1000 gifts (CSA edition)

twelve: carrots

thirteen: beets

fourteen: heirloom, cherry, & paste tomatoes

fifteen: sweet corn (barely keeping up)

sixteen: potatoes (way, way more than I know what to do with)

seventeen: cucumber

eighteen: zucchini, pattypan, & yellow squash

nineteen: green bell peppers & poblanos

twenty: basil (typing this helps me to be grateful for all the darn basil)

twenty-one: kale & chard

twenty-two: mustard greens & totchoi

twenty-three: green leaf & romaine lettuce

twenty-four: oregano & mint

twenty-five: kohlrabi

twenty-six: all that's yet to come

It was a good idea.

Food and Community

∴ What follows is a post inspired by my participation in an online book club at Simple Mom, discussing the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver. I’m truly enjoying it and learning a lot, and since it’s what’s been on my mind, I thought I’d share. However, this is the type of post, when written by someone else, that is notorious for making me feel bad about myself. Lest I seem like I’m becoming some sort of homemaker, locavore extraordinaire (or maybe I’m just flattering myself), let me say that I find this whole process to be a fun and creative outlet. It’s precisely the kind of thing that makes me feel really happy. If you happen to be less excited about tapping into your inner Martha Stewart, please don’t feel bad. If you already do, stop reading. One thing I can’t stand is green sanctimony, and I would hate to come across, you know, greener-than-thou. We’re all doing what we can, these days, to be good stewards of our bodies and the earth, but the truth is, it’s all gonna be made new in the end. There, I said it. ∴



Last week I signed up for a share in a community-supported farm, because I am ultra-chic like that.

Once a week, we will receive a half-bushel of produce grown on land only twenty minutes from our house. As this is a new venture for us, I am keeping my expectations low, but I am hoping to eat tons of fresh fruits and vegetables this summer, as well as freeze and can the surplus, so that we’ll have local produce available year-round.

We’ve been making small changes like this here and there for the last year. Some examples include buying milk in glass jars from a local dairy farm, going berry-picking, and eating meat products at only one meal per day. I’m excited about this last one, because it challenges me to practice vegetarian meals and also frees up room in the budget to buy locally and humanely-raised meat, eggs and dairy. Besides canning, I’m also looking forward to learning how to make my own bread, growing tomatoes and herbs, and figuring out some way to compost in our 800 square foot condo with no yard.

I’ve always struggled to eat healthfully, and I believe the main reason for this is that I don’t eat in a conscious way. Eating is just another thing that I need to do in the Spirit, but that’s hard when you’re either wolfing down dinner because you have no time or you’re choosing not to think about what was really in that crappy, yet convenient, meal.

Consciousness has seemed to be the major theme presenting itself, as I think about the food that my body is currently producing for my baby, as well as the food that I will very shortly feed her with a spoon. My desire is to remain unconscious about several unpleasant elements:
∴ the effect certain ingredients have on my body;
∴ the effect certain food groups (read: sugar) has on my overall mood;
∴ the truly horrific state of industrial husbandry, particularly meatpacking; and
∴ the impact of big agriculture on our local farmers and local economies.

Several books and documentaries have come out in the last few years that candidly discuss the state of food in America, and I typically don’t want to go near them with a ten-foot pole. I don’t want to know, you know? All of a sudden, though, I’m feeling a new responsibility to my daughter and to my community.

The state of the economy and our various environmental crises have had me thinking for a year or so that one of these days we’re all gonna have to move out to the country and learn to live off the land again. Either that, or everyone will cram into the cities, because it’s too expensive to drive anywhere. I keep imagining acres and acres of abandoned and burned out suburbs--basically Detroit inverted. Apparently, I am your friendly doomsday prophet.

Maybe the future doesn’t look a thing like this; I certainly hope not, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I don’t think we can control a whole lot. However, in this theory of mine, communities are going to have to come together to figure out a new way to do life. There won’t be so much self-sufficiency and isolation. This is already happening in Detroit, in fact. All those acres of burned out neighborhoods and urban prairie are being turned into community gardens and art installments. People in that city have very few places to go for affordable, healthful food or beautiful things to look at, so they create these themselves. My new passion for our little local farm and some cans of tomato sauce is connected to those city folk. I want to be apart of a community that is using resources within reach to take care of each of its members. I want to learn skills that will help me do that even in the worst of economies.

Even feigning surprise, pretending it was unexpected and saying a ritual thanks, is surely wiser than just expecting everything so carelessly.
--Barbara Kingsolver

sixteen

This "Sixteen Random Things About Oneself" meme is going around Facebook. Thought I'd post mine here as well.

