Retreat to Montreat

Dear Husband and I took a working vacation to Montreat this year. Nestled in the mountains of western North Carolina, not far from Asheville, the town of Montreat is home to Montreat College (blue signs) and a Conference Center (green signs) that hosts events associated with the Presbyterian Church (USA). The campus surrounds "Lake Susan"* and is reached by driving under a stone gateway with two arches that could be interpreted as an "m." The name is a contraction of "Mountain Retreat Association."

This was my first visit to the Presbyterian Association of Musicians Worship & Music Conference, and DH's fourth as the Music Director of Sewickley Presbyterian Church. SPC has been sending a contingent of singers, bell ringers, and hangers-on for almost 4 decades, since his predecessor brought the idea with him from Mississippi. It's a Presbyterian version of the United Methodists' Music and Worship Arts Week at Lake Junaluska (less than an hour west of here!), and the SPCers' favorite moment of every day is happy hour on the back patio before dinner.

Flying out after Sunday morning worship via Charlotte to a recently expanded Asheville Regional Airport, where we rented a car for the week, we arrived juuust as the kick-off worship service was starting in Anderson Auditorium (above). It was truly impressive to hear hundreds of people of all ages singing and praying together. The theme of the scriptures, liturgy, and music for the week was "Who'll Be a Witness?"

We shared a room with twin beds in Assembly Inn (pictured from the other side of Lake Susan, top), the main lodging house with a cafeteria that provided all our meals. DH and I both signed up for sessions like a lecture series on hymns, adult Bible study, intermediate bell ringing (him), and movement in worship (me), but I didn't want to burn a vacation day when the fourth Monday of the month is already scheduled for video visits, so I actually worked 10 hours on Monday with meetings and patient visits (after buying a webcam from Best Buy on our way into town) from the lobby (above) and our room. Having missed the first day, and cognizant of a lengthening summer to-do list of lectures, papers, and a book review, I decided to skip all but one hour of class to catch up with this, that, and the other thing.

In between reading, writing, or emailing from a succession of comfy or charming locations, I attended worship at 11am, ate meals with the group, and joined in the evening activities (below, in order): a comedic operetta based on Cinderella, a tree-themed hymn festival, and a brass band concert played outside for us to enjoy around the lake. The weather was cooler and drier than I had anticipated, mostly 60s in the mornings and 70s in the afternoons, with occasional overnight rain.

Tuesday evening a group of us drove into Black Mountain, parked at the visitor's center with its oversized rocking chair (below), and ate dinner al fresco at the bistro next door. Having left room for dessert, DH and I walked over to Kilwins for ice cream (also famous for its fudge), which we ate while walking around the quaint downtown of shops.

Earlier in the day I had "stimulated the economy" by patronizing the Montreat Store and its upstairs affiliate, The Good Steward. My prize find was a pair of glass bubble earrings by a local artist for only $35. I promptly wore them for my 2-hour drive to Charlotte on Wednesday to surprise my 100-year-old grandmother for lunch. I stopped by my aunt and uncle's house to see them and one of my cousins before battling traffic back in time for dinner.

Thursday and Friday, DH played a handbell voluntary before the services (video above), and Friday the service featured two tall flagpoles with doves at the top (above) that I really liked for bringing movement into worship. Friday at lunchtime we ducked into the Presbyterian Heritage Center in Freeland Hall (pictured below, with the kids' ribbon procession practice session barely visible over the stone wall). The small museum held a variety of exhibits: on the origins of Montreat; a well-done exercise applying critical historical skills to the question of the Mecklenburg Declaration of 1775; and Rev. John Mack Walker, Jr.'s carved wooden sculptures of Biblical characters dressed and posed like Appalachian residents in the 20th century. After lunch I came back to look at the other exhibits and to finish this blogpost in the quiet, air-conditioned library / archive.

The Walk to Emmaus (1961) won an award from the North Carolina Museum of Art for its depiction of mountain people. When classes let out, we bundled two seminarians and all our stuff into the rental car and drove to the airport. We were sad to miss the big closing service / concert Friday evening, but I got scheduled to round with the brand-new hospital interns Saturday morning. May the Spirit of the Lord interrupt my work as often as my work interrupts my leisure. Amen!

