by jphilo | Jan 14, 2013 | Current Events
This is the traditional Easy-Bake Oven, the modern day version of the Easy-Bake I coveted during my childhood. But my childhood was so deprived, I never received the gift of my dreams. Probably because Mom made us walk to school every day.
In the snow.
Uphill.
Both ways.
My desire was finally realized during our 2007 family White Elephant gift exchange. That was the year I made darn tootin’ sure to win back the Easy-Bake oven that was my contribution to the event.
I found it at Good Will.
In the box.
Never opened.
With all the food mixes intact.
Apparently, my childhood Easy-Bake obsession or my adult one–or perhaps both–made an impression on my sister. Because as the media buzz about McKenna Pope, the teenage girl in New Jersey who petitioned Hasbro to make a bro-friendly oven for boys, Sis sent me the link about the story.
The new design has not yet been unveiled.
But rumor has it that the stove will be grey and black.
Or decorated in camo.
Very manly.
I feel ambivalent about Hasbro’s new Easy-Bake for boys bros. Not because I have anything against boys learning to cook. All boys need to learn the basics of cooking, and baking teeny-tiny cakes under a light bulb is as a good a place as any. It’s just that deep down, I’m jealous worried. McKenna’s little brother, Gavyn will have the first every Easy-Bake Oven for boys before he’s five years old. I was over fifty before I cooked with one.
It took all morning to bake one teeny-tiny cake.
Which I couldn’t eat because the cake mixes were expired.
Plus, I didn’t read the directions carefully enough.
So the plastic spatula sort of melted.
After about six hours slaving over a hot light bulb, I threw the whole mess in the garbage. The whole experience was rather traumatic. Hopefully, Gavyn will have more success with his Easy-Bake.
So he doesn’t become bitter.
Turn his back on cooking.
Develop an aversion to light bulbs.
Become a habitual plastic spatula melter.
Easy-Bake Ovens can be life-changing. I just hope Gavin’s Easy-Bake bromance is a long and loving one.
by jphilo | Jan 4, 2013 | Church Newsletter Columns
And the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid;
for behold, I bring you good news of great joy,
for today in the city of David there has been born to you a Savior who is Christ the Lord. Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.”
Luke 2: 10–11,14
Joy suckers. During the weeks before Christmas, the news was full of them.
Polio eradication workers in Pakistan killed by terrorists.
Fire fighters in Webster, New York shot when they responded to a house fire call.
Children and teachers gunned down at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
“How,” the watching world asks, “could Christians rejoice over the birth of Jesus in times like these? Why did they feast and give gifts as though nothing happened?”
“How indeed?” Christians wondered. “How can we celebrating light in the midst of such darkness? Shouldn’t we sit in the dark and grieve instead?” And so our guilty thoughts began, along with doubt and fear and self-loathing.
Joy suckers, all of them.
Waiting to extract every bit of gladness from the hearts of God’s people.
Eager to settle on our shoulders a mantle of gloom and sadness.
Ready to burden our hearts and bow our heads, so we succumb to dark despair.
Two thousand years ago, into a world as black as ours seems today, God sent his Son as a light in the darkness. And the joy suckers could not comprehend it.
They could not comprehend that God would allow a baby born in a manger to become a man who would be killed for doing what was right.
They could not comprehend that God would allow the healer of the sick to die at the hands of terrorists.
They could not comprehend that the Father loved the world so much, He willingly experienced the heart-wrenching death of his own Son.
But two thousand years ago, the Lord of hosts understood it all.
He understood that on Christmas Eve of 2012, the families of two fire fighters in Webster, New York would need the assurance of a God who knew what it felt like to die for doing the right thing.
He understood that on December 19, 2012 the loved ones of nine dead health workers in Pakistan would need the comfort of the great physician slain by an angry mob.
He understood that on December 14, 2012 the parents of twenty dead children would need a Savior who, like them, had anguished over the death of a child.
The joy suckers couldn’t comprehend such light, such love. But we, His broken children, can.
The entrance of God’s light and love into our darkness is why we feasted with our families,
why we gave and received gifts,
why we joined hands and sang carols.
Silent Night
Joy to the World
Hark the Herald Angels Sing.
Because, when we raised our faces to His light and sang,
the darkness tried to hide.
It trembled at His voice.
How great is our God!
Sing with me,
Jolene
photo credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net
by jphilo | Dec 28, 2012 | Daily Life
The view outside the upstairs window is a study of white snow on brown-grey tree limbs.
Sun gleams through the windowpane, but the glass feels like ice.
Winter crowds too close around our house.
Darkness falls too soon at night and leaves too late each morning.
Still, the ivy geranium is thriving.
It nearly succumbed to a vinca vine bully two short months ago,
And survived a late October transplant into an old washtub
To make a vigorous comeback.
Two weeks ago, as daylight grew scarce,
The ivy geranium produced first one bud and then another.
Mere inches from the icy windowpane,
The buds stretched toward the light.
First one bloomed and then the other during this week of Christmas,
Vibrant, pink reminders of the power of weakness:
The power of freedom from bullies,
The power of weak December light,
The power of a baby in a manger,
And the power of tiny seeds hidden under the snow, waiting for spring.
by jphilo | Dec 25, 2012 | Current Events
M
by jphilo | Dec 24, 2012 | Family
Thanks to Winter Storm Draco, the winter session of Camp Dorothy started a day late. Things finally got rolling Saturday afternoon, after Hiram brought Mom to our house. The first order of business was lunch, followed by baking caramel rolls for the neighbors. Dorothy participated in the first, but declined the second, choosing instead to take a nap.
The nap ended before the rolls were done.
So Dorothy staked out her spot on the sofa and amused herself by reading a novel and working a few crossword puzzles. Hiram stepped in as activity director and organized a rousing Uno tournament that was enjoyed by all. Evening activities included supper, caramel rolls, Wheel of Fortune, and requests by someone for lap blankets and a footstool before camp goers watched the Coen remake of True Grit. Not everyone lasted to the end of the movie. At breakfast, I told Mom that Mattie Ross lost her arm, but lived to see another day, thanks to Rooster Cogburn.
Of course, I left out the gory details since we were eating.
Sunday was busy, what with left over caramel rolls to eat at breakfast, a morning nap while the camp director and activity director went to church, watching the camp director make apple crisp for dessert after lunch, naps all around in the afternoon, novels to read, and a spot on the sofa to guard from interlopers. Apparently, that spot is the Camp Dorothy version of Mom’s favorite red chair at home.
If you ever go to visit her there, DON’T SIT IN THE RED CHAIR!
All in all, a good Sunday even though Vanna, Pat, Judge Judy, and Alex Trebek all take the day off. Which, when considered in the right light, is good news. Because on Monday afternoon, after Camp Dorothy ends, those perky television personalities will be well rested and raring to go when Mom settles back into the red chair for hours of viewing pleasure.
Back to you, Pat Sajak.
