The Purple Cow, or Joanna and Jeanne Laugh Their Heads Off

Once upon a time, when Karen, Joanna, and Jeanne were in junior high they fancied themselves writers. This belief led them to compose a dreadfully silly, drama-soaked missive simply titled "Our Saga". One of the characters in the aforementioned story was a cow of purple persuasion, aptly named "The Purple Cow". He even had a theme song, which was actually just a Phil Keaggy song with the words "Purple Cow" inserted where "Love Divine" had once been. Sometimes the girls still sing it when they are in a silly mood, or when they are at a one-of-a-kind restaurant named "Purple Cow"!

Karen found "Purple Cow" in a travel guide. Of course, we knew we had to go. When we got there we found our own table and ordered, what else, Purple Cow milkshakes and malts, vanilla-flavored purple madness. This picture is simply entitled, "Purple Gluttony".

After we all drank A LOT of purple milkshake I threatened to "purple throw-up". Karen did not appreciate that, but Joanna, she of the iron-stomach (except where pickles are concerned), drank on. I have never been more proud of her.

After we had our fill of purple, we ventured outside. Karen insisted we pose in front of the "Purple Cow" sign. We tired out hardest, but we couldn't keep a straight face. Especially when a lady sitting on the patio of the restaurant gave us a look as if to say "what the heck is wrong with those girls? They should know better!" Indeed, we should.

Observe the way Joanna imitates the women. She started laughing and as we all know, once Joanna starts laughing, I do. Karen simply sighed (she was always the more mature one. Even her "Saga" entries were more refined, if such a thing could be possible), and muttered "typical". Well, yes, but I think that's why she loves us so much.

Finally we got it together.

I'm so glad Karen and Joanna came to visit me this weekend. I love them so much! Wouldn't you?

The Weekend in Pictures

This weekend Karen and Joanna made the seven hour trek from St. Louis to Little Rock for Labor Day weekend, bringing some much-needed laughter and fun with them. It is so good to be around people who know you so completely and like you anyway! Here are some photos from this weekend, along with the accompanying stories, or course.

Karen and Joanna met Bud and Nancy, my host family for the year.

Don't they look like fun? When Joanna thanked Nancy for allowing them to visit for the weekend Nancy said, "oh, well, we really had no choice" in her off-beat way. Joanna laughed and laughed. So did I.

Randy and Ferdine are missionaries in Italy with SIM. They have been staying at the Big Blue Farmhouse for their summer furlough, but left today. My life will be much less interesting now that Randy isn't around to pick up the dog and dance with him across the room.

Karen, Joanna, and I had many adventures this weekend, including trying to track down the "little rock" of Little Rock. We didn't ultimately succeed in that quest, but we did find many other interesting sites, including this big statue of Casimir Pulaski. He is Karen's personal hero, affording her a day off from school once a year. Can you see the admiration in her eyes?

Well, you could see it if she didn't have her super cool sunglasses on.

Speaking of Karen, she made an unexpected friend in Little Rock. MacGregor-dog fell in love with her! While I basically ignore him (except when he slobbers on my dress pants, or knocks books out of my hand in a desperate bid for attention, or barks, barks, barks his head off at 5:30 in the morning, at which times I scold him), Karen taught him to shake paws. Nancy is still talking about how much she liked Karen, and even MacGregor looks a little depressed. Karen, come back!

Oh, sure, he looks innocent enough, cute even, but don't let him fool you. His bark is chilling, especially early in the morning.

Before they left, Karen took a pciture of me in my pajamas (and not even my cute ones! In fact, I think Randy mocked them at breakfast) in front of the Big Blue Farmhouse. I include it only because I want you to see where I live. It's quite picturesque, don't you think?

Well, that's enough for tonight. Come back tomorrow for pictures detailing our trip to the Purple Cow.

More Calvin Cake, Please

For Karen, my Reformed buddy

"However many blessings we expect from God,

His infinite liberality will always exceed

all our wishes and our thoughts.”

John Calvin, 1509-1564

Adventures in French Cooking

Recently I've been reading a book called My Life in France by Julia Child. This has cultivated in me a deep desire to move to France and spend my days cooking and wandering around the streets of Paris saying things like "eh bein, tant pis" accompanied by deep sighs and graceful hand gestures. Of course it is quite impossible for me to do this. So instead of becoming depressed by an unfulfilled dream, I decided to live the la bella France way of life here in the States.

First, you start with a good friend and a bottle of wine.

An official recipe by the venerable Julia Child.

A few pounds of onions. Lots and lots of onions.

After cutting up the onions and shoving them as best you can into a large pot, add wine, butter (Julia Child would never use margarine!), beef stock, and a few cloves of garlic. Reduce and cook for an hour of so, ladle into bowls, and sprinkle liberally with shredded Jarlsberg cheese. There you have it: a delicious authentically French meal.

Put on a good movie (or documentary of a crazy nun, as the case may be) and give the rest of the wine to the little black doggie.

I can't think of a better way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon!

Sacred Places

Note: I wrote this post a month ago, but today seemed like a good day to post it.

I think it was Emily Dickinson who said "my friends have made my life". I have found this to be so in my own life. My friends bring color and vitality to what at times can prove to be a menial existence. One of my favorite life-experiences is Bible study with "the girls" headed up by Darlene McDonald, whom I consider to be my spiritual mom. I have grown up in her house as much as my own and her family has proven to be invaluable to my growth as a human being. God has blessed me time and time again through them.

