains?!)

This morning was covered in thick frost, so I went out to take pictures while my sweet southerner boiled water to unfreeze the car door lock (DO NOT POUR IT ON THE FROZEN WINDSHIELD!!!). Atlanta’s 3-inch-blizzard taught her well last year, so maybe she will be prepared for winter in the mountains. We hope! Because my northern blood has definitely been diluted with sweet tea.

Also, Anne Frye has come!

along with some hand-picked-and-delivered grapefruit from Florida. I never ever want to stop looking at these books. Hillary says the purple one (Holistic Midwifery volume II) looks like a Hogwart’s spell book and has taken to calling out Rowling’s spells every time she passes it by. I mean, women are pretty much like magic, so I think it’s applicable.

We arrived in Asheville on Saturday afternoon to sun and a local beer from our new roommate. Gulliver explored the grounds and lusted after the ducks in the yard before discovering the giant, low, bay window that he can stare out for hours at a time.

We’ve been reveling in the joy of living in this city that we’ve visited so many times. We’ve been spending every available minute with our friend because we can’t quite seem to realize that we LIVE here now and that this is not just a weekend visit.

Gulliver has enjoyed many walks as we explore our new neighborhood and get our bones used to this weather.

Making house has been easier than anticipated, since we actually have very little and so much of the house is already furnished. Our bedroom already feels homey and I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of our kitchen stuffs when Hillary goes through Atlanta again in a few weeks.

So, without further ado: OUR NEW HOME! More photos to come…

We went to church on Sunday! We had heard of Circle of Mercy from several people and met some of their congregation at the SOA this year. Turns our, they congregate just half a mile from our new house! So, we got to walk to church on Sunday evening. I had completely forgotten that Sunday was the first Sunday of advent! So, we got to watch small people light the first candle and listen to them clumsily inform us as to the meaning of advent (duh… Christmas is 28 days away!).

I’m thinking a lot about what it means to arrive in a new place just in time for the start of advent. A time devoted to waiting, praying for patience and glorious expectation. This is such a rich, pregnant time of the year and Hillary and I, too, are in this period of rich anticipation. It has to mean something-right?

I’m thinking of this especially as Hillary and I are on the receiving end of so much pressure from family and friends to know EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE DOING AND EXACTLY WHERE IT IS GOING TO TAKE US AND EXACTLY WHEN THAT WILL HAPPEN. Whew! I think it is especially hard on my sweetheart, who often often leaves said individuals with the idea that she is following me blindly and without personal fulfillment while I doddle off and try to seduce women out of birthing in perfectly-safe-hospitals. (I wonder at what point family stops analyzing every step one takes in life and actually trusts that perhaps we’ve actually put a good deal of thought and consideration into our decisions. 50? 100? Do I have to wait until I no longer have any elder relatives? When my Dad took his current job over 20 years ago, did all of his relatives call him with serious but-where-will-this-really-take-you? doubts? I have a sneaking suspicion that I could become the president of the universe and I would still get wind of secret whispers questioning my drive and ability).

 In all seriousness, it is difficult to explain life-decisions that are most definitely off-the-beaten-path, especially those that are specifically, consciously and precisely contrary to the beaten path! I think I have a slightly easier time than Hillary does because homebirth midwifery has a growing place in popular culture (thanks, Ricki Lake), but my choices and path are difficult to explain because they do not include words like: masters, nursing, residency, degree etc.

(reel it on in, Kirsten. land the plane…)

 How does this connect to advent? Well, patience. Hillary and I are in very different places in our life and our education/”careers”/callings, but neither of us can possibly know where we are going to end up or how we are going to get there. Isn’t that the beauty of it? My sister reminded me that SHE has no idea where she will end up when she finishes college, and how many of my friends with expensive four year degrees are still steaming latte milk? How many other people do I know doing something completely rad that they did not go to school for (if they went to school at all)? So many people go through mid-life career changes, life changes, status changes. Countless people have lost jobs, lost homes and lost lives. Others have found joyful lives in unexpected places. How can I possibly be expected to know exactly where my life will take me?

It’s hard to remember that when I’m being asked to justify and defend my life choices to skeptics, but my duty is not to impress them. My duty is to pray for patience and clarity and follow the path set before me. I can wait expectantly and make the best choices I am able, but there is some sort of freedom (when I’m not utterly terrified) in knowing that I am not in control.

