"Never go on trips with anyone you do not love"

 There is a scene in Ernest Hemingway's novel A Farewell to Arms in which the main character, Fredrick, has a conversation with the priest while he is injured in the hospital. Fredrick tells the priest he does not "love much." To which the priest responds: 


"Yes," he said. "You do. What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust. When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve." 
"I don't know love." 
"You will. I know you will. Then you will be happy."
"I'm happy. I've always been happy."
"It is another thing. You cannot know about it unless you have it." 


Though this is not my favorite Hemingway book*, this scene certainly strikes a cord to any reader. Those who love know, those who do not, won't until they do. 


Another favorite quote of mine is in this novel (I promise this is not a literature lesson, so bear with me): "The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places." 


I once told Joe I knew I wanted to marry him when my plans changed because of him. Whatever silly timeline I had come up with, whatever check list of life accomplishments I had before him, changed when he came into my life. 

Such an attractive couple

And plans have changed again. Next fall I will not return to teaching full time; I will travel with Joe and take care of our marriage full time. I have loved teaching in the way you love things that make you struggle, that break you and make you stronger, and I hope to one day come back to the classroom full time. But for now, my family (however small it is) has to come first. 


But God is good and were we are needed he will find a way to have us there. My boss came in my classroom two days after I wept in his office about how I couldn't teach next year and offered the creative writing class to me through an online course-- I didn't even hesitate to say yes! There will be a presiding teacher to basically administrate the class, but the syllabus, grading, teaching and instruction will be "mine." The Lord has lead me to this school and has a purpose for me here, one I am even more certain of now that we are able to make an arrangement that satisfies all of my roles. 




At Camp Mystic for Girls**  there is always a Sunday we talk about putting God first. It is visually demonstrated through a giant fish bowl, rice and some golf balls. When we put worldly things first, represented by rice, God's will doesn't always fit, shown by trying to fit golf balls in the already full fish bowl. But putting the Lord first, meaning the golf balls, the rice sifts through and the Lord provides. I guess I forgot this in all my crying over what to do about next year. 




                                 Put your golf balls in first and your rice will fit, too. 

One of my favorite camper photos ever       

Photo Ode to Mystic 


**I went to Camp Mystic since 1998, with a hiatus between 2005-2007, quickly to return to be a counselor. Aside from my parents, I don't think anything has been as impactful and formative as Mystic. The river, the Hill Country, the tradition and the people make you renew your spirit and your body like nothing else can. God's hand has made Mystic as a place for girls to find their faiths, walk in hope and grow in love. 

Camp Mystic Dance 2011; sister and Rita 

Asking campers to back up so I can do the worm
at a Mystic dance party 

A little HBR
That's horse back riding to those of you who have never
filled out a Mystic Activity Card 

Reading at Mystic on CC Day, aka best day ever.
Yeah, I am a freak, kind of. 

My Mystic friends and the directors, Dick and Tweety at my wedding.
You don't go somewhere for 12 summers and not get attached to some folks.

* Read Hemingway's short stories or A Moveable Feast or The Sun Also Rises.  A Moveable Feast is a collection of short memoirs about his time in Paris. Better yet, read it in Paris. You'll never be able to stop loving the city. The title of this post is a quote from A Moveable Feast, and I couldn't agree more. 

UPDATE: Since this post went public Joe was called up to the big leagues again! Another player is injured, so there is no telling how long he will be there; however, it is nice to know that he is the next guy in line when something like this does happen! 

Polly Will Be Signing Autographs Later

Maybe it was the massive American flag. Maybe it was the Air Force flyover during the National Anthem. Maybe it was the Phillies Phanatic dancing to "Proud Marry." Or maybe it was just getting to see Joe smile on the big screen at Citizens Bank Park, but I was completely swept away by the romanticism of baseball on April 9, 2012.

Don't worry, I won't wear
it to a live game. 

And why shouldn't I be--my husband made the Opening Day roster for arguably one of the best teams in baseball history.


