bookish: bread & wine

There are so many reasons why I love being a part of a book club.
Finding books that I love that I may never have read, hearing other people's perspectives, meeting for breakfast, discovering new friendships. It all boils down to the fellowship, and being able to share a piece of literature and bond over it. To hear thoughts and critiques and favorites, things I didn't consider or catch on my own. Words touch people and trickle into their hearts and minds in different ways, and to have the privilege of being exposed to those differences is one of the best parts of group discussion.

So when all of that is combined with home-cooking and new recipes, I am so there. 

This month we picked up Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table with Recipes, by Shauna Niequist.
I loved this book with a simplicity that doesn't often come to me. It was one of those books that I just drank up, like reading a heartfelt letter from a close friend or having a wonderful conversation on the phone for hours and hours.
(Although, honestly, I hate talking on the phone. So that metaphor is for normal people.)

We had decided on reading Bread & Wine after our friend Russanna reached out to Shauna Niequist, requesting a handful of copies for our book club to read, discuss, review and blog about. She explained that we all love to read (obviously), and our book club is made up of college students and stay-at-home mothers and the like... and Zondervan replied, and very generously provided us with free copies of the book!
It was such an exciting thing for us, since most (if not all) would probably not be able to purchase the book otherwise. But I absolutely love having my very own copy of it, rather than borrowing it from the library - a copy I can touch, highlight, page-bend and bookmark and cover in crumbs.
So a very, very special thank you to Zondervan for sponsoring this month's book club!

We each chose a recipe to make, and gathered on a Saturday morning (today) to try them and talk about the book. I chose to make the bacon-wrapped dates, which happened to be filled with heaven's most scrumptious delight, goat cheese.
Shauna (in my head we're friends, so I'm just gonna first-name her) loves goat cheese. Like, a lot. And for that reason alone, I love her.

She even confesses that these dates may sound like a terrible idea, but just stick with her - "perfect these little numbers, and people will be happy every time you walk in to a party. It's like holding a puppy or a baby - suddenly you become irresistible, which is a great feeling, even if it's just because you're carrying bacon."

This month it was just four of us, so it was cozy with warm coffee mugs in our hands and little plates full of treats.
The four recipes we tried were the Gaia Cookies, Goat Cheese Biscuits, Bacon-Wrapped Dates, and Robin's Super-Healthy Lentil Soup.

We gathered at Russanna's house, and munched away while we shared our thoughts. All of the recipes were delicious, and we enjoyed them all, as well as talking about other ones we've tried or would like to try.

This book is honest and thoughtful - vibrant and sensory, good enough to taste.
Little life excerpts mixed with meaningful recipes in times of joy, trial, fellowship and loneliness.
It all boils down to living life around the table. How sharing your home and sharing a meal can so easily strip down the walls of humankind, bring everyone to a clean slate, an equal sitting.
How food can be sacred; how food and fellowship can nourish on every level.
She shares stories of life-defining moments, relationships that last, flurries of beautiful images of fragrant cooking and fancy dinner parties.

One of our book club members brought up an interesting question (via print-out, read by Tess, since the author Emily couldn't be there). Is time around the table any less sacred with a Foreman Grill in a dorm room? In essence, how beautiful does the food have to be for the experience to be beautiful? Does the beauty still apply to the simple endeavors, the non-extravagant meals, the mismatched everyday budget-friendly dinners?
I think the answer is yes, yes. Of course. Because Shauna definitely lives a life that is strange and foreign to many of us. Fresh cheeses and nuts and 5-course meals, extravagant parties with menus and place cards and dessert and fancy dishware, flower arrangements and candles. That is so not my weekend dinner etiquette. Try paper plates and pizza delivery.
The point (and I hope Shauna would agree) is to open yourself and your home. To live a life of openness and hospitality. The author's messages on the book cover put forth her hopes for her readers in a simple way:

"My prayer is that...it will become battered and stained as you cook and chop and play, music loud and kitchen messy. And more than anything, I hope that when you put this book down, you'll gather the people you love around your table to eat and drink, to tell stories, to be heard and fed and nourished on every level."

And then,

"This is what I want you to do: tell someone you love them, and that dinner's at six."