Advent is about awaiting the coming of Christ, the coming of our savior, our messiah. For the Jews, this meant heavy expectation of long-awaited liberation from oppression (well, it turns out that that Rome didn’t fall at the hand of a warrior and Christ wasn’t the messiah for the Jewish people, but that’s beside the point right now). Advent is the practice of patiently expecting liberation from Empire.

I hope advent will be a good time to let that knowledge sink into my bones, so that I can begin to rid myself of the desire for validation from Empire.

Whew! Whatta whirlwind. Albuquerque-Atlanta-Columbus-Dothan! Tonight is our last night in Dothan before heading back north. Just one overnight in Atlanta (to gather stuff and break up the ride) and then we will be IN ASHEVILLE (can we hear some triumphant music)? I would really prefer to be journey-oriented rather than goal-oriented in my life, but I can’t help but feel enormous relief about reaching Asheville! Sure, a lot of it is that I’m sick sick sick of traveling. I am absolutely a homebody and would almost always rather be home than out and about. I love visiting friends, but only as long as I have a place to come home to. Honestly, almost every time I set out on a trip (even the ones I am SUPER excited about and have TONS of fun on), I find myself counting down the hours until I’m home again. Okay, okay, you get the point: I miss having a home. SO I’m excited to have a real home again, a place to settle into, but I’m also excited about what Asheville means. Hillary and I have always wanted to live there, our friends are there, we’re back EAST… oh, and being for-real about becoming a midwife. Yeah, that.

Highlights from further adventures in the SE:

Birthday presents! Hillary got me two books about identifying wildflowers/edible plants in the SE. One of them has great pictures (future tattoos?). The necklace has a pendant of Saint Brigid who is a patron saint for midwives. AND she made me a lino-cut print of shepherds purse. She’s great.

SOA is as always (but smaller)

Got to see this awesome lady

Yeah, my grandma has purple hair. Pokeberry!

I can’t say enough just how grateful I am to have her as a real friend in my life. We definitely do not have a traditional relationship and I am so so glad. She is making it possible for me to participate in The Matrona program next year and I am so honored to get to involve her in my life like this.

Onto Dothan:

Reunited and it feels so good.

Yesterday, we held BABIES! Hillary’s mama’s friend had twins six weeks ago and that single mama needed a nap! So we selflessly gave up our day to hold these little friends… completely without personal gain… in no way enjoyable, of course… this is just pure, good, kind sacrifice. Right there.

And there.

Then we made a million of those. That was for-real selfless. We had to put them in the oven to hide them from hungry mouths (AKA Gulliver) and then I accidentally baked them when I pre-heated the oven for the bread to bake. Whoops…

Happy Thanksgiving.

Well, after a near 40 hours on the greyhound system, culminating in the last 5 hours, during which we were trapped on a bus that smelled like straight up urine. Everywhere. We got in at 3:10am.

But we’re HERE!!!

It feels so good to be back in the South East! The air smells so good and it seems like I had forgotten how much I love trees! While on the bus, it grew dark before we had left the desert, so when dawn came the new environment (in Arkansas) was this great surprise! Instead of rocky mountains, short brush, sand and open sky, we were surrounded by changing leaves, damp trees, and farms. My heart jumped in my chest and I felt like I was home. I loved the New Mexican landscape and I wondered if it would be hard to leave it behind and go back to strips of sky just visible through canopies of trees (or city buildings, as the case may be), but as soon as the sun rose in Arkansas, I knew it was the right decision. New Mexico was never really mine (well, I suppose as a white person, none of this land is “mine”) and I think I always knew that. The East Coast is home to me.

Anyway, our wonderful wonderful friends picked us up at the greyhound station and I got to sleep a few sweet hours. Then it was my birthday! And it was probably the best birthday I’ve had in a long long time. Amy took me out to Indian food for lunch and then we picked up Parker from daycare and took her to the playground. I expected her to remember me, sure, but it’s been a few months since she’s seen me and several months since we’ve spent a lot of time together. Well, when we walked into her daycare, she ran to her mom, saw me and stopped dead. This HUGE smile spread over her little face and she walked over to me with her arms wide open. She gave me this huge hug, resting her head on my shoulder, and pulling her face back every couple of minutes to look me in the eye and smile at me more. I was dying, it was so sweet.

