chinese turkey

in an effort to force jo to update her blog i am doing it with her.
It is Christmas Eve and the family is finally all together; baby Madison included. We are, in typical family tradition, watching some christmas movie on TV while mom is preparing goodies, and Jake is already guessing what we bought him for Christmas.
so baby madison is burping up some stuff and jo is complaining about the lack of snow and wondering when vancouver became so lame (it was when she came back).
Well it's time to eat, but I must salvage my dignity in some way: Jacob smells.
Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year, from Joanna and Jake.

Tell 'em I've been cooking coconut skins...

I came home a couple days ago.
My brother and my sister-in-law are moving into their new home this week (which is eeriely similar to the old house from our childhood).
My friend is attempting to fly home in the midst of a Blizzard in Denver.
Home? Home is always changing. As of now, I have a number of places I could call home. One in New Westminster, one in Columbus, and one in Houghton. If home is where the heart is, then my number of homes exceeds those and passes into the double digits. And yet this scares me, because my heart is constantly torn. If I am in Houghton, I think about Canada, my neice, and all the happening there. If I am here, in New West, I think about my college friends and their lives, and of next semester and the future. Perhaps it's merely wanting what I can't have. Perhaps it's wanting the best of both worlds.
Christmas is next week; that means less work, more movies, more food, more planning day-trips, and more family time. And despite the other places that occupy my heart and mind, despite the fact that coming home is more challenging than going back to college, family is still central. For Christmas, I am not restless. I am content.

in the 15th century civic humanism movement spreads in Florence

I've been receiving some jabs for not keeping this updated. So here goes...
Everyone knows that finals week is not fun, but there have been some unexpected events within the studying. For example, I've already felt the effects of christmas 'good cheer' in such forms:
1) free cookies and coffee, almost daily
2) free itunes music (from a friend, about 1500 more songs. my heart almost stopped)
3) loud hour (we have 24/7 quiet hours in dorms now, expect for this one blessed extravanganza from 8 to 9)
4) study groups (for the best way to learn is to flock to those who already have the answers)

Well that's all I've got time for. I've plugged in some Boney M. to keep up my spirits, and help me pretend that I'm home, it's snowing, and I'm reading American History and Calculus notes for fun.

December Love

So, we went to the Big Apple. New York, New York. The city that Sinatra loves to sing about. The Manhattan Project. The city that never sleeps.
As finals are rushing in and I still haven't caught up on my sleep, let the small amount of these pictures do the talking:

The Countdown Begins

Well, after experiencing the delights of government officials when I am missing important immigration papers, I'm feeling a little stressed at being back on campus. So, to counter such emotions, a bunch of us are reclining in the library. The library, you say. Why so? I shall explain.
First of all, the people inside these newly renovated walls make up quite the array, and I'm one that enjoys people-watching. There is a man sitting around the corner from me with braided hair. That's right. Beautiful long tresses pulled back in the stylish coif called the French Braid. Sometimes, on your way to the bathroom or to get a drink of water, you may come across the PDA couples searching out new hide-aways. Or, you might run into a child, from one of the professors, who will immediately ask you if you want to buy candy in support of his efforts to buy the newest video game. Other than the people, there are the delights of the recent extension of the library. We seat ourselves in conference rooms with motion-detector lights and plush rolling chairs to give us the illusion that we are not in a college in the middle of nowhere. It's a sort of 'city' feel; an escape.
We head to New York City this Saturday, amidst paper deadlines and exams looming on a bleak horizon. I plan to ignore these difficulties and embrace the cafes of the Big Apple, as I watch others rush off to catch their own deadlines. More people-watching? I'm up for it.
Only three weeks and I'm home again.

For a little while...

1 suitcase
lots of socks
1 camera
lots of goodbyes
1 laptop
lots of music
1 weekend
lots of rain
2 plane rides
lots of transfers

I'm coming home.

(1 art gallery. lots of fun)

Maddison Olivia Hummelman. 6 pounds, 14 ounces. Born 8:34 am, Friday November 10, 2006.

