The Yankee Rides Out The Storm (And Its Aftermath)

Somehow I managed to set Thursday's post to publish NEXT June 28th, so I'll post it Monday. In the meantime here's an update on the aftermath of last night's storm.

The storm came through between 10:45 and 11:30 p.m. The power actualy went off before the worst of the storm hit, and before it went totally off we had disco light shows in several buildings. (Note to self: buy flashlights for the rooms in the Guest Houses.) This morning we woke to no power along with 1.5 million or so others, reports of winds clocked at 85 m.p.m with 85 m.p.h. gusts., and forecasts of 100+ degree temperatures. A couple of the summer session folks ran out to Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks and brought back coffee, bagels, and doughnuts. Over our impromptu breakfast we discussed contingency plans, and then the power came back on a little before 9:00 a.m.

Of course, we're still not problem free. The Guest Houses and the Dorms have power but no air conditioning. Well, most of the Guest Houses and Dorms. Things are connected strangely in places around campus. I have one guest room without power entirely, and in my office, which is next door to that room, the thermostat is out even though the a/c unit fan is running. In my apartment upstairs the thermostats have no power, one kitchen outlet has no power, and the kitchen closet light doesn't work. The lounge next door to my apartment also has a thermostat with no power. We still don't know when the the power to those systems will be up and running.

We decided to extend the hours of the Welcome Center, which usually closes at 2:00 p.m. on Saturdays, because it has both power and a/c. An email went out to the student, staff, and faculty lists letting them know, since some of them live off campus in areas that have no power. Some folks have come to cool off and charge their cell phones, laptops, and tablets. I'm sure there will be more before the day ends.

Right after lunch I drove down to Old Town to pick up a couple of packages that were waiting for me. There were no working traffic lights between the seminary and the King Street Metro Station. One intersection had a four-way stop sign placed in the center of it. At the rest you pretty much had to take your chances, though most people treated the intersections as four-way stops. But not everyone. Old Town has power, and there were plenty of tourists. I had some other errands I planned to do today, but given the situation, it seemed like a good idea to stay on or near campus. And we didn't really know what road or power conditions were heading south

We have our share of severe storms in New England, and I experienced many in the Midwest while visiting relatives as a child and later while at college and graduate school. This one really wasn't any different. I have my shelf of emergency food that doesn't need to be refridgerated or cooked. I have my hand-crank flashlight/radio from LL Bean. However, I do miss having a gas stove. I know how to maximize the use of window shades and open/closed windows to keep the apartment somewhat cool, and I know to drink plenty of water.

Like almost anyplace I've been during severe weather, people are pulling together to make sure everyone is okay. I'm glad I could help by staffing the Welcome Center for the afternoon to make it available.

Re-What?

Yesterday I blogged for the first time in a week when I posted on my other blog (A Connecticut Yankee in Robert E. Lee's Back Yard). Usually I'm pretty good at keeping up with the Monday and Thursday posting schedule, even if I don't post regularly here, but last week just seemed to slip by. Some evenings were disrupted by the needs of folks in the dorms who were here for a program. Other evenings I just had no motivation to write.

Maybe it was the heat. The week started out fairly cool, but Tuesday the humidity started to climb. By Wednesday the temperature reached the mid-90's, and Weather Service issued extreme heat warnings. It stayed in the 90's for three days, which was the definition of a heat wave at one time. Friday night the climate control system in my building went on the fritz and didn't get fixed until late Saturday morning. So maybe it was the weather.

Or maybe it's been the sense of dislocation. As I said yesterday when I talked about architecture, a lot of things contribute to that feeling. Today as I cleaned the apartment I was really aware of how large it is compared to my last place. That is NOT a complaint. I'm looking forward to picking out new furniture over the next few months. But after almost seven years in less than 500 square feet, it's an adjustment.

I'm coming to realize that it's not just readjustment. It's pretty much re-inventing my life. For the first time in almost 20 years I'm looking at a future that is not centered on the church. Don't laugh. I know I'm at Virginia Theological Seminary. No. Do laugh. God definitely has a sense of humor!

I think I'm going to take a walk around my new home and enjoy it.

The Yankee Sees Bricks

Recently a friend of mine let people know that she accepted a new position and would be moving to Cape Cod. She included a picture of the house they would rent, a historic cape cod style cottage. You find this type of house throughout the Northeast. It was quite popular for most of the middle decades of the 20th Century. I grew up in one built in 1947. A friend of mine who grew up in an almost identical house in Levittown, NY that was built around the same time.