I have about a trillion pictures and videos of Parker being amazing and I’m going to use all the self-control I have to not post every single one of them. I recognize that most people don’t need 10,000 photos of someone else’s kid.

There was partying at the playground, tea-drinking at AmyAndParker’s house and finally drinks all around at my favorite pub in all of Atlanta The Marlay House with good good friends. What more could a girl ask for?

Today, we had brunch with the lovely Sarah and a stroll through Little Five Points, where I treated myself to a new women’s herbal from the feminist bookstore in town.

It just feels so good to be home! I’m so looking forward to SOAW this year and seeing my grandmother again. I’m so excited about settling down in Asheville, seeing our good friends and living in the same city as them! I’m excited about my classes and find myself just plowing through the books I’ve already bought (and drooling over Anne Frye’s books which I cannot wait to buy!!!! But why why why are they so expensive???). I’m loving everything I’m knitting (I finished my cabled cowl, started on my shawl and am anticipating long johns as my next project) and feeling both incredibly antsy and totally faithful all at the same time.

Hallelujah.

Hillary and I are leaving town the day after tomorrow! I’m amazed by how little real preparation this has required. I suppose this is what happens after giving away most of one’s belongings.

Fall is in full force here in Albuquerque, so much so that I wonder if I’ll have missed it when I get to the South East (of course, fall doesn’t start until December in Atlanta).

Things we have done to prepare for departure:

Gone to see the Sand Hill Cranes land in San Antonio, NM (a sight for sure!)

Knit and knit and knit and knit

Watched 7/8 Harry potter movies… 5 of them in one day (no, I am not kidding and no I never ever want to do that again).

made birthday presents for a special birthday girl (no, not me) who will be THREE YEARS OLD in just over a week! (I suppose this counts as “…and knit and knit”)

Spent time with friends we’ll miss

Watched fall colors

all the cotton woods are yellow now… (tree outside our bedroom)

and this morning I hiked one of the canyons around the Sandia Mountain

It had snowed!

Tomorrow, the priest we have been living with for the past couple of months will do a mass for us at Trinity House and we’ll have a goodbye party.

I’m so eager to start heading east again. Tired as I am of moving and being uprooted and unstable, I find myself with new energy for this trip. It feels like we’re moving in a good direction and pursuing something life-giving.

Hillary found a website called Zero Tuition College, an online community of unschooling adults. She has been inspired to give a slightly more formal structure to the knowledge/education she has been pursuing for years. You can follow that on her new blog The Unschooled Seminarian. I’m really excited for both of us, as we pursue education in a way that makes sense for us.

Chelsea shared with me a sermon that a classmate of hers had written on advent. I wish I could share it here, but I don’t have the author’s permission to do so. The sermon was about advent from the view of the pregnant woman. Those of us who think of Advent, might think of it as expectant waiting for family time or presents or for the holida-infused consumerism to stop (FINALLY). Advent for Mary was expectant waiting of new life, new creation. Over nine months, she watched her body change, her belly swell, her breasts grow heavy. By December, she was tired, her feet were swollen, but she joyfully awaited the birth of her baby, her miracle, our messiah. Of course, birth is not just transition for the baby, but for the mother as well. Her body changed, her mind changes and then her life changes forever. How do we await God’s gifts? Do we focus on our swollen feet and curse our fatigue? Or do we rejoice, knowing that God is present in our life? Do we sit, quietly, and wait, feeling the stirring inside our bodies? Do we submit ourselves to the challenge and often the discomfort of transition, of birth?

This past year and the coming months feel very pregnant. I am learning so much, growing so much and I find myself so aware of the Divine in my life.

I had some difficulty in school growing up. Not necessarily in academics, but emotionally, school was a totally destructive environment for me. I was told a lot about the way I learn during those years in Public School (and during that one year my parents pulled me out of school). I was given an IndividualEducationPlan, pointers on “organization”, “studying”, writing etc. etc. I traded foreign language in middle school for support time. I was, thankfully, never told I was stupid. I was told that I had learning disabilities, that I had problems regurgitating information properly, that I didn’t have the proper attention span, that I was bad at organization, that I wasn’t really applying myself. I believed all of it- sometimes with self-defeat, other times with a self-rightoues understanding that the system I was being run through was not designed to fit me (though I still believed it fit most everyone else). I knew that grades and tests and papers did not reflect my true understanding of subject matter (haven’t we all scraped good grades in subjects we were totally lost in and found ourselves disappointed with grades on papers that we really enjoyed researching?), but I did not see any way out of this system (oh, how I wish I could go up to every high school student and shake them awake- NONE OF THIS MATTERS IN THE REAL WORLD! NONE OF IT! unless you want to be a high school teacher… in which case, remember all of it!).