Tuesday night I was dressed to work out, but never made it. ESPN ScoreCenter app* kept updating me on the many pitching changes of the last pre-season game and Joe's name was continually not called. I folded laundry and bit my nails to ragged nubs and Polly wondered why I kept moving the clothes she was trying to sleep on.

iPhone photo of field because I can't find the cord
that connects legit camera
to laptop 

"It's been a long day," he said when I answered. I nodded and exhaled ready to get past the small talk.
"It has. How are you?"
"Good. I am good. Do you want to meet me in Pittsburgh tomorrow?"
I started crying hysterically and told him how proud I was of him. After numerous mass texts and phone calls, my parents and his brother "Potty" came over for a glass of champagne while I packed--


for 30 degree weather!


I bundled up in my best version of cold weather spring style (cream coat, tomato colored dress, black tights, black booties) and met my parents and sister Yulie in Pittsburgh. Even though the real show was a few days later when we were the home team, it was pretty amazing to see him run out and knuck with Charlie Manuel. The staff was very nice, kindly leading us to the traveling family room and brushing the dust off our stadium seats (this was a little excessive, but sweet nonetheless).

After Pamela's incredible pancakes

No trip is complete without some eating so I will give a quick run down of the best places we went. Primanti Bros prides themselves on a sandwich made with your choice of meat, topped  stuffed with cheese, cole slaw and french fries. If you have ever seen the videos of a snake eating a gazelle, than you have seen what one has to do to eat these sandwiches.** Totally worth the TMJ though. Pamela's was the breakfast place of choice, Michelle Obama's favorite as well. I ordered chocolate chip pancakes with bananas, also known as all of my favorite things. The pancakes are very thin, like a crepe and the cheesy scrambled eggs were made with Velveeta. I don't remember what anyone else got because mine was so good I didn't look up or breath for my whole meal.

Primanti Brothers 

One of my wife friends, Brooke, suggested I change my flight so I would leave out of Philadelphia. I told her this presented the dilemma of not having a car to get to Philly from Pittsburgh.
"Just fly on the team plane."

Uhm, yes.


I will be a huge bratface princess and say that flying privately is freaking awesome. Hospitable friends of my father have let me go to on their planes, but this plane was Delta without security, lines, other passengers or waiting. I cannot say that it was not sans motion sickness (me) or flight anxiety (Joe), but it was really great and the team is very lucky to be able to travel that way. And I am lucky I got to mooch.

Highlight of the flight? Joe is basically a fraternity pledge and has to carry different players stuff, so I tried to be as invisible as possible while he did his rookie stuff. A former Astro  was walking down the aisle of the plane and stopped to introduce himself, something that was very uncalled for and very polite. I jumped up, and I mean jumped up, and smacked my head on the low ceiling over the seats.


I only hope he forgot my name and has doesn't associate Joe with the head trauma patient.


Philadelphia was incredible. I choked up several times thinking about how happy I was for Joe. I thought about a particularly rough time last season when I visited him in A ball. He was hitting then and not getting enough playing time to even show what he could do. The stress of no playing time only made his at bats less than ideal, perpetuating the cycle.
"I don't even know what I am doing here. I don't like being treated like a little boy. Tell me I suck, tell me I need to retire. Hell, release me," he vented that morning. My heart broke for him. I prayed to God that I would sacrifice anything, anything at all, if he could feel like he had a purpose again. Because even that early on, I knew Joe was ultimately where I felt my greatest purpose and that is what happens when you love someone in a real way-- you fight for their happiness more than your own.


So when Joe smiled walking down the "red carpet," high fiving fans that lined the field and a boys' choir sang some song about Philadelphia-- I was singing songs of praise that what I had asked for in Florida less than a year ago had been answered.


Joe played in that game. Allowing one run, but holding his composure as he always does.


Tonight Joe was moved to AAA and had to take the longest route possible to Buffalo, NY to meet up with the team (Philadelphia to Detroit to Buffalo--what?). This is not to say that Joe won't go back up with the big boys, nor is it to say that he will. We don't know what the rest of the season holds.




But Joe has played in  Major League games, he has played in a Major League Opening Series game and God has used him to make an inspirational story that can make even a cynic smile.

