POST-ATHEIST

more cat and girl

or, i cannot believe you bastard bitches.


make way for the fracking bush library. it's going to eventually take out much more than a shopping strip. you are ripping out the sacred spaces where conversations have taken place over meals, where prescriptions have been purchased, where the glory of tomato basil soup was first discovered.


talk about shock and awe.



can't you just occupy the empty buildings across the street, the ms. baird's factory, liquor stores, the segway store that all failed? why not go ahead and take out the 7/11*?

leave us our soup and sourdough bread. our bookstore. our pharmacy. our roly poly sandwiches and bad chinese food.

bastard bitches.



*incidentally, my grandfather built the canopy above the gas pumps when i was a first-year student some moons ago.



thanks for the link, theyblinked

the boy is working on a presentation. he will soon be an expert on pizarro, the gentleman (i say that with utter irony) who is responsible for wiping out the inca.

our favorite part of the story is when pizarro shows up in panama with the intent to convince the governor that he should grant pizarro money for his exploits. his proof? a handful of gold, a couple of enslaved peruvians, and...

a llama.


seriously.

there are still stores you can go to in the early afternoon.

you can go to the counter and rattle off a handful of your favorite bands/musicians...

and they will give you recommendations. with the relatively new elbow singing the background of your new discoveries.



-----

it is spring in dallas. i'm spending ten minutes cleaning up, and then it is time to read some theology out by the pool before work.


the day is good.

...the 9-year-old doodled on a plain white sheet of copy paper.


she left it behind, along with an empty raisin box and a plastic cup that had held cheerios mixed with milk and yogurt. sometimes starting one's day at 6:30 is a bother, but this day i was left a precious message penned in green highlighter and pencil.

go to the sun. today it rocks.

yesterday i was walking the dog and some of the landscaping guys said hello en espanol. they asked me some question about lilly, and in smiling response i pulled this mangled sentence from my little knowledge of the language:

todos los dias caminar para el perro.


that literally translates as "all the days to walk for the dog".




brilliant, shan. just brilliant.

the other night i was energetically telling my friend about the successful orzo-stuffed peppers experiment, which sparked an inspired exchange of recipe ideas.

this particular friend is my compatriot at perkins, where we share a keen interest in process theology (we spend the hours between class and work figuring out life, the universe, and everything).

upon witnessing what is unabashedly a foodie exchange, our companions found themselves contemplating the priorities of casey and shan. we protested when they implied that theology/philosophy was a hobby and the art of cooking? a passion.


now. this seems a little silly to give much thought, but i've had a bit of a rough week. a moment of navel-gazing before i head to work at 6AM seems appropriate. many, including my gran, have urged me to go to cooking school.

the thing is: i want to keep my love affair with the creative exchange between myself and vegetarian cuisine just that. i don't want it to become a job. the hours i spend in the kitchen are meditative, creative, glorious. (i still do call my cousin who is a chef on occasion when i need some advice. he still has yet to give me a recipe that involves saffron!)

i had the great fortune of pursuing an incredible career as an editor. i know it sounds crazy, but i'm in the process of pursuing a career in philosophy. that is the passion (and you know it, dan).



---
all of that said, my first thought this morning? i really should get some ghee.*








*does anyone actually know where to find ghee? i tried clarifying butter myself but that was about as successful as separating curds and whey. does anyone else wish that giada had an everyday indian or everyday vegetarian or everyday thai show?

love does not control. it opens a space of becoming.


these words from catherine keller's "on the mystery: discerning god in process"





are these words in their simple beauty resonant because while they ring true they are so difficult to live? she is speaking about g-d, but she is also speaking of us (i doubt she would set up such a binary).

how did love come to mean ownership, control?


i think that process theologians are frightening for some not because that approach implies that we have something to lose.

it implies that we do not *have* it to start with.


more on this later. i have to get back to work.

note to self: check out caputo's "hyperbolic justice"