Eggplant


Have you ever contemplated the beauty of eggplant? The colors are amazingly swirled together, so sometimes it looks black, sometimes ruby red, and somehow purple all over. I think I might keep an eggplant on my counter all the time now, just to learn more about the hand that made it. Maybe I’ll even work up the courage to try to capture its beauty on canvas. But today I’ll just stare at it.

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From the lips of children

My 2nd-5th grade students had a discussion regarding the Fall of man today. They brought up some things I have never thought about before, and am very humored by:
If Adam hadn’t sinned:
1) Would we still get papercuts?
2)Would we die if we got shot by a gun (the gun was of course created, not to hurt people, but to shoot fruit off of high trees)
3) We would be so crammed with people there wouldn’t be any room to move.
4) We would have serious traffic jams!
5) If you tripped, would it hurt?
6) Would you be able to swim underwater (because if you couldn’t die you couldn’t drown….)
7) If you were eaten by a shark, would you live inside it forever.
8) If you stepped on a beetle, would it die?

Henry Tudor

My first lecture of the school year was on “Memorizing”, how to effectively store and recall information, the way the brain remembers, etc… While preparing, I was trying to find a history poem to demonstrate that even the dates, people, events of history can be put into rhyme and aid the memory. This is what I found (though I didn’t use it with the students due to its PG rating):

I WANT A BOY

Henry Tudor said to Catherine
When he heard she was expecting
‘Darling, you must now prepare
To give birth to my son and heir
Girls are stupid, soft and silly
My baby has to have a willy.’

‘Sorry mate,’ said Henry’s wife
‘I may just be your trouble and strife
But it really isn’t up to me
Whether the baby’s a he or a she
My little egg is unisex
It’s YOUR SPERM that determines the sex.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Henry. ‘That’s not true.
The baby’s sex is down to you.
Don’t try and put the blame on me
If you have a girl, I’ll divorce you and leave
I’ll marry Anne Boleyn instead
And if Anne has a girl, I’ll chop off her head.’

And that’s exactly how Henry behaved
The wives who had daughters he never forgave
But now that the Tudors are long, long gone
We know Catherine was right and Henry was wrong

Life or Death

Just a question to perhaps get some feedback on. If we believe in the providence of God, the security of our soul in the heavenlies, and the unpredictability of this cosmos we walk on – how should we live? Or more pointedly what I want to ask (and am doing it badly) is: if we knew we had three months to live, would our life change? Or should it? Shouldn’t our days be filled with the uncertainty of this moment we call “life” and the vigor of God’s mission during it? Our days ARE numbered, why would it make a difference if we knew how many they were?