In Memoriam

Reviewing Indeed.com I am tempted to step outside my comfort zone and determine whether I might not have something to contribute elsewhere. However, my curiosity about the goings on at the office, combined with my conviction that I’m really not yet done learning what I’m supposed to learn there, persuades me to remain patient.

Pastor Begg’s elucidation of the Book of Ruth this week continues to instruct and inspire. His insistence that the Lord makes himself and his will known in the “hum-drum” of everyday life is something I cannot deny.

I've reflected on this idea from a variety of different perspectives, including that of my day-to-day occupation. And, while I don't think it is necessarily realistic of me to hold fast to remaining at my current employer indefinitely, I am simply not prepared to embark on an exhaustive job search without first finishing the things I've started, and fulfilling the expectations of a number of people, who are relying on me.

A year from now? Well, that’s a different story, isn’t it?

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The Folio Society invited me to subscribe to a new series of books: The Letterpress Shakespeare. At $395 a volume, I am disinclined to accept. Nevertheless, the brochure accompanying the invitation described a volume well worth the expense.

Who can afford such a luxury?

The same folks who can shell out $9k for a Super Bowl ticket, I suppose.

*

Arianna had a play date with her “bosom friend” P. J. today. Although P. J. does not know that Arianna refers to her using the same words Shirley Ann used to refer to her friend Diana, from what I know of Peyton, she would not mind.

What’s a source of genuine relief to me is the end of Arianna’s sorrow over the loss of her friend M.S. And when I say “loss” I mean it in the most superficial way. For, as I explained to Arianna, in a school as small as St. Catherine’s, over the next seven years, relationships will change and evolve. So, just because M.S. is not as interested in playing with Arianna as she was, say, last year, that does not mean that they will not become reacquainted next year, or sometime in the future.

I think Arianna understands this but doesn’t give it much thought. And why would she. After all, she has a “bosom friend” with whom she can eat lunch, play at recess, and giggle when on a play date.

*

Today is the third anniversary of my Father’s death. After three years, I am still emotionally jarred by thoughts of him.

Ouch!

Fourth graders knocked Arianna down on the playground at school today. It was unintentional, of course, but her face is bruised. Like the discoloration on her chin that resulted from her having dental work, her bruises sadden me. For, while I know that Arianna’s beauty emanates from her innocence and purity of heart, looking at her, I cannot help but believing that she is the prettiest Rudorf that I’ve ever known.

(D.I.M.N.) Das interessiert mich nicht

Americans’ obsession with celebrity begins to mount this time of year. Media – radio and TV, newspapers, blogs, what have you – vie to report on who’s an award ceremony contender. And I ask myself, “Why should I have any interest in the professional standing of an actor?”

Considering this in the pre-dawn hours, when radio newscasters alert me of the potential Oscar candidates, I am hard pressed to feel collegial with my fellow Americans. Especially on a day such as today – when the President of the United States makes his State of the Union speech (which will be heard and / or viewed by a minority of media consumers relative to the number of people who tune in to watch the Academy Awards ceremony).

*

Am I cranky this evening, or what?

Uno

Arianna is 77 months old today! What changes we’ve seen. No more is this evident than when I spend time sorting through the photos I’ve taken of her since her birth. Physical stature notwithstanding, the increase in her level of maturity – even since the beginning of the school year – is dramatic. I am proud of her.

For her 6^th birthday, I gave Arianna the game called Uno. In August, she was not to interested in playing. It was too complicated. Yesterday, and this evening too, Arianna really enjoyed playing.

We all had a lot of fun. And, Grandpa’s antics reminded me of those holidays, when Sharon and I, her Dad and Mom would sit at the kitchen table playing Spades or Hearts. Were we only able to enjoy each other’s company with as little stress all the time.

*

Listening to Truth for Life this morning, Rev. Begg made a point – an aside, really – about parents or in-laws being generous in accepting the help offered to them by their children. He noted that the consequence of their not being generous was often a feeling of bitterness on the part of the children. Without question, I’ve often felt ill-used over these past six years. And have felt so precisely because Bruno hasn’t expressed appreciation for the sacrifices Sharon and I have made since returning to Chicagoland to live with and care for him. I no longer feel that way. I no longer have any expectations. When Sharon’s Mom died, the privilege to help her Dad presented itself and I recommended that we should undertake it. If I imagined that our life together would be a rollicking good time akin to our Christmas visits, I have long since divested myself of that scenario.

*

Icicles hang from the gutters. This morning I rose at 4:45 a.m. and shoveled the driveway. After the initial sense of having violated the silence of the pre-dawn hours, I enjoy the peace of working outside beneath the stars.

*

I tire of having to pick up the slack for colleagues, the result of which is invariably a reheated dinner.

Typisch

A tranquil day. Cold, bright, with a lovely deep blue sky.