*Lake Susan was created in 1910 when the creek was dammed. It is named for the niece, sister, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother of the man who donated the wood. It's now made of stone and has a waterfall that can be enjoyed from a rocking chair or bench on the three decks of the Moore Center, which hosts a cafe (I was made the Duchess of The Huckleberry Cafe on Yelp after checking in only twice!), two shops, and classrooms.

SPC Women's Retreat: Never

Today I attended my first women's church retreat since I can remember. Sewickley Presbyterian Church has traditionally gone out to beautiful Ligonier, an hour's drive southeast of Pittsburgh, but this year they started alternating with a partial-day retreat on the church campus, and twice as many women were able to participate. I could have stayed home, working on the latest version of my book manuscript, which has been sitting in my email for more than a week. (I know you must be thinking, "I thought you finished the book, what more could there possibly be to do?" Well, after I submitted it  to the Press in March, a copyeditor make suggestions over the summer that I had to deal with, and I promise we're now on the final step, which is checking for errors and compiling an index.) Unfortunately, it meant I missed the local No Kings protests, but I've enjoyed looking through photos of crowds and signs online. Here's the sign that welcomed us.

Welcoming tableaux with encouraging words and lanterns to light our metaphorical paths. 

Despite our suburban setting, the retreat planners opted for a rustic-country-chic style, which just elevated the mood of the basement dining hall. They fed us a cold breakfast and soup for lunch. The theme was "Never," based on Tasha Layton's song "Never" which proclaims "Never forgotten / Never forsaken / Never abandoned."

Pastor Barb chose three Bible passages to illustrate these themes: the story of King David showing kindness to Mephibosheth (2 Samuel 9-13) instead of killing him as the heir of a rival; Jesus' uttering the first line of Psalm 22 as synecdoche for "hope still has the last word"; and the story of Moses' birth (Exodus 2:1-10). This last one was very personal for Pastor Barb, who shared some of the toughest moments in the long journey to adopt two of her children from Haiti, and for two of the women at my table, who had both adopted children from Russia. They talked about the courage it takes to give a child up to another family being the opposite of abandonment.

We played some ice-breaker activities like "That's so me!" and "What's in your purse?"

After lunch, we walked over to the Faith House for "prayer activities that sometimes look like crafts":

• just sit in stillness and rest
• read some psalms and then write one
• pray for your family over a heart-shaped keychain to take home as a reminder
• sit on a comfy sofa and do breath prayer
• put on a backpack full of rocks and meditate on the burdens you're carrying, then remove one of the rocks, write a burden on it, and leave it at the foot of the cross
• take-a-verse-leave-a-verse (see below)
• write a magnetic poem-prayer
• meditate in front of a mirror about replacing negative self-talk with positive affirmations
• decorate a ceramic tile with your "sins" (in marker) and then symbolically "wash them away" with alcohol
• pray for the least and last in the world while looking at photos
• make a Bible bookmark and take one someone make
• pray for someone who has hurt you and then bury those resentments with a heart-shaped seed card that will hopefully grow into flowers
• color part of a "Never" poster while thinking about the women of faith who have impacted you

I left the verse, "Cast all your worries upon God, because God cares for you." ~1 Peter 5:7

I took home, "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you, he will never leave your nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged." ~Deuteronomy 31:8

I brought my prayer beads (a craft from graduate school Bible study), seen here with two small devotional books for later: Chris Tiegreen's Moments of Hope: 40 Days of Encouragement for Women (Walk Thru the Bible) and Lysa Terkeurst's Is God Speaking to Me?

It was a good day of fellowship that I hope will bring me closer to my sisters in Christ.

Open Hearts, Open House

On the “low” Sunday after Christmas, we decided to attend worship at Lovely Lane, the “mother church” of Methodism in this country. I had visited 30 years ago on a field trip with my confirmation class, when the building was in disrepair. They have since restored the beautiful starry ceiling, wooden auditorium seats, and stained-glass windows in the round sanctuary. The scripture passage was about Jesus’ parents finding him at the Temple in Jerusalem, and the sermon was about how we’re preparing ourselves to find God in the new year.