Welcome to the world, little one. May God bless you and your parents, as you are nurtured in the love of Christ. May you feel secure and peaceful as you grow, and may we find the ways to show you just how much love we hold for you. You have been brought into a blessed home and I pray that God works through you, even at this tender age, to show his care and love for his children. You are a miracle. I love you, and I can't wait to hold you.

Let it snow?

It has been snowing.
Alot of things happen in concordence with this event. For example, guys will run out of dorms in nothing but boxers and the light of the moon, cars will get stuck on hills in the wee hours of the morning, and american Tim Hortons will be full of college kids trying to get warm. These are the joys of winter, and I'm still in the mindset that snow only lasts for a week. So, it feels like Christmas already and we haven't even hit Remembrance Day. To enjoy these happy moments when we still laugh and play in the snow, rather than cursing it for blocking the grass and sun, we take a break from growing into adults and act like the little kids this campus is missing.

Happy Halloween

I'm mildly disappointed that to get an A in this college requires 95%.
On the other hand, I will be taking Intro to Ballet next semester.
Anyways, tonight is halloween. I was sort of expecting it to be more 'hush-hush' as this is a Chrisitan college, afterall. This was before I compared our liberality with Bob Jones. Seriously, check out this college (http://www.bju.edu/prospective/expect/dress.html ) and their expectations. Dare I say... God wouldn't want such restrictions? It reminds me of the Pharisees and their extreme focus on rules. I suppose if people can handle it, maybe the education is worth it. Not in my mind.
Back to Halloween. It was promoted throughout the campus, and even little kids from our hamlet (yes, Houghton is so small it is technically not even a village, but a hamlet) can come over. I don't know why, but so it goes. It made me wonder how other students view halloween; if they were allowed to trick-or-treat as kids and stuff like that. And the funny thing is, it's not a big deal. Usually campus is full of loud mouths and strong opinions (it's made me more of a listener at least) but apparently halloween is not controversial. And that's a relief.
So, happy halloween. Watch some movies, eat some candy, and enjoy the fall. As Wal-mart would say, it's practically christmas now!

Picture Updates

Me and Kat at an Ultimate Frisbee game. It was early, and cold. Needless to say, we were the only fans.













Rachel is looking at her boyfriend Dan, and Ian is there too. This is in Letchworth State Park, really beautiful place.















Just a black and white in the park.









Us attempting to study.

















Joy, in a rare sunny day since it is now fall, is facing the chapel.













Suze, Farrah, and me. Pure Canadian goodness.












Kat cutting Ben's hair. He was brave. And for his bravery, he got a good haircut.

Making Banana Pancakes

I've had that Jack Johnson song stuck in my head for a good couple of days now. I'm hoping it's not due to my lack of variety in music, but rather that my days have been stress-free enough that I can still hum a tune. I whistle a lot too, which is funny, because it's an infamous trait of my Dad. People tell me they know when I'm coming because of my whistle. And when they tell me that, it reminds me of my Dad. So, I take it as a compliment. I've heard it said, in relevance to my Dad, that when you whistle more, you are less stressed. It doesn't make sense if I apply that to my schedule (midterm exams in October? Unfortunately this is true), so it must be another, more important factor that is affecting my mood. I like to think it's the amount of sunshine we recieve.
After a night of frost, I suspected I was saying goodbye to that yellow blob of goodness, but I've been quite surprised with the weather here. I'm sitting on the chapel steps right now, awaiting the bells to toll for noon, which means lunch. The sun is almost blinding so that I can't see much of what I'm typing, and a cool breeze is picking up the decaying leaves that cover our campus is bright orange and red. Heck, I'm wearing flip flops. I've never been so grateful for nature or been so aware of it's effect on me. I've always appreciated it's beauty and mystery thanks to my Dad and his love to creation, but never before realized how it makes me a better person. That vitamin D is quite a drug. Hopefully the campus will stay this friendly throughout the winter. Until then, I'm soaking it up.

