A good friend gave me a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harber Lee.  I have some vacation time beginning tomorrow afternoon and can’t wait to dive into the book.  Is there anything I should look out for?

Go and buy the book A Lesson Before Dying by Earnest Gaines. 

It is a great book written about a young black man named Jefferson who has been sentenced to the death penalty in 1948 Louisiana.  During Jefferson’s trial, the defense attorney claims that sending the young man to the electric chair would be similar to sending a hog to the electric chair.  In his attempt to prove Jefferson’s inability to hatch a murder plan, the young man’s mother, Miss Emma believes that the defense attorney has claimed that Jefferson isn’t a man at all. 

The remainder of the story is about a teacher, Grant Wiggins who reluctantly goes back and forth to the jail hoping to help Jefferson “become a man” so that he can die with dignity.  Grant has grown up in the same Cajun town as Jefferson but was able to escape to go to a university in California.  Grant felt pulled back home and would drop everything and leave if he wouldn’t regret it.  Now, he has to help Jefferson become a man which seems like an impossible task given the racial tides that swell against the lives of black men and women in the south.

Beginning April 23, Coffee d’Vine will be open on Sundays from 2:00 pm – 10:00 pm.  That is the most amazing news that I have heard today.

A few short thoughts:

Hope is doing well.  She hasn’t been too sick in the past two weeks.  The baby will probably be born around September 13.  We’re looking for some good names if you have any suggestions.

Spring has finally sprung.  The daffodils that were planted in the fall around our house are close to opening up and students have appeared outside on the grass to bask.  It isn’t spring until students are lying around outside pretending to study.

I’ve decided to read only one book at a time.  I have typically had several books going at once: one as devotional, another to read in a distracting environment, one that can only be read in silence, one that is directly involved with my job and probably one other book just for good measure.  NO MORE.  It’s one book at a time: A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren.  I have not been impressed thus far with Mr. McLaren’s ego-centric writing style.  If he gives me one more warning about the radical ideas that he is about to share; that I could put the book down at any moment, I’m going to puke. 

Opening day is this Sunday when the Indians take on the White Sux.  Go Tribe!

Only six weeks remain in the semester.  Life is not viewed in months but in semesters with a summer and Christmas break in between.  I feel sorry for those whose lives do not revolve around the rythym of the academic calendar.

A college worship list: Lord I Lift Your Name on High, Every Move I Make, Shout to the Lord (with the key change), Draw Me Close. 

Ah Josh… no one can blame you for a reminiscence of the good ol’ days.  While I often think of this sort of reminiscent writing as cheezy, I couldn’t help it.  Please forgive all of the “I” personal pronouns.  Here are a few memories of my own:

JC Powerhouse: After my first appearance with Gimpy, I was hooked.  People actually responded to my humor and wanted to know what we were going to do for the next show.  Never before had this happened to me.  Once Paul D. and I hooked up for the “Counting Cats”, I found a niche that changed my confidence.  Being a part of JCP was such an emotional high and I couldn’t wait until the next show.

Soccer: Even though we rarely won games, the feeling of being on the soccer team has never been replaced.  Driving to foreign abbreviated places like BBC, LBC, PCB, ABC, and Mont. Co. Comm. Coll. can be recalled instantly during the cool fall months.  Fall just doesn’t seem right without a 3:30-5:30 practice somedays.  If a song by the Counting Crows, Gin Blossoms or Toad the Wet Sprocket comes on the radio, I’m instantly placed on a PA toll road nervously anticipating an upcoming game.  For the record, I played most games terrified that the ball might actually come my direction. 

Remember when Stats would bring his couch to away games?  I can’t tell you how much harder I played knowing that there were at least a handful of our fans on the sidelines.

It was through soccer that I got a nick-name: “Petey”.  Vernon, the coach, really thought my name was Pete.  So one day during a practice in the gym, he stopped practice and told the team that I was no longer going to answer to “Jesse” but instead I would only respond to “Pete”.  In order to have a nick-name you have to be accepted and belong to the group. 

Perhaps at another time I’ll remember the back road to the KoP Mall, the G-Lodge Diner, when Josh C. cut his hair, Jars of Clay’s first album, the smell of the mailroom, President Smith in Chapel, my first job with Housekeeping, the first time I met Mr. T and how I couldn’t wait for breaks to be over so that I could come back to school.

Below is a funny story about Grace and Isaac with Erinn C. (http://www.xanga.com/erinnsensei), one of our babysitters.

Still later, we were reading out of Isaac’s library book on Arctic wildlife. We came to this page about skuas. Have you ever heard of the skua? I hadn’t. The kids asked me what this bird eats, and I had to tell them that these birds, nicknamed something like the Pirates of the Arctic, scream at other birds until the startled birds throw up their own food. Then the skuas eat the regurgitated food. Yeah, I know. Gross. You should have seen Grace and Isaac’s faces. Isaac may haved thought it moderately cool, but Grace was seriously revolted. Okay. So on the next page, there was a rather terrifying picture of a golden eagle. I told the kids that this bird eats things like small mice and rabbits. Grace was horrified that mother bunnies wouldn’t be able to find their babies. So she got an ingenious idea. She decided that we could make the skuas yell at the golden eagles until they threw up the bunnies, after which we could wrap the poor bunnies in blankets and take them back to their mommies. And we could tell the skuas to only eat mice.

For Gracie, you have to appreciate that all small animals who are alone are looking for their mothers and vice versa.  Being separated from your mother is about as bad as it gets for Gracie.

Spring Break is next week.  It will be nice to go on break and we’ll be going home.  While it is nice to go home (to Ohio), it isn’t always restful.  Not sleeping in your own bed and not being able to hide (as an introvert, I need to hide) can add up.  But I am glad that I like my inlaws and relatives.  They’re really good folks that also really like my children.  It’s nice to be liked by your family.

Hope had an ultrasound on Friday afternoon.  There is only one baby in there and the sex is to be determined.  Right now the baby is only the size on a finger.  The kids and I were in the room and could see the baby’s heart beating rapidly on the screen.  It is still facinating.

Did I want one baby or two babies?  In having twins in Grace and Isaac, there are moments of their early days that have been completely forgotten because of lack of sleep and sanity.  But if you haven’t noticed, the children that are created between Hope and I are used by scientists to calibrate their instruments.  In other words, they’re perfect.

Later on Friday we purchased the “Curious George” soundtrack.  Do not walk!  RUN to your local record store to get this CD!  Then find yourself a slow-moving Saturday afternoon and hit “repeat all” on your CD player.

“Without you I was broken but I’d rather be broke down with you by my side.”  (Curious George)