Then it was home to finish getting ready for an open house with many old friends from church and growing-up.

Recipe:  The hands-down star of the show was my SIL’s cranberry salsa, which you spread over cream cheese and eat with Wheat Thins or other crackers.

Ingredients:

If you're serving a crowd, use 16 ounces cream cheese = 2 standard blocks at room temperature.

Otherwise it's a more even ratio to use only 8 ounces = 1 block.
12 ounce bag fresh cranberries, washed
2 jalapenos minced (adjust according to taste)
½ cup sliced green onions, roughly chopped
¼ cup chopped cilantro, roughly chopped
½ tablespoon lime juice
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup sugar, plus more to taste
Wheat Thins or some other sturdy cracker

Instructions:

• Set out the cream cheese to soften.
• Finely chop cranberries, jalapeños, green onions, cilantro, lime juice, salt, and sugar, in a food processor.
• Add salt and sugar to taste.
• Chill in fridge for about 2 hours or more. 
• To serve, spread room temperature cream cheese evenly in a pie plate or other shallow serving dish, like an 8×8 pan. Spread salsa on top and serve with crackers.

N. stayed for dinner so we could keep talking, and afterward we played Baltimore in a Box, the Monopoly knock-off. There’s a one-hour version that involves handing out properties at the start and limiting the time of play. At one point, three of us were in a traffic jam together! Daddy Money-Bags won.

Our Greek Vacation by the numbers

Now that Dear Husband and I are home again, and Rosamunda has forgiven us for abandoning her to the doting care of our next-door neighbor--who not only feeds her wet food, changes her water, and scoops her poop but leaves treats every day(!)--I can post the numbers I collected while we were gone, illustrated with some extra photos, like the hand-painted keepsake from Santorini above.

Days of vacation: 8 + 3 travel days

Cities: 5 (Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill, Newark, Munich, Athens, Fira/Firestefani, Oia)
Islands: 1
Cars/vans: 10 
Airplanes: 9
Buses: 6, including ones at airports

Metros: 1 in Athens 
Trains: does the one at the Pittsburgh Airport count?
Boats: 0 due to high winds :-(

Funiculars: 1 out of 2 (Fira Old Port, but not Lycabettus Hill in Athens)
Donkeys: 1 for each of us

Street cats: at least 15
Street musicians: 4 (including a guy playing accordion on the Metro)
Books read: 2/3 (Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew from It by Greg Marshall and The Taste of War: World War II and the Battle for Food, by Lizzie Collingham) (I didn't make it to How He Died, about our friend Steve Shoemaker)

Work emails checked: 0 for FrauDoktorDoctor; DH had to square some things away shortly after we arrived

Lost items: 3 (several bottles of water, sunglasses, sports coat)
Found items: 1 (sports coat)

People who threw up: 2 (food poisoning for me, airsickness for him)

Broken cellphone screens: 2 (both mine, since I didn't get a screen protector for the new one soon enough after shattering the old one)

Flat tires: 1.5 (our cars clearly missed us while we were gone)

Since I had mixed up the dates of our appointment to be pampered at a Turkish hammam, and the other museum we wanted to see was closed on Tuesdays, we had a low-key last day. In the late afternoon, we took a walk in the neighborhood around our hotel. First stop: the pretty little church above was across the street from our hotel, and we could hear the bells when they played. Loudly. At 7:30 in the morning.

Second stop: the Panathenaic Stadium, the first stadium constructed for a modern Olympics, in 1896.  We're now 100 days from the opening of the 2024 Summer Games in Paris!

Due to rain the first night, food poisoning the next two nights, and Saharan dust that turned the sky orange like Mars the night before our departure (the picture doesn't do it justice), we could only use the hot tub on our hotel balcony once. Reflected in the glass, you can see that I figured out how to log out of the previous occupant's Netflix account (in Dutch??) so we could watch something before bed. We settled on the pilot episode of Star Trek: Enterprise. It was just okay, like our trip, which DH and I have decided was "a mitigated disaster." While not the "dream vacation" I had hoped for, there were definitely enjoyable moments, like eating meals overlooking the caldera on Santorini, basking in the sun on the Aeropagus (Mars Hill), and using my extremely rudimentary Greek in the taxi on the way to the airport. In the end, the important thing is that we did it together, the two of us.