1. I may be able to tell you about your personality simply by observing your hand gestures. Not always--but most of the time. I got into the science of personality (mainly Myers-Brigs) thanks to the Boese family and then again when I spent some time in counseling, where I realized that I had been trying very hard to act out of a personality that was not my own.

2. Speaking of personality, I've got quite the quagmire going on. I'm creative, but I'm not productive. Got lots of half-finished projects around here and MANY ideas trapped in my brain with little hope of release. Poor things.

3. Speaking of ideas, I'd really like to be a writer. As in, it's my job. I get paid to write.

4. Speaking of writing, I have a blog. You are welcome to view it: http://meghanlou.blogspot.com. Hey, thanks for stopping by!

5. Speaking of blogs, I've got a nasty habit. I currently have 48 sites on my blogroll. I've also recently become mildly obsessed with Twitter.

6. Speaking of nasty, I'm already sick to death of this clever little "speaking of" gimmick I was trying out.

7. If I could have my way, I would live in Lafayette Park in downtown Detroit, and once the Dequindre Cut is finished, most days I'd walk to Eastern Market or the river with Ellary in the Moby wrap or her stroller. (This life can currently be seen lived out at Sweet Juniper. Guess I'm not that creative after all).

8. Ironically, I almost have my way, considering I live on the Northside in Ann Arbor, and I walked down to the river with Ellary in the Moby wrap a couple days ago. The Farmer's Market is just a few blocks further. I LOOOOOVVVVEEEE Ann Arbor and would miss it very much if we move to Detroit.

9. I might be a feminist, but not in the traditional sense of the word. I'm not really sure. I think women are the bomb-diggity. I could talk all day about this. Sub-topics: "On the Ability of a Woman To Carry a Child Inside of Her and Then Give Birth To It," "The Importance of Women Leading Relationally In the Church," "My Beef With The Pill," "Why There's a Good Chance Any Gift You'll Get From Me Was Made By a Co-op of Refugee Widows," and "Don't Even Get Me Started On Abortion; I Am Not Happy." This will be my only controversial random. Most likely.

10. I'm a total sucker for golden retrievers, and I have a special voice for them.

11. I'm currently reading a fantasy novel by Robert Jordan and loving it. I mention this, because I am learning not to be embarrassed about it. Up till now, I am sorry to say that I have been nothing but pretentious about my literary preferences. Turns out one can let one's guard down and find joy in the pages of a hideously illustrated, shiny-gold-entitled paperback.

12. Sushi! Sushi sushi sushi! Sushiiiiiiiiii!

13. I'm on Zoloft for postpartum depression. I mention something semi-private like this because I think it's important for women to discuss what this phase of life can be like. Maybe it's because many mothers forget about the hard parts, but I don't feel that I was sufficiently warned. I'd like to be there for people who are also struggling. You go, Brooke Shields!

14. No really, my baby actually IS the cutest.

15. Most of the furniture in my home is from Ikea. It looks like a stinkin show room in here.

16. My husband handled baby duty tonight and brought me dinner in bed. You can imagine what kind of guy HE is.

northside grill

I am pumped. The Splendid Table podcast just featured Northside Grill, which we consider to be our very own neighborhood breakfast spot (it's a three-block walk); not to mention, Kevin used to work there as a short-order cook. I can personally vouch for the potato pancakes; also, if you get to know the boss pretty well, he'll come over and heckle you about being a Jesus freak. The actual podcast raved a bit more than the website did, but here's the review, along with the obligatory freaking out about Zingerman's, of course. I love Ann Arbor.

"Great breakfasts were the discovery of the Sterns' latest foray to Ann Arbor, Michigan, home of Michael's alma mater.

At the Northside Grill it was pancakes: apple oat bran with big chunks of caramelized apples that Michael ordered with a "side" of crispy-on-the-outside, creamy-on-the inside potato pancakes! Jane says spend the extra dollar or so for real maple syrup. The coffee here is fair trade organic.

At Zingerman's Next Door, which adjoins the legendary Zingerman's Delicatessen (where there are so many good things to eat it could make you dizzy), the excellent coffee is strong and the assortment of pastries will put you in a quandary. Chocolate cherry bread is unusual and delicious and the fabulous sticky buns have cherries tucked inside instead of raisins. This is Michigan, after all.

Leave room for Jane's favorite Dobos Torte, or a piece of the flaky and perfect apple strudel."