Another common form of house in the Northeast is the saltbox. This is a picture of the oldest one in Darien, Conncecticut, not far from my childhood home. It was built circa 1690. Both the cape and the saltbox were originally wood frame houses. In fact, most of the houses in New England are--or were--wood frame.




This farmhouse is of a type common in eastern Pennsylvania where my brother and his family live. They still build houses with this kind of stonework in that area. It is a distinctive style that I identify with that part of Pennsylvania and parts of New Jersey.





So when I came down to this part of Virginia I found brick. Lots of brick. Like this cape cod. It just doesn't look right to me. The use of brick extends up into Maryland. Last night I had dinner with friends in Bethesda, and their home is a ranch style house built of brick. I've seen frame houses and a stone house here and there, but brick seems to predominate. Almost every building on the Seminary campus is built of brick, though that doesn't strike ma as all that out of place. Most college campuses I've visited or lived on have most buildings constructed of brick. But even the faculty/staff housing on campus is built of brick.

I'm sure there must be, or have been, a reason for the use of so much brick in this area, but I don't know what it is. But even knowing the reason wouldn't lessen the sense of unfamiliarity. I wonder if my somewhat limited knowledge of and interest in architecture increases my sense of dislocation. Or if I'm just more aware of this particular piece of the feeling than most people relocating to a new area, and they're more aware of other pieces than I am.

And there are many pieces to it, but it's not about being unhappy. The longer I'm here, the more I know this was absolutely the right decision. I'm making new friends. I'm catching up with old friends who relocated to this area or have lived here as long as I've known them. My job is all I could have asked for. But as Moses said when he named his firstborn, "I have been a stranger in a strange land."

A Visit to Grace

No, I didn't go back to Connecticut for a visit. This morning I went to Grace Alexandria. I knew it was going to be a different experience when I looked at their web site. Rite I is the predominant service used at Grace. It took me a little longer to drive to the church than I thought, and I arrived during the first hymn. Incense wafted out the front door when the person ahead of me opened it. In spite of the pictures on the web site, the altar against the wall without a second altar forward surprised me, even more so when the priest celebrated facing the altar with his back to the congregation.

All the music was familiar, and they used Lift Every Voice and Sing as well as the Hymnal 1982. I also saw a few copies of Wonder Love and Praise. This congregation takes its music and its worship seriously and joyfully. They also appear to be involved in a lot of inreach and outreach. This being the third Sunday of the month, they had laying on of hands for healing by the priest after the service, but they also had Stephen Ministers available for conversation and prayer.

All of that being said, it did not feel particularly welcoming. The congregation appears to be large enough that not everyone knows everyone else. The usher who greeted me did nothing more than hand me a bulletin and say hello. No one seemed interested in pointing a newcomer toward Coffee Hour after the service. The bulletin and the web site tell visitors to ask the ushers for directions, but they seemed more interested in talking to people they knew than looking out for newcomers.

Once again I found an overwhelmingly Anglo congregation. However, I did see more people of color than any other church in Alexandria I've visited so far (Epiphany is in the District). I also noted that in spite of the presence of a Hispanic ministry in the church, the Spanish Eucharist was mentioned only once in the announcements handed out with the bulletin and only in English.

A couple of observations. In the middle of a Rite I Eucharist they used the Form III Prayers of the People from Rite II. When the offering was brought forward they not only sang verse 3 of Hymn 380 (the Doxology) but also verse 4 of Hymn 717 ("My country 'tis of thee..."). Okay, it's in the hymnal, but I was really uncomfortable with it being sung at that point in the service.

It might be worth going back to see what their service is like once they're resume their regular worship schedule, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the parish for me.

The Yankee Enjoys Spring

I've always preferred Spring and Fall to Summer and Winter. Although if I had to choose one of the latter two seasons, it would be Winter. In the Winter you can always put on another layer of clothing, but in the Summer there are only so many layers you can remove!

This year we had an unusually mild Winter, which led to an early Spring. Back in Connecticut before I left, the Dogwood blooms came and went before the annual Dogwood Festivals. The Lilacs bloomed long before Memorial Day. Many of the trees started budding before the Daffodils bloomed. By the time I arrived in Virginia it was practically Summer!

Well perhaps late Spring, even though it was the first of May. But even here the whole seasonal timetable seems off. The roses, which usually start blooming shortly before Commencement, were flowering the week after Easter (I was here for a couple of days of meetings before I moved and started the job). And Summer humidity has already reared its ugly head. Even the locals were not amused.

