The Hyphen House

Some friends invited us to go with Houston Wilderness to visit a local organic farm. The day would start with a "leisurely" bike ride on country roads. We love to bike, but by that I mean a few miles here and there. I think our longest ride had been about 6 miles.

I started to get worried when we met the rest of the group, ten folks who look like they do this sort of thing every weekend. They had actual biking clothes and fancy bike racks on their cars. Then I really started to get worried when Eric got the map and added up the mileage--22.5 miles. So I psyched myself up for it, and we head out in Brazoria county with the group. It was a windy day, so we pedaled into some breezes, then turned into an idyllic stillness, passing cows and fields of corn and picturesque barns.

And then we turned again. Into wind. Into awful wind. We dropped our bikes to the lowest gear and ducked our heads to no avail. It felt like we moved at a snail's pace. Fellow bikers did share our frustration, so we knew it wasn't just us. At least 12 miles of the trip we faced that horrible wind, but we made it the whole way. We felt pretty good about ourselves. But not about the wind.

The grower took us on a tour of her farm, Sullivan's Happy Heart, a beautiful collection of herbs and vegetables and fruits, all completely organic. She's pretty hardcore, only using a shovel and till, nothing mechanized. She even has a goat to trim the lawn. Fresh eggs and rabbits and goats are also on the property. She sells at farmer's markets and to a few restaurants who value local produce. It was so inspiring and clean (I felt really bad about using mosquito repellent).

To top off the experience a Houston caterer (and the farmer's boyfriend) prepared us dinner using all local, organic items (much of it from that farm). We were thankful for the wind then, relaxing under the tent and enjoying our food.

My parents were conservationists long before it was cool, teaching us to be good stewards of God's creation. We reused everything: my sister even had a "stuff bucket" full of odds and ends that she turned into various craft projects. My dad, an engineer, did everything possible to reduce energy: in one case he even chilled his morning drink outside overnight so as not to suck unnecessary energy from the fridge. We recycled: in particular I had a profound experience collecting recyclables and sharing them with a homeless man in California. We abstained from junk food: on Saturdays we had a "junk food day" that allowed us to engage in unhealthy eating, but other than that we were good to our bodies (and thus the earth). We ate from health food stores long before that was chic: in part due to my sister's severe food allergies, we purchased rice bread, corn pasta, and soy milk (among other "special" foods) from the tiny shop 30 minutes away in middle-of-nowhere Wyoming. We planted: there was always a garden of some sort, flowers or food, and even a compost pile in our yard in West Texas.

So these lessons have stuck with me. Recycling is like a game to me, and even though our house misses the city pick-up by one street, I still collect and drive to the recycling center every other week (on my way to somewhere, of course, can't go wasting gas! :). I take canvas bags everywhere. I bike whenever possible. These are all little things, and might not save the earth, but they all make me more conscious of my dramatic impact on the planet.


Most recently, we have joined an organic produce co-op. I've known about it for a few years, but to be honest was really intimidated. I didn't know how it worked, and I feared that signing up for a "share" would mean one week I'd get two pounds of swiss chard we had no idea what to do with. And I thought since we're not vegan and we sometimes eat fast food we wouldn't belong. But finally some friends explained the process, and we finally had a pattern down for cooking and grocery shopping, so we felt empowered to try it out.

We signed up for a small mixed share, which means each week I pay $15 and I get a grab-bag of produce. It's all organic and local whenever possible, but due to high demand they have to import some from other states. Each week is different, based on the availability of the farms. Today, I came away with green beans, eggplant, apples, cilantro, mango, celery, and some others I can't remember. Last week it was potatoes, kale, carrots, etc. It's like a fun surprise every time, and it's all so beautiful and colorful. And we're learning how to cook and prepare (and juice!) new things. Try fresh kale sauteed with pinenuts and paremsan... delicious!