Rush of Blood to the Head

A couple days ago I signed up to donate blood. I was too young to do it with my grade 12 biology class (having been born in the late month of October), so I took the opportunity to do it here in college. And so with a courageous heart, I decided to find out what all the fuss was about. Tuesday morning, down in the campus centre basement, me and a few friends read the little info books, answered a bunch of questions, and prepped ourselves to give blood. I was surprised that the needle didn't hurt so much; in fact I was rather fascinated to watch the process. I was feeling quite good about myself and watched some of the people who had already finished, awaiting my own chance to snack on cookies and get free stickers. At that moment I saw one guy turn white as he tried to stand up. A nurse ran up and helped him lie on the ground, and a stretcher was brought. I watched as they lay cold compresses on his forehead to keep him awake. Then, I noticed my friend Joy, who had been sitting beside this guy, lay down her head on the table. Another nurse came up to her, and she also was put in a stretcher. They were still awake but very white as I saw them being wheeled by. By this time my blood had filled the bag and I was free to go. I made sure to slowly sit up and was happy to find that I felt perfectly normal. I thought myself quite a strong person, and took pride in my stablity after giving a pint of blood. I sat down to enjoy my cookie, and noticed my stomache felt funny. I heard the helpers, who passed out the water and food, asking if I was feeling well enough to go back upstairs. I lifted myself with my elbows, but then the world turned slightly fuzzy, as if I had just woken up. I told them I didn't feel too good.
I began dreaming. At first I was floating in the Universe, and distantly I saw something like the milky way. Then I was running a race, and my ears felt pressured, as if I was underwater. I could distantly hear my name being cheered.. I also heard a 'ding ding ding' and I felt my race was ending. Suddenly the shocking coolness of something damp on my forehead and neck made my eyes open...
I woke up to a red-faced man in a slightly panicky voice calling my name. "Did you have a good dream?" he asked with a shaky laugh, as I tried to remember where I was. I had a moment of pure confusion. I felt like I was in a movie, where the person opens their eyes to a world of chaos and blinding light. For a split second I had completely forgotten my age and the fact that I was a student in college giving blood. I wondered why everyone was standing around me, but I allowed them to lead me to a stretcher and finally my mind caught up. I asked how long I was out, and the nurse said it was good 15 seconds. They had pumped my legs to get the blood to circulate, and even rung a bell to try and wake me up. Finally, the damp cloths had done the trick.
I didn't know fainting would be such an interesting moment for myself, (could I even say profound?) but I'm really glad I experienced it. I have always wanted to faint just to know what a person remembers from it. I'm surprised I even had a dream in that short amount of time. However, I'm not sure I want to have that same loss of control over my mind again; it leaves me feeling rather helpless.
Anyways, that was an exciting moment for a Tuesday. At least for myself. And I got a lot of free cookies.

Homes

I'm discovering the problems with being a student so far from home. Alot of my friends are close enough that they are able to visit family over the weekends. This is a luxury, although many people are confused; why would you want to go home? You have all this freedom, you can do whatever you want, you should be living it up.
Well the thing is, home keeps us balanced. College engulfs us into this little world, this seperated community of young adults and new experiences. Already the recent past (like summer) seems distant. And it is refeshing to have people see you for who you are right now; they judge and value you according to the character they see now, rather than remembrances or stereotypes of the past. But we are still incomplete. A part of our identity is still found at home.
People view my situation of being far from home very differently, depending on where they are in life. Students here comment that it's too bad I can't visit my family so often, and gave me weird looks when I mentioned I might not have gone home for November break. People from home, on the other hand, questioned why I am coming home in November when I am already coming home in December. Is college supposed to be like this? Should we be this seperated from our family and friends that we almost forget our past? Sometimes I feel like I am on a deserted island, that I shouldn't be emailing let alone visiting family and friends while I am a college student. I know that right now my place is here in college, but my home is still in Canada. I still have a house that holds my bed, with my blankets, with my strewn papers around the room that have yet to be cleaned up. Right now I am finding my independance and learning to live on my own, but I am still connected to those places and to family and friends. They hold parts of my identity, and I will not be complete until I see them again.
Im excited to visit home again. It will give me a chance to miss college and my community here in Houghton.