Our everyday life is full of sensory experiences. Things we can easily overlook or forget to appreciate. There are also an endless string of excuses not to open your home - not to be vulnerable, because your house is too small or not fancy enough or is too messy, your cooking isn't good enough or whatever else.

This book brought me back to life, in a way. Not that I was depressed or dead inside, really, but...when I was first married, there were many things that I was excited about. Cooking, decorating, setting up our home, having people over. Being creative.
Over time these things have been pushed to the side in favor of laziness. It's hard to admit, but it's true. Eating out, fast food, quick meals. Cheap, easy, fast, unhealthy. I forgot that I love to cook and experiment, and forgot that I loved the feeling of making a home-cooked meal, even for just the two of us.
This book awakened that desire to cook again, and I couldn't put it down. 

Some reviews of this book took the stance that Shauna is unrelatable, living an extravagant life that only speaks to a tiny percentage of people. She's exclusive...she should expand to include other communities. Her writing only speaks to the upper-class, white, female, married, Christian, blah blah.

I disagree with that. Completely. I found this book to be a blog, a diary - a glimpse into her life. These are her life excerpts. How and why should she write about anything else other than her experiences, in a book about her life and memories?

On the whole, I connected with her because her stories are about passions we all feel and experience. The enjoyment of food, the love of people and relationships, the heartbreaks, the pain of sadness, the joy of family and belonging. She talks about love, faith, sanctuary. Companionship, scripture, feasting, fasting. It's there and it's lovely and compelling, it's personal. 

I found myself reading out sections to my husband, sharing some of my favorite quotes and passages, things I feel I could go back and read again and again. She tops off most chapters with a recipe, often sharing the back story of why it's included in that section, and how it nourished her in a time of joy or need. 

One of my favorite sections is about travel. She talks about how she traveled with her father in junior high and high school, exploring Spain, France, Germany, India, Australia...definitely something most of us have not and may never experience. 

Even so, I love her perspective on the treasures of travel and experiencing other cultures. 

"Now, it seems, it's entirely possible to travel without tasting a new culture, should you desire to do so. There's a McDonald's practically everywhere..."

Cue guilt, since Dusty and I most definitely had McDonald's in Paris. 

"...[my dad] taught me that wherever we are, we eat what they eat, and we eat what they give us, all the time...as we traveled, food became a language for understanding..."

Dusty and I love to travel, it's at the very top of our priority list. Many people don't travel often, especially when they start having children, because of finances or other priorities. I think it's a decision that everyone makes for their own family; where to spend time, what to spend money on. For us, I hope we'll always travel, children in tow, saving and experiencing new things at every opportunity. Even if my life is much different than I plan on and imagine, her words still resonated with me in a powerful way.

"I hold all these places and flavors with me, like a fistful of shiny coins, like a charm bracelet. I want to be everywhere at once. I want a full English breakfast in a pub in London, a hot buttery naan in New Delhi for lunch...I want it all -- all the tastes, all the smells, all the stories and memories and traditions, all the textures and flavors and experiences, all running down my chin, all over my fingers."

"...people ask me why I travel so much, and specifically why we travel with Henry so often (her son)...we travel because it's there. Because Capri exists and Kenya exists and Tel Aviv exists, and I want to taste every bite of it. We travel because I want my kids to learn... I want my kids to learn firsthand and up close that different isn't bad, but instead that different is exciting and wonderful and worth taking the time to understand. I want them to see themselves as bit players in a huge, sweeping, beautiful play, not as the main characters in the drama of our living room."

In another chapter, she touches on the fact that her and her husband remind each other that their kids aren't their vanity projects. They're his parents, not his marketing team. Each son is a person, not a paper doll. I loved this - even without having children of my own, the idea and the reminder is important and applies to so many other parents and children that I know. It's so easy to get caught up. 

I could probably go on and on about this book. I think I'll stop, but I recommend you curl up on a weekend and devour this like I did. Stay in your pajamas and enjoy. Read the words of an honest woman, talking about her passions and her struggles and her lifelong romance with food and faith and life around the table.
I promise you won't regret it.

the cold summer

I've been a little bit of a bloggy failure as of late.
I've had all sorts of fun mini adventures and have tons of pictures as proof of my activity, and somewhere along the line I got overwhelmed and every day I think I might blog, I end up not blogging, and letting more and more adventures pile up without sharing them.
Sometimes I think it's nice to just let adventures be a secret.
That being said, I still haven't even blogged about our last day in Paris! Like. 4 months ago. Yikes.