Northside Grill
1015 Broadway Street
Ann Arbor, MI
734-995-0965

Zingerman's Delicatessen and Zingerman's Next Door
422 Detroit Street
Ann Arbor, MI
734-663-3354
www.zingermansdeli.com

at which point, life changes drastically (yet again)

Wow. March 28th. That's kind of ridiculous.

But guess what? I have the best excuse ever!!

Baby Armstrong decided to make his/her presence known on April 7, after which I stopped posting, because I didn't really feel like writing about some random thing going on in my life, when the fact is: aaaaahhhhh!!! I'm having a baby!!!!

In case you interpreted that "aahh" as "Yippee, this is so exciting, and I'm experiencing maternal bliss!"--well, that's kind of true to a certain degree, but it's also: "Wow, I feel like crap and I want to sleep all the time, and this is not what I was planning for my life, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it."

In reality, the last three months of my life have been some of the hardest ever. Since finding out, we 1) had to go to the ER, got diagnosed with a "high risk" pregnancy (which later turned out to be a mis-diagnosis), 2) went to Kenya for two weeks, which consisted of me spending most of the time on the couch and/or losing my mind, 3) left three days after our return from Kenya for LT in Virginia Beach, and 4) got adjusted to the violent mood swings, nausea, cravings for ranch dressing, and extreme fatigue of a pregnant woman in her first trimester. Whoa.

Life has leveled out significantly, and I am now one excited mama. I've been feeling the baby move for the first time this week, which is nuts! I am now at the beginning of the 17th week, and here is a photo for your viewing pleasure, taken right before heading off to a sweet fireworks show (there were local and professional shows up and down the beach, so it felt like we were actually in the middle of the fireworks). I'm not actually this big all the time, but we had just eaten a crazy good meal, ala Bobby Flay (Kevin's new muse).






Hey there, little person.

hope week

I'm sensing that change is in the wind.

Last semester, I felt slumped over. I think a lot of people felt that way. I wasn't praying very much, and I know that didn't set any sort of good example for the people I was leading. To be honest, I didn't want to work hard, and then I felt bad about myself for not wanting to work hard, and then that de-motivated me even more. I struggled to connect with God consistently and emotionally.

This week made me sit up and take notice. God is moving. I know my heart is returning to the bottom line about why I'm doing what I'm doing.

Monday was Kyle C's birthday, and we welcomed him to staff meeting with a tunnel and cheers. We love each other. A lot. Then we worshiped together. Then Shah gave us some thoughts he's had lately about the culture of American college life. All of us, including him, saw ourselves in what he described--the self-absorbed performance mentality, materialism and drive to be entertained. It was humbling and insightful, and I felt convicted. But I didn't feel alone. We're broken, but we're in this together.

Tuesday afternoon, Melissa and I went to Caribou and talked about how life changes so quickly in campus ministry and how "the shuffle" is hard. People we love are gone in four years. Everybody's busy and it's hard to keep in touch. Deep relationships tend to be very seasonal. Later we met up with Chris, Kyle and Shah to talk about the two North Campus New Life Teams (one led by Chris and me, the other by Kyle and Melissa). Chris really encouraged me after I talked about how part of me is still wondering if what I'm doing is "worth it." He pointed out where I've made a difference--mostly places that I didn't ever notice. Then the five of us watched footage from the Willow Creek Leadership Summit 2006 of a line of people holding up cards. On the front, each person had written what their life was like before Christ had transformed it. Then as they walked to the front of the stage, they flipped their card to show what their life is like now that they know Jesus. I cried. We're talking about doing something similar at our building dedication service.

Tuesday night I had lifegroup with Carly, and we talked about how Jesus "set out resolutely" for Jerusalem to accomplish His main goal on the earth, to die for us. I was wondering what the five of us were going to set out resolutely to do this semester as a lifegroup. As we talked, it became clear that all three of the younger girls are struggling with deep questions about the trustworthiness of God. Why do Christians suffer? One of the girls lost nine family members over a period of four months. Why do bad things happen to morally good people? The bottom line: is God good? Is He just?

He is so good. He is the God of justice.

Tuesday night there were around thirty of us in a room in Bursley, calling out to God and praising Him like I haven't heard in a long time. There is a song on the newest Hillsong album "Mighty to Save" called "Higher." There is a bridge where all the men sing: "He is so great and waiting to be praised by you." This is what I want for the people on North Campus--the ability to worship the God of the universe.

