AfricanKelli

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Three lap quilts made with African fabric scraps and backed with cordouroy :: Each quilt has at least 50 pieces, symbolizing jubilee :: Gifts to celebrate weddings and friendship.

~K

I have been hoarding essays lately, trying to figure out the best way to wax poetic about the latest happy happenings. Instead, how about some photos of cookies and scattered reminiscing?

Gingersnaps are my favorite cookie, without a doubt. I like them stale, with cold milk. I like them warm, with hot tea. I like them small, big, lumpy, covered with crystallized ginger and even the chocolate variety. I am not alone in my love of the gingersnap. My mother — who would buy bags when grocery shopping with her children and allow us to eat them from the cart (before paying! The rebel! We were shocked. And far too excited we were all going to be caught and thrown out.), and Rebilou are also fanatics of the baked good.

So, imagine my delight when I realized my latest knitting project is just the same hue of gingery rust orange. Snap!

This scarf is one of many holiday projects and the details are being kept under lock and key. However, may I instead offer you details about the wildly fabulous Barbara Kingsolver and her new novel, “The Lacuna?”

Did I mention I met Ms. Kingsolver (along with 100 other people in a busy auditorium) last week and managed to ask her a question that made her laugh? Did I also mention that the first 50 pages of “The Lacuna” are heavy and the interviews I heard with Barbara beforehand had me nervous my 12 years of dedicated worship were misplaced? She was just so serious and I was sincerely worried the biologist from Tucson who wrote “Animal Dreams” and “The Poisonwood Bible” had been eaten up by the now super succesful Kentucky best selling author.

Good news. I was wrong. In person? She is witty, funny, tall, slightly awkward and really down to earth. She read her book excerpts with passion and with a faux Mexican accent that made me giggle a bit.  She took questions from the audience and deflected silly comments with such grace, everyone was laughing. Also, the book picks up speed quickly and is becoming one of my favorites. I’m having a hard time balancing my daily activities with my hunger for being on the couch, deep in the story of an American boy growing up in Mexico. Of course, that American boy is living in central Mexico and goes to work for Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera.

The dialog is exceptionally good and the manner of telling the story is wonderful. I am inhaling this book, not unlike the way those cookies above quickly disappeared.

The other essays go a bit like this: there are the three quilts waiting for binding, Thanksgiving correspondence in need of stamps, holiday baking planned, an apron to give away thanks to all of your lovely comments, and a community garden begging to be replanted. Also, my Botswanan squash are growing up the side of my house and into my front door. My little home is beginning to resemble a fairy tale. Everyone keeps saying “prune” but the vines are so pretty.

Oh — and that apron. Congrats luck #21,  Candace!

~K

This weekend, theologian Matthew Fox came to lead a three-day series of workshops and lectures at my church. Now, before you stop reading because I used the words “theologian” and “church,” I promise this isn’t going to be some heavy-handed religious post. I was interested to hear Matt speak because my minister and good friend, Jeff, loves him. To be honest, the only other people I’ve heard Jeff refer to with such deference are: the Beatles, U2, and this other Irish dude who lives on the Isle of Man, John Bell. So, I was fascinated to meet someone Jeff refers to as a modern day prophet.

For me, no surprise, that person is Jeff. He has been my teacher since I was in 8th grade. I’m tickled pink we are such good friends today.

I missed Friday night’s lecture for the flopped dinner party, but attended 7 hours of lecture and workshops Saturday. Matt has written a book called, “Creativity,” among many others. The workshops were art-inspired, including mural making, mosaic, prose, etc. I led one on community gardening that was a lot of fun. After observing him on Saturday with such rapt attention, I was beginning to see why he draws such a crowd. He emphasized compassion repeatedly and talked about how being comfortable with silence is critical to hearing and appreciating the Holy Spirit. What he had to say resonated. I was truly looking forward to the sermon on Sunday.

Fast forward 18 hours and you can imagine my dismay when Matt stood to speak about “Jesus in 2009,” and spent the next half an hour pointing out the injustices in our society. He had four pages of yellow paper that he read bullet points from. They included things like, “Jesus is in the homeless man at the central Phoenix church who no longer receives a free meal because the neighborhood is up in arms,” etc. Four pages. 30 minutes. And a lot of anger.

Matt was defrocked by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI) for believing in original blessing vs. original sin. I’m summarizing greatly, but essentially decades of work as a priest were ground to a halt over a difference of dogma, which today manifests in Matt’s work with a bit of an angry edge. Not bitter necessarily, but you could certainly tell by this sermon that he was less than pleased to have been so publicly embarrassed.

His list of errs in our society got me thinking about the way I see Jesus in 2009. (This is where this post may get a little heavy-handed, fyi. But you are this far, so why not stick around?)