This morning, as I drove to Mass, the sheer beauty of the surrounding “countryside” compelled me to count my blessings. Difficult as it often is for me to put up with this broken down old house, I recognize how fortunate I am to be living in such a picturesque neighborhood.

After Mass, Confession; then, a series of errands that kept me from getting home until 11:30.

Sharon is out this evening – out, somewhere in Chicago, making like an old woman hanging on the wash line with the neighbor. She, of course, would say that her Falun Gong meetings were important. –Irreconcilable differences.

In anticipation of the Sharon’s absence, one of this morning’s errands was to pick up a copy of ET. When she saw what I’d brought home from Blockbuster’s, Arianna thought she’d already seen the film. I couldn’t imagine where she’d seen it, since neither Sharon not I watched it with her. As it happens, she hadn’t seen it. And, yes, my intuition was spot on: both she and Grandpa enjoyed watching the movies together.

*

Farmer Boy and Molly Learns a Lesson. That’s right; we’re juggling two books right now. It’s a wonder Arianna can keep them both straight. She does, though. And, in fact, is very decided on which of the stories coincides with her mental or emotional state. Since we’ve been double dipping into Farmer Boy – Mommy read her two chapters yesterday – tonight Arianna requested Molly Learned a Lesson. As a rule, the high-gloss entertainment industry titans, leave me cold. But, in this case, even I have to concede that the American Girl stories aren’t half bad. Now, whether I drop the $100 plus for one of the dolls is another story altogether….

*

Tonight it was ET, tomorrow it’ll be Bears-mania. Or maybe not. We were talking about the “big game” at supper and, true to form, Bruno is not rooting for the home town team. Why is anybody’s guess.

Dodged Bullet

Chicagoland was fortunate. The weather system that has plagued the Great Plains bypassed it completely. Oh, the temperature has dropped; and there’s even snow on the ground, too. No ice, though. Thank goodness.

When I think of what it must be like in Kansas City, I’m at loss to imagine how my family would endure a prolonged period of time without electricity. Today I read that KCMO had a downtown temperature reading of 2 degrees. Were we still living there, I think we’d have had no choice but to fire up the hearth. Or, vacate our residence on Moats until the power was restored.

Today Sharon started teaching at Elgin Community College. Despite the family-friendly hours, I anticipate that this will have a ripple effect on our daily routine – such as it is. But, she is excited to be back in a classroom and interacting with young people again.

Our Christmas tree/s and decorations are stowed away for another year. It took us a long time to box everything up. Arianna was sad to see the tree come down. In fact, for a short while she refused to help us. After Mommy coaxed her out of her mood, she pitched right in. –Even Grandpa helped out.

How empty the living room looks without the tree.

Of course, in its absence Arianna’s toys have quickly found a new home. {sigh}

Since 1996 I have started four online journals. The journal written between 2000 and 2001 was the most productive. It’s doubtful whether this current exercise will be as long lived. I’ve already begun to wonder why I do it. The reasons for abandoning this are obvious to me:

(1)              I note this and that in my Moleskin on an almost daily basis

(2)              Our family life is inescapably dull

(3)              Nobody could possibly be interested in what I write – irrespective of the topic.

On the other hand, in and of itself – regardless of the infrequency to date – the activity fosters a measure of discipline of which I believe I am in need.

Treadmill

For the past several years now, January incites restlessness, a sense of being disconnected, and dissatisfaction. Perhaps it’s the planning of work that appears to be gratuitous. Perhaps it’s having to plan the work with people for whom I have little affection.

I alluded to this state of mind to a manager, with whom I have a good rapport, and he conceded that just the other day he confided to his wife that he felt he ought to be looking for another job. In short, he similarly experiences angst as the year begins.

This is of little consolation and provides me nothing in the way of resolving the conflict within me.

My current reading of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans makes me genuinely ashamed. For I oughtn’t be anything other than a living sacrifice to the Lord, unconfirmed to the world, and therefore dispassionate as to whether my role at the office is of significance. Rather I ought to be thankful for having the ability and opportunity to be of service. And, I ought to do so cheerfully.

Humility is not without its daily challenges.

*

Sharon will begin teaching a course in Literary History next week at Elgin Community College. She will teach twice a week, at mid-day – a schedule that does not impact Arianna or her father in the least bit. Of course, class preparations will have to occur in the evening, but some amount of time away from the family is to be expected.

Financially, this contributes little to the Rudorf treasury. Sharon freely acknowledges this and is, I believe, more interested in the activity than the remuneration.

Nevertheless, as the year commences I can hardly ignore the fact that we are running in place. A less charitable point of view would argue we are falling behind. And, it would be difficult to refute the point, given that health care, waste disposal, and electric costs have all increased, as has the obligatory [sic] cable bill.

Has my salary increased?

When the Federal government claims that earnings have risen, I really am at a loss to understand the basis from which analysts make their claim. Typically, workers’ earnings are adjusted only once a year, however, costs escalate periodically.

