In the midst of disjointedness and randomness and utter chaos, occasionally a bit of unexpected order creeps in. When it does, one should probably listen to it, right? All those big questions are out there--What do I do with my life? Where do I go? What's the next step? etc., with no answers forthcoming. One of things I am sure about, however, is that right now I need to be working on my thesis, and I have seven weeks (well, six now) to work at Adventure Life only 25 hours a week, with my mornings fully dedicated to writing and researching. This year, Lent begins earlier than it has in over a century, and lasts 40 days (or six and a half weeks). Times like these, I think the cosmos is telling me something. My academic discipline is going hand in hand with my spiritual discipline, and there's some mental and emotional discipline happening, too. I'm curious to see where this Lenten journey takes me, where I'll be by Easter . . .
One result of earlier discipline (from about two years ago, actually) is the recent publication of one of my essays in Perspectives: A Journal of Reformed Thought. Exciting!
Besides the discipline, though, I've been having fun skiing in the all the great snow we're getting this winter, hanging out with Beth and Britta, having time to cook and bake again--finally!--and simply enjoying the season. Of course, we need some pictures.
Once again Christa and I drove over to Bozeman for a weekend of good contra dancing fun! Three cheers for dancing three days' straight on a VERY slippery floor! Ah, Wintergreen. It is a wonderful tradition. Check out the link and you'll see a familiar face.
Oh, and of course I don't have any pictures of the actual dance, but I do have pics of the gorgeous place we stayed!
And then, of course, there's been tons of snow this winter, and thus tons of fantastic skiing. I have gone with co-workers, like my friends Moe:
and Julia:
This past weekend I went up the Rattlesnake with Beth and Britta, and it was stunningly beautiful:
And we skied the WHOLE TIME . . . except when the expanse of perfect packing snow tempted us too strongly, and we succumbed thus:
creating a voluptuous snow goddess to reflect all our own goddess-like qualities. Ahem.
Below, our poles (and skis, for that matter, but they're rather buried), waiting for us to return from our creative work:
Then we skied away, quite merrily, until Beth called out in a resonant whisper, "MOOSE!" We turned, and there she was, not 20 feet away, munching on the shrubbery.
Just in case I needed a reminder of why I live in Montana.