In contrast to all that is wrong with Phoenix, Arizona, the United States, the earth and universe — here are a few ways I see Christ as the embodiment of love, compassion, hope and light alive and well today:

Ginny Hildebrand has led the Association of Arizona Food Banks for decades with limited to no recognition. It really is thanks to her incredible patience, hard work and willingness to stick with her mission that thousands of Arizonans get enough to eat daily. She answers phones late at night to make sure hungry mothers get food boxes (no exaggeration), travels to Washington DC regularly to get our congress people to pay attention to the wide swaths of rural Arizona with very hungry folk, and blushes when you thank her. She is selfless and my community is better for it.

Randy Yavitz is a lawyer who has 4 acres he gardens in central Phoenix. Last year he donated thousands of pounds of produce to the food banks because using the land for good makes sense. He works two hours in his garden each morning before he goes to work a full day to make sure this happens. He is generous and my community is better for it.

The 1700 folks who walked the Breast Cancer 3-day this weekend and raised gobs of money for mammograms, research and treatment. You are warriors for change and my community is better for it.

Sam Richard, who is the most effective networker I have ever met, is the future of Phoenix. He writes about a dozen blogs, lobbies, pickets, volunteers and pushes us all to get going toward social change. He knows how to rally a neighborhood and work through politics to see things improve. I can tell as his friend that he so desperately wants Phoenix to be more socially progressive and he’s willing to work at it 18 hours a day.  He does so with very little thanks.  He is tireless and my community is better for it.

There is a little boy at my church, one of a dozen children from same-sex partnerships, who had the courage to stand up on Mother’s Day and thank both of his mommies for their love. He is brave and my community is better for it.

I see the light of Christ in my friends who are parents and sacrifice everything — at times including their sanity — to be their very best for their families. In the environmentalists in town who take the bus and the light rail and their bikes even though it means an extra hour each day commuting. In the folks who work at the animal rescue and humane societies, praying today will be the day their nurture pays off with adopted pets. In the man who waits to hold a door open for the next person, the woman who donates her work clothes for homeless women starting over, in children who share, in the Valley Interfaith Project that brings together leaders from many dogma to work together for the betterment of all.

Life is a matter of perspective; my life is full of gratitude, incredible people who inspire, love and compassion. I’d guess Jesus is pissed there are people standing in front of a church, hungry and in need with government standing in the way of their next meal. I’d also guess Jesus in 2009 is an optimist who smiles at the good and hopes there are enough people fueled by love to get motivated.

Sounds like it’s time to call Sam and rally the troops.

~K

I like that the word kismet begins with a kis and ends with a met — okay, that is Zach Galifianakis-inspired. Regardless, I had a kismet kind of day and am feeling invigorated. Lots of great happenings professionally and personally. I have had several friends say in the last month, “Wow! Everything is coming together, huh?”

And to be fair, one of the most insignificant and yet happiest things to have happened is that I RULED at bowling on Saturday. Ruled by my standards, that is. I scored 130, 140, and 100. I usually hover in the 80s, so this was remarkable.

(Dude. I abide.)

Yes, I have just become that suburban 30-something who brags about her bowling score on her blog. Pretty sure I could rename this Africancliche.

And thanks for your kooky stories yesterday. You cracked me up and really cheered me on. I’m glad to see I’m not alone in my perfectionist tendencies, but also glad to see we can all laugh at ourselves too.

“My dad always said we were lucky to have Galifianakis as a last name. It starts with a gal and ends with a kiss. …”

~K

You are familiar with Murphy’s law. And perhaps even my friend Adam’s law. (“Some people say, ‘You make your own luck.’ Most of those people are pretentious assbags.”) This weekend I finally figured out my very own.

Kelli’s law goes a bit something like this: over-think the task at hand, create lists and schedules and completely stress yourself out when these don’t fall into place as planned, reject all compliments given concerning the final project because in your mind it wasn’t 100%, and call the entire thing a failure. Regardless, the majority of those around you have no clue you are so upset — otherwise, you’d be adding that guilt to your plate too.  Instead, be the whiny martyr and smile through your aggravation only to blog about it later.

My parents are in town. I’ve been excited about their visit for weeks and invited some of our closest family friends over for dinner Friday night. Of course, my parents wanted to go out and I wouldn’t hear of it. So I took Friday off from work and spent the morning shopping, chopping, cooking, cleaning and planning. These are not chores in my mind; I am my happiest in the domestic habitat.

The meal included pesto and olives on baguettes with wine for an appetizer, chicken parmigiana and creamy pumpkin pasta and spinach salad for the main course, and spicy mexican brownies for dessert.

We sat on the patio under the stars and ate by candlelight. Decanters of wine flowed and the conversation was plentiful. And while I wish I could relax a bit and admit I pulled this off, I can’t. I wish the food had been warmer, the linens on the table had matched and a few other things had gone the way I’d planned. I fully recognize I’m letting my perfectionist tendencies ruin what was otherwise considered a great night, but alas, that is why this is Kelli’s law.

Happy customers: my papi, Martha, my mami, Martha Jr., and Alberto.

Every drive yourself crazy with your own kooky behavior? I’d love to hear them. Leave a comment and I’ll pick one for a Thanksgiving apron later this week.

~K