*

Still walking around with a cold. [Ed.: No doubt the reason for the downcast mood. CFR, 2/2012]

*

Winter-like temperatures.

Frost

A heavy frost covered the ground this morning. When I went outside to fetch the Chicago Tribune from the curb, the air was cold and heavy with mist. As Arianna and I past Lake Sharon on the way to Mass, I noted to her that ice had started to form at its surface.

Meteorologists threaten Chicagoland with normal January temperatures this week. It will be welcome.

In the meantime, I have begun looking through the seed catalogs that I've gotten in the mail. I believe they are early. But, since I’m the most keen on gardening here, I cannot verify my claim.

I note with interest that 2007 marks the 100^th anniversary of the J.W. Jung Seed Company. Their catalog is enlarged with interesting photos of past and present Randolph, Wisconsin digs, long-time employees, and a short company history.

As I said to Arianna the other day, the arrival of these catalogs when snow and ice are piled high on the roof inspires one to dream. Their arrival in March-like weather only incites a measure of disgust.

Read a snatch of Little House in the Big Woods before Mass to Arianna. Later, she implored me to read more of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, a book I bought for her last year but only presented to her now due to a resurgent interest in the so-called “magical boy.” My having never read or had much interest in J.M. Barrie’s creation, I have been surprised at how different the characterization of Peter Pan is in the book than in the Disney film. For instance, today we learned that Peter Pan escaped his humanity when he flew out of the nursery at 7 days old to return to Kensington Gardens.

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Ham for supper.

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The Christmas trees are still illuminated, though we have managed to remove the packages beneath. This week will begin the tedious process of putting the house to rights. Were it not for the (over) abundance of “heirloom” decorations – some of Bruno’s glass ornaments date to the 40’s – the job would not be as slow a process as it is. And this year . . . with a second tree in the basement . . . .

Slow it must be though; with our having to wrap each ornament in tissue paper and then locate its box, I will not be surprised if I haven’t an opportunity to begin the process of storing the goods until next Monday evening at the earliest.

One so delights in uncovering all the old familiar Christmas decorations in December, and dawdles so in January, when it is time to resume the routines of daily life.

Little House

This evening Sharon and I read two more chapters of Little House in the Big Woods to Arianna. Uncle Greg, Arianna’s Godfather, and his wife, Aunt Ronda, sent her the book at Christmas. We are all enjoying it very much.

When I finished reading, I asked Arianna whether she thought that she would want to read the book herself someday, my question was met with silence. Is this typical for a six year old?

The story of the Ingall family impresses me with how dramatically changed the United States is today. Of course, you say. The 19^th century was still a nascent industrial civilization. Yes, yes. But this is not what I mean at all.

As I thumbed the pages of the book I noted with displeasure that it had been manufactured in China. I recently noted that A Miracle on 34^th Street, a book Arianna’d received from the Stuart Brent Children’s Book Club was also manufactured in China – The People’s Republic of China.

Juxtaposed against the child-like telling of a story of frontier courage, forbearance, and industry, this fact – that our politicians have mortgaged our economic independence in the name of so-called ‘share-holder value’ – diminishes the sacrifice of so many men and women, from Jamestown and Plymouth colony through the last homesteaders of Alaska (and then some), who, I imagine, would just as soon return to the squalor of the cities where they labored than be indebted to the likes of communists.

And this last point in particular – that our civil leaders, the men and women who we’ve entrusted to work on our behalf – have colluded with captains of industry, and opted to outsource our manufacturing prowess to countries, who, in years past were publicly decried as our sworn enemy, is unfathomable. And, seditious.

If globalization is good for the American worker it has not yet been demonstrated to me. Today, for example, I went shopping for clothes at J.C. Penny – slacks and dress shirts to wear at the office. None of the clothes I bought were Made in USA. The countries of origin of my purchases were China, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Nicaragua. Since we’re told that the workers in these countries make pennies on the dollar, I would be curious to see the cost breakdown that justifies a charge of, say, $60 for a pair of slacks.

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Box elder bugs cling to life.

Notwithstanding El Nino, January temperatures that are 20 degrees above the norm are unsettling. And appreciated. At least us oldsters.

Today was a quiet day. Sharon drove downtown to participate in a Falun Gong rally. Arianna and I spent the day together, playing. Grandpa worked the puzzle, dozed, and while I was preparing supper ran the electric trains. –Their days are numbered, as they are for the Christmas tree and decorations.

Surprisingly, Christmas greetings still arrive. A few days ago we received a greeting from the Falloon’s of Munster, Indiana, who celebrate the Serbian Orthodox Rite. Today, we received a greeting from the Coykendall’s of Wentworth, New Hampshire. I had no expectation if hearing from Tabitha and Scott, but enjoyed reading that they have made a home for themselves and their daughters in New England. As different as New Hampshire must surely be from Illinois and Missouri, they seem to be thriving.

Tomorrow is Epiphany. Monday Arianna returns to school.