I figure with all the things I do daily to damage the earth, these are significant steps in caring for it, in their own right. It's a definite journey, and we're taking it step by step. (Next step: start using a compost crock or bin, and taking it to the community compost pile once per week). I am consistently amazed at the complexity of the earth and thank God for His design, and for entrusting us with it. Happy Earth Day!

"The earth is the Lord's and everything in it."

Ironically this reflection follows Eric's post on wineries... but they are unrelated. :)

Vineyard Churches actually grew out of the Calvary Chapel movement in the 1970s as a non-denominational, evangelical church emphasizing the work of the Holy Spirit. Today, there are over 1,500 Vineyard congregations worldwide. They are known for praise and worship music and missions.

The congregation we attended is quite ethnically diverse. I've found that churches that are more charismatic in nature seem to be so, and without much effort. As the charismatic spectrum goes, Vineyard is pretty mellow. I loved the praise and worship. Their worship leader is a woman with a really incredible spirit and a gift for converging artists of all mediums (they host a once per month gathering of artists to share their work and commune with each other). The songs were sung in both English and Spanish, which made me ache for my Spanish-speaking days (I used to be almost fluent, now I'm sooo rusty). Banners on the wall emphasized grace, mercy and peace in different languages. The pastor preached about "waking up", recounting his conversion experience and hoping for something equally meaningful for everyone there.

I particularly enjoyed the lack of inhibitions during the singing. It still felt orderly to me, but people danced around a little, clapped, said some amens, etc. In this kind of atmosphere, it's ok for men to cry and women to speak, countering cultural norms in expression to God. I think I like the emotional responses in worship because the rest of my life often feels so guarded. I felt encouraged to abandon some of that.

God is moving here to spread the Good News through missions and song. As my friend APN puts it, Vineyard consistently writes and releases "non-cookie cutter" praise and worship songs, that are deep in content. I also see God moving in their intentional global vision. They seemed to be focused on ministering to a diverse group within their own city and beyond.

As we left we picked up a visitor's packet, which contained information about the church, and, you guessed it, a Vineyard worship cd.

We spent the four-day weekend in Fredricksburg to celebrate my birthday. For those who don't know, Fredricksburg is an old German settlement in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, NW of San Antonio. It is a premium tourist destination for those who love German and Texas culture, wine, wildflowers, shopping, and relaxation. We stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast that was actually an old cabin on a small converted farm. We had our own cabin with a loft and a full size jacuzzi outside. It was wonderful.

One of the highlights of our trip was our visit to Grape Creek Vineyards. Over the last 20 years, the Hill Country has become a major wine center. Grape Creek is one of the newer wineries, and we were able to tour the facilities and enjoy a tasting of their specialty wine straight from the barrels. We are both new wine afficianados, so we learned a lot from our tour. They showed us how the wine is fermented, processed, and bottled. It was really cool. I know wine is complex, which is one of the reasons I find it so fascinating, but I had no idea how the winemakers so carefully control the fermentation temperatures, the types of barrels that the reds ferment in, and the mix of flavors. I am on my way to becoming a true wine connoisieur, but I can't yet afford to be a wine snob.

Here are a few things I have learned about wine over the last year:

No two wines are alike.
Cheap wine is sometimes really good, but when it isn't...
Red wine makes me blush.
Wines with the cool labels taste better.
I still am pretty clueless about wine-food pairings, but I have learned that wines from certain countries match well with the foods from those countries. For example, Argentine Malbec goes well with Argentine steak.
Speaking of Malbec, Argentines know that they are the best at everything, but when it comes to wine, they really are the best.
Movies about wine and wine snobs are still not enjoyable to watch.
Texas wines are great because the vineyards are small, personal, and creative.
Trying to buy wine at a specialty store is a huge task for an indecisive person like me.
Wine is always best by candlelight with the one you love.

I am SO glad Lent is over. It's my least favorite 40 days on the Church calendar.