This is how time goes by

Well, it's officially fall now. To commemerate such an event, here are some pictures.

Running with the Squirrels

There are a lot of critters on this campus. My friend Joy, running to make her class, had a close encounter by shocking one of the squirrels here, and they ended up taking a light jog together near the forest. After a moment, he realized that a turn would lead him to the safety of the nearby trees and away from this lumbering giant (Joy doesn't lumber like a giant, but to a squirrel this is a reality).
Sometimes my reactions to surprising experiences are similar to the squirrel's shock. My response is to just keep running in the same direction, to take action without thinking, until some profound moment of grace hits me with opportunity. Instead of trying to outrun the giant that is taking over my thoughts, and focusing on how surprised I am, I need to turn and redirect myself. At college, it is easy to get lost in stress, relationships, social activities, homework, etc. We live in our little world, just like the squirrels live in their little forest of Houghton, where everything (other than a mall) is set up for us. What needs to happen is some redirection, or a re-focusing, so we can keep growing. We need surprising incidents to keep us on our toes, so that when we do turn back into our little world, we bring change and new knowledge.
It's nice to get off of campus, as everytime we leave we get a jolt of reality- a reminder that there is a heck of a lot more in God's creation that we will be experiencing.

And so it is

I suppose it might get boring to listen to someone who is in college; it's all that they talk about. It's a mini life seperated from the rest of the world, and yet it's a full life varying from the silliest to the deepest moments. One thing I've noticed in myself is the way my writing and my voice changes from classes and the cafeteria. For example, I had a math assingment to be written out in paragraph form (I didn't know this process existed), and it sounded archaic. I was using words like 'indeed' and 'therefore', and threw in an 'alas' for good measure. That was my voice in writing homework, my voice in the cafeteria is a little more modern. We talk about things like existentialism (which I didn't know existed until recently; look it up and then watch Run Lola Run), and rolling pennies and using mentos as explosives. It varies with the amount of sleep one recieves.
But then there is another voice, and it isn't designated to classes or the the cafeteria. It's the voice that listens. I suppose that's an oxymoron, but it's true. When you listen, your voice changes. Already there have been deep, personal conversations on this campus. There have been moments of profound joy, from listening to hymns in a chapel to watching movies in dorms, and moments of complete despair (those first days were hell). In each of those moments, the voice of listening changed me from a college-student-finding-her-way to a child of God. In the moments that I really listen, I can see the blessings and challenges from God, and it is in those moments that I am changing.

Take this in good heart

I was really upset to learn that Steve Irwin, the renowned Crocdile Hunter, has died. Subconciously I had viewed him as an immortal, and that his brushes with death were just that....brushes. I'm more upset over the fact that he has left behind a family. Little tots. Thus, here is my eulogy:
Steve. You have lived life to the fullest, embracing adventures in God's creation. Many animals will probably remember you. Many people will probably not forget you. You rode an elephant to a movie theatre. I remember that. May God bless what you have brought into this world; the enthusiasm for learning and growing and taking risks. May God also be with what you have left behind; may your family find peace and comfort with your passing. And may we, the faithful media-stricken audience, always remember you as the legend of the Crocodile Hunter.

1 Week Away

It's amazing how long one week can be. Some summer camps are about that much; in one week we make friends, take pictures, and laugh and cry and share unusual experiences. In one week of college, things have gone slower. I've certainly done enough for one week; set up a mini-home, work, study, socialize, eat, sleep... and yet a week away from home is not what it used to be. At camp you had a new best friend by the second day, and you forgot about responsibilities and time management. In college, time passes to fast or not fast enough, depending on the situation, and the people you hung out with at the beginning of the week are barely seen anymore. I always hated the 'cliques' in highschool, but now I see that a 'core' group is a natural process. We branch out after we have secured ourselves with people we relate best to. Only then can we best relate ourselves to everyone else that we meet.
One week of being 3 thousand miles from home, surrounded by fellow students, and not knowing a soul... this changes a person.