Besides that, I need to tell you about Cleveland, about saying bye to my brother, about the drive back and getting back to life in an empty apartment. Funny how two adults and two cats in a teensy apartment can feel "empty" after having the warmth of family there.
I need to tell you about being homesick and going out on date nights to reconnect, about starting the new season of The Bachelorette because we're just those kinds of people.
About starting the fabulous summer tradition of playing beach volleyball with our friends, about Lynchburg Restaurant Week and beer cheese soup and how our life group at church is doing, and about having one of my lifelong friends come and visit for a week.
I certainly need to tell you that my lavender latte is alive and well and that I made a bacon-wrapped, blue-cheese topped grilled peach that changed my life.
I need to tell you about the fourth of july and about the amazing weather and about listening to a book on tape with the windows down, and about our amazing trip this weekend to Richmond that was full of childish glee on roller coasters and dancing to music and eating ice cream and eating a fancy dinner in a movie theater. About how Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist is lovely and all of you lady loves of my heart need to read it.
I feel far away from you all because you don't know any of this very vital information.

For now all I'll really say is that this summer couldn't be more different than last summer.
Last summer we went home in late June, came back to Virginia and it was stifling hot, we almost died in Washington D.C., we had an endless string of family visitors, we went on an amazing cruise, to Jamaica and the Cayman Islands, and ended with Disney World and Harry Potter world...

This summer, we went home in May, had all of our visitors come and go before July, and it has been steadily rainy/stormy/in the 80's all summer long.
Yesterday it was 84 degrees and I wore a sweater. Today is overcast and 70 degrees and I'm wearing long sleeves and wishing I had worn socks because my office is even chillier.
The weather forecast is cloudy and thunderstormy until further notice.

Dusty and I often refer to last summer as the best summer of our lives. He even had t-shirts made for us at the end of it, because it was one of those rare moments when we actually knew we were living the golden days and cherished it appropriately.

This summer is so different that it's hard not to compare and say, "What the heck are we doing in this cold summer? Get us back to Summer Tweeeeelve!"
It's an oxymoron, really. Cold summer. Psh.
But the grass is always greener, and blah blah cliches, and we've chosen to absolutely enjoy the beautiful weather. Because how can anyone be upset about 70 degrees in July?
We play volleyball with our friends, the gorgeous breezes and sunsets as our natural accessories, and find other ways to cook dinner besides our go-to summer grilling when the week is full of rain.
Summer Treize (every summer has to have a nickname, amiright?) is turning out to be mighty fine.
Now we'll just pray that August doesn't sneak up on us, roasting and killing us with belated heat.

The bottom line is, to bequote my new BFF Bread & Wine, 

It seems like most of the things we try to make profound never are, 

lost in our insistence and fretting and posing. When we want something to be momentous, it rarely is.

Life is disobedient in that way, insisting on surprising us with its magic, 

stubbornly unwilling to be glittery on command. 

I have a love/hate relationship with that quote. It boths speaks to me and slaps me in the face, because I do that all the time. Oh, everybody pose! Everybody look happy! This party has to be the best ever...this summer has to be like Summer Tweeeeelve. Pout, stomp, fist-shake: why isn't this perfectly the way I envisioned?

I'm sure I'm not the only one with control issues. I didn't think I had control issues until recently, so coming to the realization that I have a whole new giant flaw is upsetting in and of itself. 

Let's make a toast to summer, and not just this summer, but every summer, every season. 

Cheers to letting go and enjoying the ruined plans, the bits and pieces, the chaos that makes life all the merrier. 

Life is just better with toasts and cheers. 

bookish: the remains of the day

I have really loved being a part of a book club this year.
Every month, a book is chosen and a small but formidable group of us gathers together in a cozy bookshop to discuss it. I have to say, it has become one of the highlights of my month - even though I usually just sit back, eat some breakfast, drink my coffee and listen.
We have recently had to decide on a new meeting place for our gatherings, because our bookshop/coffee shop is closing down on Saturday...
But that's another sad story for another day.

I have met some really smart, amazing people through this group. I've also read some books I never would have picked up otherwise (or probably even heard of).