Anyway, I wanted to record a little picture diary of Bible study for when I am far, far away in Arkansas. I also wanted to share with anyone who happens to read this blog the fun we have studying the lives of saints and sinners, men and women, husbands and wives, and Jesus. I also think it will be good for those who are even now far, far away (Lauren, Adrienne, Lydia, and Sarah - we miss you!) to remember their time there fondly.

This is one of many entrances to the "Secret Garden", so dubbed by Mrs. McDonald. The best Bible study always happens here!

Delightful surprises abound in Mrs. McDonald's garden. I don't quite know how she does it, but she is a master homemaker. I always like to observe the little touches that make her house a home.

Bible study gets underway as Stephanie brings the treats! Mrs. McDonald is a wonderful hostess. I don't ever remember a time I felt out of place or unwelcome in her home. She always makes sure we have lots of delicious treats on which to snack!

Mrs. McDonald teaches. She probably doesn't like this picture much, but it was the only one I had of her and I had to include it for when I am somewhere deep in the recesses of Arkansas!

Joanna and Allison look on as Mrs. McDonald teaches. Joanna looks slightly perturbed because I had been trying to induce her to smell some fresh dill I had just picked from the garden. One of my favorites activities during Bible study is the time we take to exchange prayer requests. Last month Joanna's prayer request was that I would stop harassing her with dill.

This cow has been a staple of the McDonald's backyard since before I can remember. I have always harbored a secret desire to get married in their backyard with this cow looking on.

I don't know if you can read what it says on this rock, found nestled in the Secret Garden, but the reference is from Isaiah 58. I think Mrs. McDonald has been a living testimony of these verses:

"And if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom will become like midday. And the LORD will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail."

Yes, some of my better memories have been made in the Secret Garden. It is a sacred place.

Tilling the Land

I love to till the land. Now, when I say I love to "till the land", what I really mean is I love the idea of tilling the land (probably a hangover from my Little House on the Prairie days). A few weeks ago my friend Karen and I hatched a plan to turn her backyard into our very own vegetable garden. I was envisioning us kneeling in the dirt weeding, patting the head of our adorable garden gnome, throwing our heads back with laughter as we picked our bountiful harvest, and finally turning our efforts into delicious dishes which we would serve with obvious pride and delight to our admiring friends.

It turns out that while I was envisioning this dream world of gardening paradise, Karen was planning it out and she expected me to do actual work, which included dirt under my fingernails, sweat on my brow, and finally - the greatest insult - she expected me to do all of this completely gnome-less. This weekend when we were at Lowe's picking up our vegetables, Aaron ponder the purchase of a plastic owl, but an actual gnome has yet to materialize (unconscionable!). What follows is a picture journal of our journey to garden-dom (you will notice the decided lack of gnomes).

Karen's dad breaking ground. I didn't get there early enough to help with this part which was highly disappointing to me because I love to till. Still, lookin' good Mr. B!
















Karen and her family are planners; left to my own devices I would have just aimed the rotor-tiller and gone to town. Karen's mom is pictured here surveying their good orderly work.















Finally! Our beautiful garden plot! We emptied forty bags of topsoil and mushroom compost into this little garden, but at the end of the day we could stand back and view our labors with pride.












The above pictures are from the first weekend alone. This last weekend found me, Aaron, and Joanna piling into my car for the trip into Illinois (the home of the venerable Karen). When we go to her house for the day we usually call out "not it" and scurry to someone else's car. This weekend was my weekend to drive however, and I didn't really mind at all. It was the perfect excuse to unleash Mark Driscoll onto a completely captive audience. At the end of the day Joanna was begging for more of his sermons and I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself.

This last weekend was a bit less sunnier than the previous one, although this weekend we didn't have to face THE IVY, that leafy-green bane of my existence. Last weekend I almost lost my life yanking out a stubborn bit of it. Funny story: Karen's dad was still measuring the garden and with nothing to do but watch (boring) Karen decided to put us to work de-ivying her back fence. We set to work and I soon decided it wasn't for me. I began to half-heartedly pull at the ivy-covered fence and talk to my neighbors.

Joanna didn't engage me as she clipped away at the ivy with her shears, Aaron was breaking up a large tree-branch and couldn't be bothered, and Karen was going back and forth from the garden plot to the fence. I was the only one talking, or singing, as the mood struck me, but pretty soon I became intent on pulling out this extremely stubborn ivy root. I yanked and yanked and yanked and finally it came loose, sending me sprawling onto my back, almost head-over-heels into the neighbor's lowered concrete driveway. I jumped up and pointed out to Aaron that I had almost been killed. I think he rolled his eyes at me. I looked around for additional sympathy, but there was none to be had. So much for friends...

Anyway, this weekend went a lot smoother. No near death experiences. Here are the pictures from this weekend for your viewing pleasure.

Poor Aaron spent a decidedly long time planting the onions after Joanna and I plopped the lettuce, zucchini, peppers, and tomatoes in the ground and blithely went off to other projects.















The other project Joanna and I tackled was hosta-planting (whatever those are)! Karen was like "act like you're digging a hole" and I'm like "I am digging a hole!" all nine of them. Joanna is in the background, serenely looking on. Her job was compost-mixer. Lucky...




















These are all the pictures I have at present (until I can steal more from Karen's Flickr account). The garden is my summer project and it has been a tremendous amount of fun. After a day of gardening we hole up in Karen's cozy living room and talk about theology, relationships, patriotism, C.S. Lewis, and Canadian citizenship while drinking tea and eating brownies. Sometimes Joanna serenades us with piano sonatas (or tries to drowned out the theology talk, no one really knows) and sometimes we pile back into the car and go to Annie's for custard. We are a happy little lot. The only thing that could possibly make this anymore enjoyable would be the addition of a garden gnome.

We'll see what next weekend holds...