Christmas 2023

Editor's Note: If you're following along in real time, this post is dropping one month after the big event due to general busyness of mixing family/friend time with a half-week of work over the holidays, followed by jumping into the new semester with both feet. Also, I was waiting for my new storage items to arrive in the mail, and I wanted to show them to you, because this post is dedicated to the suburban wife I have become. Cheers!

Dear Husband and I had a lovely Christmas 2023, in part because for the first(!?) time in two decades, we did not travel. Instead, his immediate family came to us. Unsurprisingly, I made very ambitious plans for cooking and activities, beginning with a great new taco place. Christmas Eve breakfast was waffles with a warm, homemade cinnamon pear compote topped with walnuts and powdered sugar that looked like something from a Williams Sonoma catalogue, but I was too busy serving and eating to photograph it.

(Moravian star visible in front window.)

(Yes, that is a flock of flamingoes; alas, their days may be numbered--

they really should have flown south for the winter, as snow and ice do not agree with them.)

Since buying our house almost 2 years ago, we have been purchasing more Christmas decorations. Last year was a reusable wreath with matching garland for the light pole in the front, and a sparkly light-up deer for the back. This year I discovered "urn fillers" for the concrete containers on either side of the driveway and scoured the internet to find a set that DH liked with battery-operated timers that didn't require a second mortgage. (Our first picks cost $170! EACH!) I also leaned into some kind of country kitsch with two oversized black metal lanterns with battery-operated candles to hang in the back yard--for ambience? DH seems to like them.

For Christmas Eve lunch (DH would already be at church by dinnertime), I decided to re-create that phyllo pie recipe. This time I made chickpea-with-spinach and chicken-(leftover from chicken soup)-with-peas, served with homemade cranberry sauce and my in-laws' German cucumber salad. Demerits for forgetting to defrost the frozen dough sheets overnight, although it turns out you can nuke them in their plastic wrappers in the microwave for 60 seconds (thanks, Alan Brown!).

Christmas Day breakfast was cinnamon rolls with grapefruit. More demerits to me for hustling us out of the house at 9am to be early for the 10am service at St. Paul's Cathedral, when actually we wanted to attend the noon service with the special music that started at 11:30am (whoops). So we gave up our spot in the parking lot and drove across town to Homewood Cemetery, where we hunted for the grave of a distant relative, then dawdled over hot drinks from the Starbucks that was open in the Jewish neighborhood. It felt so nice to give ourselves the gift of "no stress." (Kudos AND TIPS to the baristas who were working hard!) We were in good time for the brass, choir, and organ music and came home to a late lunch of phyllo pie with my MIL's raspberry pie for dessert.

There was jigsaw-puzzling, various rounds of card games, and we visited the large train set that is up in the living room of the older couple next door. The husband grew up in our house, and that train set used to be in what is now our living room.

Christmas Day dinner was London broil with this excellent marinade (not shown), mashed potatoes with my in-law's mushroom gravy, and Brussels sprouts that I thought would continue to cook while they rested on the stovetop but didn't (whoops).

On Boxing Day I took two meals off and only cooked for dinner, since DH's brother had come to town. I made this Martha Stewart "Cajun shrimp" recipe (above), except I swapped out the Andouille sausage for water chestnuts to lower the salt and fat content for my FIL, and I skipped the celery altogether, since only my MIL and I like it. I also tossed in the green pepper chunks last so they would stay crunchy. Served with roasted carrots and cumin. This filled our stomachs before we headed out to the Holiday Lights at the Phipps Botanical Garden.

Finally, this year I tired of storing our ornaments in torn, decades-old tissue paper and a mish-mash of cardboard boxes, so I invested in a set of plastic tubs and red-and-green canvas storage containers with cardboard inserts. Here you can see Rosamunda "helping" me sort everything into their new containers. There's a little space to grow, but we have more than enough ornaments to fit on a standard-issue live fir tree, so it's mostly about being able to see what you're looking for when you're decorating and feeling neat and tidy when everything is put away.