I'm relatively new to Lenten observance, having spent most of my life in churches that did not make a big deal of it. But that last few years I've given it a try. I don't so much mind abstaining from something (although I have only been successful one full Lent in fasting from the chosen item). And I really enjoy Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday.

But what I don't personally handle well is the aspect of trying to remember life without Christ. Crosses are covered, communion is curtailed. It feels very dark to me, and I get a little depressed every year. I realize the value of commemorating death and sacrifice in order to fully value the Resurrection, but it seems a little much.

What I really like, of course, is celebrating the Resurrection. Easter has always been an important celebration for my family, usually involving family gatherings and Easter eggs and, always, church.

This year Eric and I planned a trip over Easter because he had a four day weekend and it was right before his birthday. We had a great time, but it hit me as we were driving that this would be one of the few Easters I spent away from my family, and I'm almost positive it would be the first year ever I did not attend church. It felt strange a somehow a little lonely at first.

So, to observe Resurrection Sunday, we bought a small bottle of grape juice and tore a hunk of bread off some store-bought rolls. Sunday morning we hiked up to the top of Enchanted Rock, then down through the park to a pond called Moss Lake. We sat under a tree and prepared our communion. He read John's account of Christ's Resurrection and we served each other.



"This is the body of Christ, broken for you."

"This is the blood of Christ, shed for you."

We were interrupted shortly thereafter by a woman trying to keep her dog away from us. And that was it. Our Easter Sunday. It was simple and memorable and there wasn't much to it. But I felt lighter the whole day, enjoying God's creativity in the form of a granite mountain, marveling at the plants that grow through rocks, inhaling the sunlight, and forging trails where they didn't exist.

Because Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed.

We love the Houston Zoo. We try to go pretty regularly, and we even have a few must see animals that we hurry to see when we first walk through the gate. In fact, we love the zoo so much that I have fantasized on more than one occasion about quitting my job and training to become a zoo keeper.

Last night, the Houston Zoo hosted its annual Zoobilee, and of course, we went. Many of the trainers were out to talk about the animals, and there were games and fun activities for kids. We even got some free animal crackers.

We went to see the elephants first (as we always do). The trainer was there talking about the new elephants and their behaviors. We have met the elephant trainers before, but we always relish the opportunity of hearing every detail of the elephants' lives, especially the new baby Tuck and the expectant mother Shanti. Incidentally, elephants gestate for two years - yes, two years, followed by the birth of a 300 pound calf!

We also got to see the cheetahs fetch balls. The cheetahs are in my top five (along with the sea lions, elephants, orangutans, and sea turtles). The new "world's cutest animal" has just arrived, so we got to see him too. He is a red panda named Toby, and he is indeed very cute. They are trying to find him a mate, so they can have the "world's cutest baby animals." The other highlight of our time at the zoobilee was of course the sea lion show, my personal favorite. The sea lion reminds me so much of our dog. She knows how to do many tricks, but sometimes she lacks the focus to do them and instead gives the trainer the just-give-me-a-treat-already face that our dog so frequently gives us.

I was thinking today about what my display would look like if I lived at the zoo. First, I would be listed as a thriving species, not endangered like the orangutans. There would be information about my diet (In the wild, EKH normally eats vegetables, roasted animals, and large amounts of chemical preservatives and artificials flavors.) and my reproductive habits (You thought I was just going to give that away without you paying admission?). There would be a map showing my normal habitat range (anywhere with decent weather and a vibrant urban life). There would also be a chart of my most notable adaptations (opposable thumbs, bipedalism, the ability to reason, and the ability to play dead when his head touches a pillow). People would come and take pictures of me and comment on everything I did:

"Mom, look! He's checking his e-mail."
"He eats so fast!"
"Why is he always asleep when we come?"

When I boil my life down to zoo facts, it seems pretty awesome. I think that is probably why I like hearing the trainers talk about the animals. They have a relationship with them. They tell you about all the things a "Wikipedia" page won't. Up close like that, these animals don't seem much different than me, except they are a lot less shy about using public restrooms.