Worn out from all of her publicity 

*I only have this to know Phillies game stuff during baseball season. I get alerts but don't get a lot of them. What I do understand is "FINAL" means the game is done.
** I looked at some pictures to put with this snake-eating-gazelle comment and decided that they were really too gross to post on here. Save yourself your breakfast and don't Google Image it either, I sure regret it. 

The Post with No Pictures

Opening Day is Thursday and as of this post, we don't know where Joe will be this year. More than likely, the big bosses have already made up their minds so it is just a matter of time before we know. I will be seeing Joe this weekend, be it in Pittsburgh (Majors) or Providence (Minors) I am holding my breath to find out. Today at church the sermon was about anxiety, and no better message could have been made for me today. Worry, said Ben Young our pastor, is looking in the future with the worst case scenario in mind, it is looking into a future without God.  And I know that whatever happens with and for Joe, God will be there no matter the outcome. I only wish I was there to be supportive. Giving major (pun intended) news via text or even phone call is not quite the same as in person. 


On Saturday we celebrated one of Joe's best friend's, Adam Z, birthday. Everyone brought their dogs and we all, canine and humans alike, enjoyed the sunny weather and new homeowner Derek's pool. Adam Z sacrificed birthday boy lounging and boiled big, fat crawfish. Crawfish, like many shellfish, are cooked alive so we had a giant cooler of pinchy little guys. Lize and Bryce and I became nine years old and poked them till they got in fighting stance-- claws up and out. What is it about things being small and aggressive is always funny? Lize's dog Duke got in a small tussle with one and I am sad to report the crawfish (kind of) won by a massive pinch to the snout. Duke flung it in the air and homeowner Derek got rid of it so we wouldn't have another incident. Polly would not have bounced back as fast as Duke had she been the curious dog of the day. Poor thing did come home with blisters on her paws from running all day. She hardly even made it to her bed before conking out when we got home. 
(I am a terrible photographer and rely on Bryce to document such things as this--- and the pictures aren't on Facebook yet for me to steal and claim as my own artistry)




All of this excitement also put me to bed early and all to aware that Joe was not there. I guess it is like never feeling as lonely as you do in a crowd when you're all alone (yeah, Wade Bowen lyric*), it is never more obvious that Joe is gone than when I am somewhere he should be. His good buddy Brian "Viernes", too, was notably missed and something feels off with the group's absences. When people ask, "How is married life?" I say, "Kind of like being single." But a really pathetic kind of single-- not the fun girl who says things like, "I don't have time for a relationship" or "I am just not into boyfriend/girlfriend labels." Not that I want to be this girl, I just want to be with my husband more. 


My creative writing class has reminded me why I have wanted to teach it and why I love to write. I submitted my story this week for my workshop in two weeks. I went with a piece I wanted to revisit from my thesis. It is easily one of my most controversial pieces and I fully expect for at least 6 people to hate it after the first paragraph... but hate isn't a bad thing, it is an emotional reaction and I want my readers to feel something. It makes me think more and more about writing a collection one day, or even a memoir about all the baseball stuff from my perspective. My friends from college liked this idea when I mentioned it in the summer, so long as I include them in the story and then write one about college. The latter might have to come much later and let the statute of limitations come into play for some incriminating tales.... mostly just so things that need time to be funny can do so. 
(If I put pictures with this paragraph I would either be a major creep in creative writing class or a very hated member of my college friend group)


But a baseball story, told from the stands with a hot dog in fluted paper balancing on my knee, might happen. I guess that will be something I worry (or not worry, thanks Ben)about later. For now, I will just not-worry about how what to bring on my trip to either Providence or Pittsburgh. Charlie Manuel**, give me a call if you can and let me know what you think I should pack. 


*Wade Bowen, Texas Country singer/songwriter. One of my favorites. 
**Charlie Manuel, Phillies manager.


Since I didn't have any cool pictures dealing with content, here is one just because.  This is what I wake up to if Polly stays in the bed with me: 

She has absolutely no sense of personal space.