As many of you know, I dropped out of college after one semester and have not looked back. Initially, I intended to continue my academic life at some point, believing I just needed a break. Over time, I came to realize how little our education system serves us, how little a college-degree provides, how deeply debt restricts us, that this system is only set up to marginalize those with little means (either through exclusion or by debt). I could not, nor did I want to, return.

Since then, my ideas and understanding have further developed to become skeptical of degrees, certification, and institutionalized learning in general. I believe firmly in a diversity of educational opportunities for ALL children and adults. For some (albeit few), the rigid structure and the system of institutional education is quite helpful! All power to ‘em. For many, it’s not. We all learn differently! I’ve come to learn a lot about and from Waldorf schools, Montessori schools, Free schools, Friends schools, unschooling and apprenticeship models. These different models work excellent for differently-talented individuals and groups of folks.

Since leaving school, I’ve discovered a LOT about how I learn and function. Much of it, not surprisingly, is quite contrary to what I was told about myself in my school days. I can look back and begin to see how different styles of education and different environments could have allowed me to flourish. I consider often, what kind of learning environment I want to provide for my own (future) children, and acknowledge that they will probably turn all of my carefully thought-out theories on their heads! My job, then, will be to listen to my children tell me how and what they need to learn.

So! after all of this, I am moving to Asheville… to go to “school”…

As I wrestled with my calling to midwifery, I wondered how I would go about gaining the skills and knowledge I need. There are many paths to becoming a midwife, which you can look up, or as me about if you want to know more, and they range from self-study to nursing school, all with varying degrees of legality (depending on the state, country etc.). I knew I did not want to follow the nursing (CNM) path, but that still left me with a lot of choices, many of which are difficult to discover, as midwifery is often practiced (and therefore taught) extralegally or illegally. I value the apprenticeship model immensely and knew that I wanted (and needed) that to be the biggest part of my “education”- but did I need to go to “school”? Plenty of midwives accept apprentices without formal education and I know I can study books theory on my own. I’m wary of GPAs, graded tests, credits- all those things that tend to limit our learning, rather than prove it. If I were to participate in a program, it would be for the community-building, community-ties, the chance to talk with others seeking the same knowledge I am. Yes, I want accountability in that knowledge; I want challenge! I know that the practice of midwifery is more than understanding anatomy and physiology, more than taking heart tones and blood pressure, more than vaginal exams and timing contractions. I wanted a program that would teach things holistically!

And I (think I hope I pray) I found a good fit!

I found The Matrona pretty early on in my search for midwifery programs. I liked the approach and scope described in the program. I liked the focus on holistic care, good communication, intuition, herbal and homeopathic medicine and the understanding that women’s bodies work best when left ALONE! Most of the programs were in the Pacific North West, however, and I have little desire to relocate there. So, I looked and looked and looked and looked and, months (years?) later… The Matrona Immersion Midwifery Program 2012… is to be held in Asheville, NC!

I filled out my application and spoke with Whapio over the phone. I already knew that I liked the way she thought about birth and midwifery, but when I heard her talk about the structuring of her program, I was for sure excited. She spoke about her program being about life and midwifery- not just clinical care. She spoke about the importance of communication, conflict resolution, counseling, and development of intuition. She told me that she gives optional reading every night because she believes the communal experience of coming to class everyday (without shame or fear) is more important than completing assignments on a rigid timeline (when you could always do them later- even after the course is ending!). She told me that she gives tests (with the answers) for us to take home and complete at the end of the program and keep for ourselves, because, of course, we will understand the results of our testing and what that means for us better than anyone else. Her understanding of priority in the “classroom” (or, living room as the case may be) is so in line with my values about education (which can often be rather anarchistic).

Then, a few weeks ago, I registered for the program.

So, it is with confidence and excitement that I embark upon this journey. I ask for your prayers (and if you have any connections to possible employment in Asheville, that wouldn’t hurt either).