One of the nice things about the Seminary is the amount of green space. The main part of the campus sits around what is called The Grove. It has too many trees to be a lawn and too small an area with too few trees to be called woods. A few benches dot the upper end, and there's even a swing; one of four that mysteriously appeared around campus toward the end of the term. The Grove is literally my front yard. Fortunately, I don't have to maintain it. They do such a thorough job that I've seen all of two Dandelions so far. One of the things I remember about Rockford in the last weeks leading up to Commencement is the Dandelions that covered the big open space in the middle of the main part of campus. No Dandelions here, but plenty of Clover.

The slower pace here provides opportunities throughout the day to notice the landscape around me and its inhabitants. Lots of chipmunks scurry around, and I often watch them dart into the storm drains along the Grove as I walk toward them. Several of the squirrels here are darker than I'm used to seeing. I've even one that's nearly black. There are birds I don't recognize. I could go invest in a field guide, but for now I'm enjoying noticing all that's different amidst that which is familiar.

Spring is a new beginning...

Experimenting with the Electric Skillet

The Summer I lived in Milwaukee it took the gas company longer than expected to connect the stove. One of my housemate's parents were due for dinner, and we had no stove. I cooked tomato sauce from scratch in an electric skillet, and my other housemate cooked the pasta in a hot pot. I don't know how she did it, but she did.

For years I've had a brand new electric skillet that got passed on to me when Mom and Bill consolidated households. Now that the kitchen is unpacked and semi-organized, and I have plenty of counter space, I figured I should see what I could cook with it. A little digging around on the Internet resulted in many recipes, and I even read that some people bake with their electric skillets. That led me to thinking about flat breads, which are often cooked in skillets. Okay, I said to myself, it's worth a try.

I selected a recipe for Piadini, an Italian version. One-and-a-half cups of flour, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, 1/2 half cup of water, and 2 tablespoons of olive oil. It called for unbleached all-purpose flour, but I used whole wheat instead. It was an experiment after all. I don't have a food processor or a rolling pin, so I mixed by hand and pressed them out by hand. They were probably a little thick, but it seemed to work out when I cooked them on the skillet. A little margarine and I had a nice bread for my meal this evening. I have a couple of pieces to try tomorrow to see what it's like the day after.

I already have some ideas for variations.

Cooking for One Again

I've said before that in the time it takes to prepare a meal for one you can prepare a meal for four. At the end of a work day it's so much easier in terms of time and energy to throw a Lean Cuisine or Smart Ones into the microwave. But it's not necessarily satisfying even though it fills your stomach.

Meals in the refectory when it's open are part of my package at the Seminary. Most days I found it possible to stay within my diet program eating in the refectory during first couple of weeks I was here. But there were occasional evenings when I took a look at the line and saw nothing I could eat or wanted to eat. Those evenings, and most evenings since commencement (the refectory isn't open between academic sessions), I ended up either going to the Cafe or off campus for many of my evening meals. Now that I have a fully functioning kitchen and everything is unpacked I can cook for myself.

This evening I fixed my first meal in the new kitchen that didn't involve throwing a frozen dinner or some instant oatmeal into the microwave. It was a simple supper of salad, a whole wheat sandwich round, and a couple of grilled bratwursts. Simple, not too long to prepare, and satisfying on many levels.

The other great thing about having a large eat-in kitchen is that I can entertain again. My last apartment was so small that it made having guests next to impossible. I'm looking forward to having my first guests in the near future and cooking for more than one.

The Yankee Isn't Alone

It's all a matter of perspective. People who live in this area who are originally from more southerly portions of the country continue to tell me this isn't the Real South. At the same people from the more northerly and westerly parts feel that we are in the South.

I will concede that this area is probably a lot less southern in its feel than it once was. Washington, DC has become an international city, something it really wasn't, even as recently as the Kennedy administration, and perhaps not even that long ago. And as with other major urban centers, that influence seeps out into its suburbs. Even so, there is a very different feel here than there is in the shadow of New York City. Politics vs. Finance? Peninsula vs. Island? North vs. South vs. Mid-Atlantic? Or some combination of all of the above.

So perhaps all of us who come to this area for whatever reason are strangers in a strange land,northerner and southerner alike.

Although, if this isn't the south, why are large stretches of Route 1 through this area called the Jefferson Davis Highway?

A Visit to Saint Christopher's

Last week my friend Kellee invited me to visit her church on Sunday. They planned to honor their graduating high school seniors, and her youngest was among them. And after two weeks, it was time to visit to another parish.

I arrived about 15 minutes early for the 10:30 service and spent the time with Bob and two of their kids. Kellee was running around checking up on things, as any good Director of Christian Formation does. Before we went in, Adam asked if I would video tape his talk, since he expected his parents would be emotional and not focus on taping. Kellee rejoined us, and we went in.