Wednesday I allot four hours to spend time with God. Usually it's a rough time for me. I always get intensely drowsy, perhaps because it's the only time during the day that I'm not really DOING something. I struggle with staying attentive in prayer or whatever it is I'm attempting to do. I feel weak. This time I fell asleep for one of the four hours, but then I woke up and read Romans 8-11. After reading the part about God foreknowing me, predestining me, calling me, justifying me and glorifying me, I started to ask the question: is God good? Is He just? Why are some chosen and others not?

You know how Paul always reads your mind? Romans 9:19-21 "One of you will still say to me: 'Then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?' But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? "Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?"' Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?" and Romans 11:33-36 "Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! 'Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?' 'Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?' For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." I'm becoming more and more convinced that belief in God and His goodness is my only option. Not because I can't bear the thought of anything else, but because I am the creation. I know nothing. Am I too simplistic? Is my faith unreasonable?

The girls in my lifegroup need to worship the God of the universe.

Thursday I went to BSF with Gaia, and we studied Romans 9:1-5. The only thing I can say is that I marvel at God's commitment to the Jews, and I cannot fathom the day when the deliverer will turn godlessness away from Zion.

Friday morning, Kevin, Hilary and I brainstormed and prayed about something that's been on Kevin's heart for a long time. Street kids in Africa (and elsewhere, I'm guessing) are constantly hungry, so they steal or trade for cobbler's glue, which they sniff to get a high that will stem the hunger pangs. After awhile, many of them choose glue over food, and their brains, due to the chemicals they're taking in, lose much of their function. They're lives are over by their teen years. The question on the table is: could this become a cause for New Life Church? So many now know about Darfur, child soldiers, and conflict diamonds. Those issues are perhaps bigger. But could we find an activist niche for our church? Could we work with Elmers and other glue companies to work against this problem? We're naive, and really, it's just the three of us. But I'm learning to love more and more the simple posture of prayer at the foot of the sheer rock face of injustice. We'll see what happens. Perhaps LIFE will happen.

Last night, Kevin and I got Vietnamese food, and we talked, and I feel stunned by how good he is to me.

This morning, Saturday, there's a lot to do, but I finally made my bed and watered my plants, and I feel hopeful.

christmas break

I’m finally adding an entry to this blog, which I so ambitiously began by telling everyone I’d write every week. Laughable, I must say.

Anyway, here’s another go. I’m in Colorado now and will manage to be here a whole week, which is much longer than I would have thought this time seven days ago. The original plan was to fly out on December 20, for pre, mid, and post-Christmas chilled-out-ness in good old Monument. Then yesterday we were supposed to leave for a road trip to LA for New Years, via Durango and the Grand Canyon (which I’ve never seen). Both plans were cruelly foiled by back-to-back blizzards of “Monumental” proportions (we like to call the Crowley house the epicenter of said storms—it seems as if the clouds prefer to hover over us for days on end).


You can imagine my angst when I discovered that my flight home from Michigan was cancelled and could only be rescheduled for Christmas Eve. With the road trip plans looming, that would give me a total of three days at my lovely Christmasy, mountainous house. I kept thinking about how Christmas would be over before it had even officially begun!

I lugged my snowboard along with me on the plane on Christmas Eve, praying I’d get to use it in Durango for a day. By the time the day after Christmas rolled around, it was clear there was another storm on the way, and everybody seemed pretty content with flying to California, instead of driving. We took an emergency trip up to Winter Park, to get our snowboards some use, and proceeded to sit in traffic for way too long. Not to mention, I had some of the worst altitude sickness I’ve had that day, so it was not quite what I’d hoped.

Nonetheless, I felt a lot of the tension drain right out of me the minute I knew I’d get to rest at home for awhile before New Years. It’s been really quiet around here, thanks to Blizzard 2006 Part II (the most eventful thing that happened was a UPS truck getting stuck in our driveway), and I’ve done some snowshoeing, some cooking, and some watching of good movies. But I’ve also had a chance to realize that my holiday priorities and perspectives have changed drastically as a result of this very strange week and a half. I’m starting to think that God used the minor catastrophe of being stranded in Ann Arbor to help me finally enjoy the holidays for once. I’ve had some good Christmases in my day, but for the most part, as is the case with most much loved aspects of life, I’m always anxious about making sure to enjoy this while it lasts. There is always this panicky urgency to have the perfect Christmas ever. What the heck IS that? It must be common enough, since they’ve made a bunch of movies about that feeling. Anyway, this is so me. In my frenzied desire to enjoy life, I completely miss the bus and end up mourning my lost opportunities to enjoy life. That angst that I felt about missing Christmas altogether? I’m looking at that now thinking that I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. I’m that much more grateful to be here at all, and I’m that much more open to seeing the blessings that are mine.