How long has it been since my last post? I knew this would happen! Now it’s a quarter past six in the morning and I can’t sleep, so this may be a great time to catch up.

When I last left you, Hillary and I were living at Trinity House Catholic Worker and I had just been mugged. Since then, Hillary went to the ER, we moved out of Trinity House, I got into “school”, we road-tripped to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon, made it back to Albuquerque in one piece (barely!) and we are now beginning to pack our things and wrap up here, as we prepare to make our way back to the South East (this time to Asheville, NC) just in time to catch the annual SOAW demonstration in Columbus, GA.

We still work at Trinity House, running hospitality, 3 days a week (we love the guests!), but we could not longer continue to reside there, due to an extreme allergy Hillary seems to have to an environmental allergen in the house (probably a mold that our bodies are unfamiliar with, being that we’re east coast ladies). She suffered a 14 day migraine that landed her in the ER, but which miraculously disappeared 2 days after sleeping elsewhere.

We are now living a block from Trinity House with a really lovely couple who we met at church! One is a former family practitioner, the other an Episcopal priest (Oh, if only Hillary and I were a bit more mainstream, they might well be us!). We are so grateful for the opportunity to get to meet, grow to know and live with such wonderful people! I am so amazed by their incredible hospitality; they took us in with no hesitation after meeting us once and very briefly! We have fallen into a comfortable rhythm of sharing meals, sharing chores and sharing time with each other. After struggling so hard to “make” community for so long, I have to laugh at the ease with which we have found it in this house. These people are such the example of Jesus’ teachings of hospitality- offering us not only shelter and food, but a home, meals, fellowship and mentorship. I think often of the perfect, beautiful, irony of coming here to Albuquerque with the intention of offering hospitality and finding myself so joyfully on the receiving end. If I were Hillary, I would be able to think of the verse in which Jesus blesses his disciples with the knowledge that they (we) will always have to be on the receiving end of hospitality and the works of mercy.

We went to Las Vegas, NV! And the Grand Canyon! I’m sure I don’t have to tell you I much preferred the latter. But, oh Las Vegas, what a trip.

It was a very cold ride, in an old veg-oil mercedes with no passenger side window. We wore many layers. (do you recognize that awesome red sweater that Hillary is wearing? That one I started knitting for her back in June? Well, it’s done!)

We caravaned with the lovely ladies in the center there: Mary and Sister Angeline. Never underestimate the speed of a nun! These ladies booked right passed us and kept on going! We finally convinced them to slow down for us young folks.

Las Vegas was… strange. We were there for the International Catholic Worker Gathering and didn’t do too much exploring of the “night life”, but what we did see was… overwhelming. The great epitome of American culture: MONEY, SEX(not the good kind), FOOD, DRUGS! emphasized with flashing lights and glitter to boot. We walked around a couple of casinos, mouths agape, and listened to drunken gamblers sing America the Beautiful with glasses raised in a bar within a casino. The gathering was fine. I’m easily overwhelmed by large groups of people, and there were some discouraging conversation with former friends from other communities, but I helped with a round table on sexuality in the Catholic Worker movement, met some interesting people, and got to hear Wes and Sue Howard-Brook give a talk connected to Wes’ new book: Unveiling Empire. The round table was perhaps a bit disappointing. I forget how far radical Christians have yet to come in terms of sex-positivity, but also how defensive they are about just how “tolerant”/”accepting” they and their communities are (just because you tolerate monogamously partnered gay and lesbian couples, does not mean you are sex-positive). But it’s a start.

We visited the Las Vegas Catholic Worker!

and headed back to Albuquerque, making one little stop along the way…

(Bobbie’s and my love is as deep as the canyon!)

I really didn’t feel like I could leave the South West without seeing it for myself.

We finally made it home after a bit of debacle and by the grace of God.

But now we’re trading scenery again.

These mountains…

for these…

Asheville, NC!

We hop on a bus in less than 2 weeks! We’ll arrive in Atlanta the night before my birthday and spend a couple of days with friends until heading down to Columbus for the SOAW demonstration (and to see my grandmother!). Then, it’s over to Alabama to pick up Hillary’s car, pup and eat some Thanksgiving food. We should arrive in Asheville a day or two after Thanksgiving!

See you there?