Hmmm. I think God and Mom are colluding. Perhaps Mom has finally given up on perstering me and enlisted the aid of the Almighty.

I was praying yesterday morning, and I've been trying to ask God honestly to tell me anything—regardless of what it is and whether I particularly want to hear it—and to obey. As usual, He comes out of left field, and reminds me that I'm overdue (way overdue) for a visit to the dentist. Haha. So I'm off for the old scrape and grind thing next Wednesday.

Fun.

Dumbass!

We had a rather large limb fall off a tree in our back yard, so today I borrowed the landlord's electric chainsaw, hacked it up, and carted the pieces to the pavement where they will eventually be collected (according to a schedule we have not been able to divine).

I wasn't sure if it was wise or not, but I wore my old glasses to protect my eyes. Who knows whether flying chips of wood or flying shards of glass is more likely, but it seemed like a good idea. I'd take off my glasses, throw them down on the grass beside the chainsaw, cart some branches off, come back, put my glasses back on, and resume the sawing.

I finished, came inside, washed my hands, made a sandwich, grabbed a tasty malt beverage, and—of course—realized I wasn't wearing my glasses.

I combed the grass, back and forth. I went back to the huge mass of branches, and shifted them from one pile to the other, shaking each branch in the failing light. Nothing. Finally, I took a flashlight, and re-combed the grassy area, hoping that the glass or metal would reflect the light. Nothing.

Out of curiosity, I threw down my new glasses (carefully noting where, of course), and walked around, shining my flashlight to see whether they actually do reflect — no.

And there, as I gave up and bent down to pick up my new glasses, were my old ones, less than a foot away. Weird.

I'm sure there is some kind of meaning — I've been drowning in allegory lately. The disordered mess my room has been in for the last month or two feels most unfortunately allegorical. As do the juggling balls Jim has in the cube he and I are sharing at work.

Aah, but so are the George MacDonald books I've been reading, and the stories and pictures God has been showing me, and it's all good.

That's all for now. (Hi mom.)

Yeah! I pretty much showed that Peachtree Road Race who's boss. To quote weatherman John John Mackie... [er, better not]   Anyway, I ran the race in 46:05, which comes out to 7:25 minute miles! I was grinning all the way home, and I'm proudly wearing the t-shirt right now.

In other news, granny turned 80 today. I gave her a call and talked with her and with grampa. They both seemed to be doing very well, which is good to hear. Grampa's quote was the best. When I told him that I'd run a race today, along with 55,000 other people, he responded, "That's not a race. That's an evacuation!"

Which is interesting... I've grown sick of hearing about "the events of September 11th" parroted back by everyone from politicians to companies trying to explain their failed business plans. But with that many people bunched together on in one place on the 4th of July, I have to admit I was paying a slightly more than casual interest to the tiny figures atop the surrounding skyscrapers, and was glad to see a cop up there too. Of course the five or six news helicopters buzzing around looking for stories (and pretty much drowning out the national anthem) are probably even more effective at spotting trouble!

It does make one think, though, that what America really is is a bunch of people, who are mostly concerned with living out their lives, having barbecues, raising kids, and occasionally getting up at five in the morning to run a race with 55,000 other people just for the fun of it. In all the sparkle and glitter and hype of the media trying to sell us an even bigger thrill than last time, you can forget that real life happens down on the ground, and that there really is something magical about seasons and holidays and celebrations.

Happy 4th of July!

Here in Washington, we like to think we�re important. But what�s great about America is that whether you�re a senator or a bus driver doesn�t make you a better person. You just have different jobs.

America is not a nation of kings and commoners, masters and servants. We�re a nation where every person has equal value, every dream deserves an equal chance, and every soul should be as equal in the law of the land as it is in the eyes of God.

(From a speech by John Edwards mentioned on Lawrence Lessig's Blog.)

Those are definitely some of the beliefs upon which America was founded. I'm just not sure we act like we believe them very much nowadays

Here in Washington, we like to think we�re important. But what�s great about America is that whether you�re a senator or a bus driver doesn�t make you a better person. You just have different jobs. America is not a nation of kings and commoners, masters and servants. We�re a nation where every person has equal value, every dream deserves an equal chance, and every soul should be as equal in the law of the land as it is in the eyes of God. John Edwards

The last few days, I finally sat down and worked on tuning my piano. It's quite difficult, although with the aid of the little electronic tuner, not too bad. Since it was quite flat, I'm sure I'm going to have to tune it twice — once to bring it up to pitch, and then again in a couple of weeks after it's settled a bit. I'm almost done with the first tuning — just the highest octave and a half are yet to be done.

On Monday, I went running in the rain for the first time. Usually I'm not that hard-core about running, but it had been a week since I last ran, and on the way home, I passed a couple of runners who seemed to be enjoying it. Actually, it was easier than usual, because the heat had abated. It wasn't raining hard, though — I'll have to try it at least once when it's royally bucketing down in true Georgia Summer thunderstorm fashion.