For one thing, I got to spend four days of my Christmas vacation with Kevin, which was definitely an unexpected and awesome blessing. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye in the first place. Now I'm missing him terribly.

So this has been a really good holiday, if only because it was hard to come by. I’ve gotten lots of unexpected rest and a chance to recoup from a rather difficult December.

Jenni asked about our most treasured gifts this week:

1) chef’s knife and paring knife by Wusthof from Kevin (I’d been wanting new knives but never said a word about it) and a postcard of a little girl hanging her head over the end of a dock
2) wooden salad bowl, perfect for salads for two, from my Dad
3) Little Miss Sunshine from Evan
4) one of those heatable/chillable body wraps with eucalyptus and mint from my Mom, for relief of stress and other, errr, discomfort
5) rest, much needed but rarely truly gotten, from Jesus. Thank you.

inaugural blog

In the name of second (or third or fourth) chances, I'm sticking with blogger despite its being completely IMPOSSIBLE! I don't know why it's been such a nightmare for me to even log in. Nevertheless, this blog was one I created six months ago but could never find again, which suddenly popped up when I was trying to find my new blog! grrr. Anyway, this entry was written on November 12, and i'm giving this whole blog thing another try:

My friend Linn writes her “dear ones” letters from Africa, maybe every other week. They are zesty, like orange peel. Like the Food Network. What I mean is: I just can’t get enough. Every time I get that special email from Linn, I just have to sit back and get cozy, even if that means pushing something else back in the schedule. I’ve been to her home in Africa, so maybe that’s why I can picture everything she describes. But really, she’s just got a way with words. She’s got a way with life. And, as is the case with the rest of the things she dedicates time to, her letters inspire me. She also has a blog.

Let it be known: I LOVE BLOGS! I think they are fabulous, and I use to have a blog all last year, but I was sheepish about it and kept it under wraps for the most part. Now I am unashamed. I am an avid reader of several blogs, and despite the fact that I am generally wretched at maintaining relationships that are not right under my nose, I feel like I know (at least a little of) what is going on in people’s lives via their entries. Not to mention that I DO love to write, and I have been noticing lately that there is a tug in my heart to return to that part of myself that creates. I haven’t been there in awhile.

Life is very very busy these days, almost to the point that I am becoming dissatisfied with the state of things. I would like to try to set aside time every week or so, maybe Saturday mornings, to just sit and reflect on what has gone on, really take it in, so that I don’t feel like my life is passing me by. I’ve noticed that one of my deepest desires is to live life with that zest, taking time to recognize that it’s happening.

Some things you should know about my life right now, since I’ll probably be writing about them:

1) I have a boyfriend of 3-ish months named Kevin. What I know for now is that being with him is just plain right.


2) The primary focus of my work is on North Campus at the University of Michigan. I lead a “New Life Team” with a guy named Chris, and it’s essentially a little church based on geography inside of the larger 900-person congregation called New Life Church. Many people wonder, either to themselves or aloud, what I do all day. Perhaps this blog will shed some light.

3) I currently live in the coziest, loveliest apartment ever, complete with chili pepper lights hanging in the enormous kitchen, cushy carpet, a giant whiteboard for leaving messages, and a little walled-in patio with trees overhanging (October was so nice—red leaves, two pots of mums, yellow and burgundy, given to me as [perfect!] gifts, a lounge chair and side table, and a carved white pumpkin). My roommate’s name is Jen, and we share our apartment with two other girls named Shawn and Natalie, all of us U of M grads and working full-time. The best part is that our complex backs up to Trader Joe’s. Sometimes I need bananas or something, so I take a quick walk over and come back with some…plus avocados. Always avocados.

4) I’ve been asking God, rather timidly, for a softer heart. For some reason, I have this desire to cry more, perhaps because that will help me know that I am capable of real compassion. Not that crying equals compassion. But there is a lot of suffering and a lot of beauty in the world, and sometimes they affect me like a country I’ve never cared about, Luxembourg, say--that is, they affect me hardly at all.

As I was writing this, I wondered if I were just trying to make myself feel like I have an interesting life. The truth of the matter is that I do indeed have an interesting life, but I don’t appreciate it enough. I think that taking the time to write about it will bear witness to the fact that I am blessed.