September: End of Month Roundup
Ways I've played in September
Last week I wrote the first of a two-part series comparing the Arabian Nights Tales to Old Testament book of Esther (part one); and, more broadly, answering the question: Why study the Bible as a work of literature (part two)?
I’m not shirking on part two. But I am moving it to next week, so I can share with you ways I’ve played in September. If you’re new around here, you can go back to read this post to understand the inspiration behind these end-of-month roundups, and here to read last month’s roundup (my first one).
So, without further delay, here are some ways I played in September:
A museum visit while in Indy. Over Labor Day weekend, my husband and I tripped to Indianapolis to see dear friends from college and watch their son play college football. He plays for Butler University. It’s his senior year. While we were there I snuck away during some down time and visited the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art. I saw some gorgeous artwork—a wall-sized mural of the Grand Canyon, vibrant Native American paintings, intricate beadwork, and many famous and romanticized Remingtons of the American Southwest.
Visiting this used bookstore in Selinsgrove, PA. D.J. Ernst Books is probably the nicest used bookstore I’ve ever visited. I confess to being a bookstore snob, which means I sometimes don’t do well with used bookstores, especially if they smell overly musty, or are so crammed with books that I feel like I need to start cleaning or reorganizing or whittling the piles down to size (I also don’t shop sale racks at giant department stores for much the same reason). But not so at D.J. Ernst. It was spacious and well-organized and full of gems. The owner was kind and chatty and told us the story of how his bookstore came to be, nearly 50 years ago, now. Best part: he doesn’t take credit cards. He takes cash, checks, or I.O.U.’s. Here is our stack of books. Thankfully we had just enough cash to cover their cost:
A short peak at the “oldest unchanged Lutheran Church building in the United States.” A mouthful, I know. One of our sons happens to live five minutes from Old Trappe—Augustus Lutheran Church, established in 1717 in Providence, PA. The “Old Church” was build in 1743 and has had continuous services running in it since, still in its original state. A “new” brick church was built in the mid-1800s and has gone through a couple renovations (the woman I spoke with said the last “major’ renovation happened in the late 1800s!). We were invited to come and worship with them for Christmas Eve where they hold their traditional Lessons and Carols service. “Don’t dress in your Christmas best,” the woman said. “Dress warm. And bring your flashlight.” Sounds wonderful!
Another museum! Last weekend we were in Jackson, MS for our football son’s game against Millsaps College. I took the opportunity to go a couple days early for some alone time and play (you can see my Friday morning work view here). While there, I visited the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum. It was a sobering and powerful walkthrough of the fight for civil rights across the American South. The images and stories, senseless hate, courage, brokenness and resiliancy… It was painful and humbling. At its center ran this beautiful work of art hanging from the ceiling. It came down like the cloud of the Spirit. It shone with radiating light that danced along its tendrils, out into the rest of the darkend galleries, all while the gospel song, This Little Light of Mine filled the air (the link takes you to a video of the actual display running).
Eudora Welty’s House and Garden. Also while in Jackson, I toured Eurdora Welty’s home. I’m not super acquainted with Welty’s fiction. I read The Optimist’s Daughter over a decade ago, and her short story, “No Place for You My Love,” some less years ago. Both have that distinct strange southern mystique infused through them; this unpinpointable, but ever-present impression of being odd. Not a bad odd, mind you. On the contrary. It’s a kind of odd that leaves me both uncomfortable, and wanting more. Disturbed and allured. Exposed and daring. I don’t know. It’s the south. And permeates Welty’s work. Her home was magnificent. There were stacks of books everywhere, staged just as the Mississippi historical society found it after her death in 2002. It seemed entirely possible that Ms. Welty herself might come round the corner at any moment and offer us tea.
Middle of the day movie watching. In a Substack note some time ago, Joel J. Miller, in a Substack note, recommended the Italian documentary, Umberto Eco: A Library of the World. It took me about a month, but I finally sat down to watch it. In the middle of an afternoon, no less. It was wonderful (once I figured out how to make the closed captioning run in English). The libraries alone were mind-boggling. Some of them didn’t look real. Best however, was hearing from Umberto Eco himself. Some of my favorite quotes (all in relation to our present information/internet age):
“The first function of memory is to preserve. The second function is to select.”
“We used to share a commonly shared knowledge. We could actually challenge it on specific issues, arguing about it. If we do not share this common knowledge, human relationship cannot exist.”
“Too much information can destroy knowledge. To many things together produce noise and noise is not a tool for knowledge.”
“I feel I had a full and long childhood because I stole somebody else’s memories”
“And this is what being human means, the ability to think of things that are not there.”
Made chimichuri sauce… without a recipe. This was not my choice. My husband came home one afternoon and announced he bought lamb and the ingredients for chimichuri sauce and would I please make up the sauce while he prepared the lamb. I do not like making new things without a recipe. Especially when they have names that sound more like “chia pet” than “pork chop.” In other words, foreign in every way; not in my food prep repertoire. But, kudos to him. I took the ingredients, made it up, and it turned out pretty tasty. Then, he forced me to make it again under the pressure of friends coming over, and behold! It turned out better than last time. All because I decided to let it fly and play.
I think that’s most of the ways I’ve played. We’ve had quite a bit of travel this month, so I tried to take advantage of exploring the places where we’ve stayed. One thing, however, that struck me while touring Eudora Welty’s home: the couple I did the tour with (there were only three of us) commented that they were ashamed to admit how they’ve lived here in Jackson—in the same neighborhood even—for nearly their entire lives (at least the husband has), read most her books, and had never yet been to tour her home.
Which has me thinking: What treasures are in my own “neighborhood” that I haven’t yet explored or gotten to know?? Maybe some of these will begin making appearances on future Roundups.
I hope this month has been full of play for you, large and small alike. I’d love to hear! Please share in the comments section.
And, remember:
Christ plays in ten thousand places.
Let us join in the play.
Much Love,
Shari