This month's pick was The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro.
While I enjoyed reading it, I think the true secret passion of this story lies in what is not said.
And the more time I spend away from it, having finished it, the more the story touches me.
It's a slow but deliberate realization, how beautiful but tragic this book is.

It is told entirely from the perspective of Mr. Stevens, the butler of a grand English house called Darlington Hall.
He finds himself facing a motoring trip around the English countryside, which is highly unusual for him, having dedicated most of his life to serving at the house, never having cause to leave it.
The house is now owned by an American gentleman, but the majority of the story is focused on Mr. Stevens' memories revolving around his many years serving Lord Darlington.

World War, politics, powerful leaders, rumors, Jewish oppression, Nazi support, and how to serve a proper dinner are things Mr. Stevens is confronted with throughout his life service to Lord Darlington.
Through it all, he is loyal, steadfast, and an absolute professional.

I found Mr. Stevens to be a fascinating person. He spends pages upon pages ruminating on the ideals of a truly great butler, and what qualities he may possess. He also seeks the true definition of "dignity", and wonders if that is exactly the kind of quality a great butler must have.
Some of his inner musings were really quite moving. I turned down the corner of a few pages, to remember the parts that particularly drew me in.
I loved the way he would talk about the English countryside, being in the presence of true greatness, and then compare that same greatness to how you might feel in the presence of a great man, like his father.
I began to see the trend of relationships he had enjoyed, but invariably lost.
With his colleague Mr. Graham, who he spoke of fondly and often in the beginning, and most especially Miss Kenton, the housekeeper at Darlington Hall and perhaps his closest friend.

But what is the sense in forever speculating what might have happened had such and such a moment turned out differently?

One could presumably drive oneself to distraction in this way...

Naturally, when one looks back to such instances today, 

they may indeed take the appearance of being crucial, precious moments in one's life; 

but of course, at the time, this was not the impression one had.

Rather, it was as though one had available a never-ending number of days, months, years in which to sort out the vagaries of one's relationship with Miss Kenton...

There was surely nothing to indicate at the time that such evidently small incidents would render whole dreams forever irredeemable.

What a powerful, tragic, and completely accurate depiction of life and relationships. 

Everything is clearer in hindsight, right? 

When we are young we are invincible. We do not dwell on endings, only beginnings. We have the whole world ahead of us, our whole lives -- and with such carelessness the world slips right through our fingers.

On a happier note, Mr. Stevens references the fact that he is consistently troubled by his lack of bantering skill with his new American employer.

He is extremely stressed that he cannot joke quickly or easily, and has never carried on a bantering relationship.

He listens to the radio, reads books, in order to try and better his bantering skills.

For such a professional Englishman, it is funny, sweet and a little sad to see him try.

Observing strangers on a pier, he thinks to himself:

Listening to them now, I can hear them exchanging one bantering remark after another. 

It is, I would suppose, the way many people like to proceed. 

Perhaps it is indeed time I began to look at this whole matter of bantering more enthusiastically.

After all, when one thinks about it, it is not such a foolish thing to indulge in -- particularly if it is the case that in bantering lies the key to human warmth.

There you are, Mr. Stevens. Quite right, indeed.

Perhaps human warmth is the heart of the matter all along. 

In love and warmth,

Cait

P.S. If you read The Remains of the Day, please let me know what you think! :)

I plan to watch the highly acclaimed 1993 movie soon, as well. 

How to Ruin Your Life

I work in a University library, in the Interlibrary Loan Department.
I process book requests for other libraries, find them in our own stacks, and then package and ship them out.
I also am in charge of the "POD" books. That is, "Purchase on Demand".
These are books that our patrons request that fit a certain criteria (and our reviewed by my superiors), deeming them valuable for us to purchase for our own collection.

A few weeks ago, this POD came through my desk.

I'm often pretty intrigued by the random display of books that people request. Some of them are embarrassing; some noble, some spiritual, some typical, some really weird ("200 Years of Dolls"? What in the world, lady?).
This one caught my interest, however. As a 23-year-old (almost 24, what!?) I thought, now hey. I don't really want to ruin my life. I might need to know these things.
I decided to request the book myself. I also told my best friend Becky to look into it, so she did.
And we've been talking about it ever since.
It's not rocket science. Actually, it's pretty straight-forward, no-brainer information when you read through it.
And yet so many people get it wrong.