The church is primarily a half circle with another half circle that is a narthex and gathering space. The wall behind the altar opens up, which allows the two spaces to be used as one. The altar stands on a round platform surrounded by a rail. A large carved cross hangs from the ceiling below a circular piece. Whoever redesigned the lighting for the sanctuary didn't think things through. The way the lights shine on the cross and circle creates a cat mask shadow on the wall behind the altar.

It's nice to attend church with people you know. I was a visitor, but because I was with Kellee and Bob, I was pretty much left alone except by those Kellee and Bob introduced to me. As it turns out, so far attending church is the only time I get the least bit homesick. It never fails. At some point during the service at every church I've visited I've teared up. At least this Sunday I was with someone who understood.

Four of the graduating seniors spoke at sermon time. They spoke from the heart, and they it was clear that they valued their experience at St. Christopher's. For all the precaution Adam took to make sure his parents didn't have to deal with the camera, I think he cried more than Kellee did during his talk.

During announcements each of they presented each of the seniors with a large gift bag with things for their first year of college, including a prayer shawl. This is the first parish I've visited with an active prayer shawl ministry.
After the service Kellee took me on a tour of her education/formation spaces, which she shares with a preschool. It was also the day of their end-of-year cookout. I didn't stick around very long because I had plans to go to an early afternoon movie with friends.

So this may not be the parish I end up at, but it's definitely a place where I can find refuge on those Sundays, like last Sunday, when I don't feel up to the whole visitor experience.

Thanks, Kellee!

Boxes Boxes Everywhere!

The pod arrived yesterday morning, and I only happened to see the truck when I looked up while Meredith and I were working at her desk in the Welcome Center. They did call, but they called my home cell phone and not the work cell number I'd given them, so I didn't get the message until after he got the pod settled in front of Johns Hall.

Here's what greeted me when I opened the doors. You can compare it to the last picture I took before locking it up in this post (it's the second picture). Nothing shifted and the only casualty I've had so far is the plastic bin that's on top of the box and the suitcase on the left. It wasn't tied down and must have bounced on an arm of the rocking chair that punched a hole in the bottom. Everything else is in good shape. Thanks to Rachel, Lisa, Mary Beth for taking such good care of my fragile things!

Three members of the Maintenance staff helped me unload the pod and get everything up to my second floor apartment. We started at 8:10 this morning, and here's what the living room looked like at 8:45.


9:10 a.m. Empty pod.















And the living room at 9:10 a.m. Clearly not as organized as when we loaded the pod, but everything is at least in the right room. For now. I see lots of rearranging in my future.










I unpacked a couple of boxes at lunchtime. I found this when I opened one of the kitchen boxes that Rachel and Lisa packed.






I should probably go clean off the bed...

The Yankee Explains the Title

Most people get the reference. If you don't, you can read Mark Twain's novel online here, or check out the Spark Notes online here. It's been a long time since I've read the novel, so I wasn't thinking in terms of content similarities when I came up with the title. I just thought it was catchy and slightly humorous. And while it's not as alien a place and culture as Arthurian Britain would have been to a 19th Century New Englander, it's still different enough to me after 52 years in Connecticut.

One Month In

As I've said before, it took me years to unlearn the academic calendar, and now look where I am! Not only that, I came into it at the end of a school year. I spent those end-of-term weeks living in the temporary guest house, which sits near other faculty homes. And eating my most of my meals with students. For the last week I've been in my apartment, which is at the other end of campus amidst the dorms. To say it's quiet now that the spring term is over is an understatement.

But it is my apartment, and it's not like when I lived on campus without a car during my own college years. I'm slowly building a community that is separate from the Seminary. I took a break from one piece of that today. I didn't visit a church. I just didn't feel like dealing with the whole being a visitor thing. I toyed with the idea of going back to either Christ Church or St. Clement's, but in the end I decided to stay home.

Instead I lined kitchen shelves and drawers, since the pod is due tomorrow. I have to go get more, but at the moment I'm pretty sure I have more cupboards and drawers than I have dishes and utensils. And I looked at the space in my rooms to figure out where furniture will go initially and where to stack boxes for unpacking. I'm pretty sure I have more bookcases than I need, given the built-ins in the living room. I learned in my last apartment that it makes no sense to hang on to things because I might need them in the next place. It's just a waste of space, especially since the things I purged after two years in the Elmcrest Terrace apartment wouldn't have worked in this new space at all.

So here I am. New apartment. New job. New city. New state. One month isn't enough time to feel settled in any of them. It isn't even long enough to get a feel for the Seminary routine. Or to experience any real homesickness. Everything is still too new.

And that leaves a lot to explore!