These are the chapter titles:

If you want to ruin your life by thirty, then...
1. Overlook the law of cause and effect
2. Get off to a bad start
3. Ignore God's purpose for your life
4. Refuse to take responsibility for your actions
5. Neglect your gifts and strengths when choosing a vocation
6. Disregard what the Bible says about sex and marriage
7. Stop learning
8. Isolate yourself
9. Refuse daily wisdom

BAM.

But all of that is obvious, right? No, not so much.

He pulls out this nugget of wisdom right away, in chapter 1:

"There is not a single person who would answer yes, if asked the question, 'Do you want your life to be miserable when you are older?' Yet the majority of young people engage in decisions every day that are leading to that very end. This is evidence of a great disconnect in modern thinking...Every young man or woman has an image in their head of who they will be in several years, but that image is hardly ever the natural outcome of the life they are living. The truth is that most young people are comforted with a future perception of themselves that is based on the solid evidence of nothing."

Honestly, it's a brilliant analysis of my generation. There is a disconnect in modern thinking.

There's also a severe case of selfishness in...well, every generation. It's a common trend of humankind.
In chapter 3, he talks about our purpose.
One of his main points is that in discovering our purpose, we cannot start with self.
You have to start with God.
When you start with self to discover purpose, you become selfish. And when "self" becomes the core, the center of your life, you are well on your way to ruining it.

The Price of Beginning With Yourself:
"As I have talked with men who have abandoned their families, so many times they responded to me, 'Don't I have a right to be happy?' The answer I always give them is, 'No, you don't have that right.' The real question they are asking is, 'Don't I have a right to be selfish?'"

It's a hard thing to reckon with. "Happiness" is the shallow goal of every human-being, the justification and reasoning for so many selfish, destructive actions.
Yet it's near impossible to rip that greedy desire from our selfish fingertips.
Mine included.

The chapter title that caught my attention the most was "Refuse to Take Responsibility for your Actions".
How many people do you know that shrug off blame, make excuses, fight tooth and nail to be right?
No one likes to be wrong. But what's even better than being right, is being teachable. 
Of all the characteristics he could have chosen, he chose teachability as the most valuable one to possess, and also to find present in your husband or wife.

I also like "Stop Learning".
Having finished college last year, I know what it's like to suddenly stop being in school. It's a very strange feeling. I also think there's a misconception among many young students, that they'll be "free" from learning once they graduate for the last time.
For some, that will indeed be the case. They'll pretty much stop growing altogether.
But for me, I want to continue to pursue knowledge and learn new skills and learn, learn, learn.
If you're not going forward, you're going backwards, right?

Lastly,
In the first chapter of this book, he talks about a sad, heart-broken widow who contemplated taking her own life. At the last moment, she saw a man across the lake working hard, plowing his field.
She felt a glimmer of hope, and was impressed by the man's focus and hard work. She decided to go home to her children, who had already lost their father. They didn't need to lose their mother, as well.
Five generations later, her great-great-grandson said this:
"My great-great-grandmother was unusual for several reasons -- including the fact that she conscientiously prayed for her descendants down through a dozen generations. Ours is a heritage of faith, for which I, for one, am deeply grateful."
While there is no way that young woman could have seen five generations down the road, she did not allow selfishness to consume her life and the lives of her precious children, and the many children to come.

Our choices are significant. Not just for us, but for future generations. Generational sin, generational grace, all of those things are real.
We can be so shallow-headed at times.

All that to say, everyone I know should read this book.
For the author, it started as a simple graduation address for high school students.
Now, it's an encouraging book that every 20-something should read.
Before you hit your twenties, your life is led by your parents. They house you and clothe you, they guide you, they make your food and pay your bills and make all of your major decisions.
But from here on out, it's on you, bub.

"Life in the twenties is characterized by a continual introduction of new places, new people, and new experiences. Every day is met with a higher level of intent and alertness...[and] the speed of life increases with every year.
Thirty will be here before you know it."

This book is short and simple, and full of wisdom and encouragement. And while it doesn't contain any ground-breaking new material or breath-taking insights into the human condition, it speaks the truth. We all could use more truth.
In this generation's silly, disconnected thinking.

My thoughts for today. :)
Don't ruin your life.

In love,
Cait