Monday, April 16, 2012

Maps, Maps, Maps

I love maps. It is a pretty intense situation, my love. One of the best things about my job is that I get to look at maps all day long. Looking at maps to find people, to find cities, to find townships, to find stores or addresses, to find land marks or highways or intersections.

It is surprising and kind of funny that no one ever really knows where they are (with all the access we have to maps these days.. right?). But I get to pull up my best friend GoogleMaps and search away! Last week, using my map skills, I was able to find a road that no one else could find! Good old Shirley-Leominster Road that is like one foot long.

Since people are always driving everywhere, I get to learn about some of the most captivating places. I can take one call, google map it, and then spend the rest of my shift learning about a new place (in between other calls and work of course).

Anyways, I figured I would share three of my recent discoveries with you! Take a gander:


Did you know that Old Oaken Bucket Road in Plymouth, Massachusetts actually has a world famous poem written about it, and also has a Big Ten college football trophy named after it?!



Who knew that off the coast of New Hampshire and Maine lie a small gaggle of islands known as the Isles of Shoals? These were discovered by John Smith in 1620, used as fishing villages populating up to 1,000 people, then as an artistic colony, then resort getaway in the 19th century, and now sit mostly uninhabited except for a lighthouse and Star Island which is owned by the Unitarian Universalist Association as a camp ground. (Maybe a few ghosts as well)


In my own Smith Hill neighborhood lies an entire historic DISTRICT! This was quite surprising to learn about from Google maps, as I pass these little houses a few times a week. (Since this picture was taken, they have all been painted different colors). This district, called the Andrew Dickhaut Cottages Historic District, consists of 18 homes on Bath, Orms, and Duke Street in Providence built in the 1800s. They were small worker's cottages built, owned, and rented by an entrepreneurial butcher from New York City. Here you can see the names and professions of all those who lived in these cottages in 1892, which is super interesting! That link also references information from the National Register of Historic Places.

I am hooked. And haven't even begun talking about the wonder of Google Earth.


Have you ever discovered something new from a map? 


p.s. even one of my favorite songs is called "Maps" (by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.)

Monday, April 2, 2012

Experience New England: Lowell

Adam, Niki, Sarah, Hannah, Chris
Lowell, the fourth largest city in Massachusetts, has been on my radar for a few years. The christian student fellowship of University of Massachusetts Lowell is pretty involved in the same circles that Johnson & Wales campus ministry was, so I know a few people from the area, but I've never had a reason to visit or learn more about the city.

 Until now. My good friend Sarah (who also happened to live with me a few summers ago) moved to Lowell to work as a semester missionary on the UMassLowell campus, and a couple of us from Providence decided to head up there for a little day trip to explore the city and have little reunion with Sarah! 

Before my trip I did some research on the city. All I really knew was that it had a lot of mills (simply because everything there has "mill" in the title), and that it was in the Merrimack Valley (a AAA term).

Well, yes it is on the Merrimack River, and about an hour and a half drive north of Providence. And the city lays home to many old mill buildings, many reconstructed into lofts and apartment communities.




We started off in the historic down town at Brewed Awakenings, and our friend Sarah gave a grand tour (coffee included) of the fascinating historic district. We wandered down to the Riverwalk, a delightful walkway right next to the famous Merrimack River. A few little children passed us on bikes with their parents meandering behind. There were ducks and geese along the river and a wonderful evening view of industrial bridges and landscape.

We made a giant loop near City Hall, past an old train turned into adult play ground, back to our cars. Sarah gave us a driving/walking tour of the University of Massachusetts Lowell campus, which was a pretty large campus, and where we topped the hill with the best view of Lowell around:

Holy Moly!

Dinner was at the unique Egg Roll Cafe, where we each picked out some delicious egg rolls and curry soups to try. (Everything from pizza to Buffalo to Chicken egg rolls) Yum! And we walked over to Sarah's apartment to hang out for the rest of the night.

Lowell is definitely an beautiful little city that I want to know more about. In the summer there is the Lowell Folk Festival, and many other out door activities. Sadly the Visitor Center was closed when we walked past, but I, of course, want to check that out too and get a few post cards.

Hopefully that will happen this summer!
Have you been to Lowell? Do you have a favorite restaurant, hang out, etc?

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Corduroy Jackets, Faith, and Questions

As I shuffled through piles of spiral bound notebooks on my shelf, looking for one with the perfect amount of empty pages to capture any thoughts I could possibly have, a rough looking one caught my attention. Dated almost a decade ago, it appeared to be a journal from high school yesteryear. I shoved it in my purse next to some books that I thought would provoke note taking, and headed downcity to get some reading done.

Of course I pulled the blue notebook out first, pages filed with the scribbles of my 14 year old self. The first few pages were full of the typicalities of that year. Directions on making the perfect duct tape messenger bag and a long list of inspirational quotes, including: "I have learned a lesson from all the lessons I have learned." (How inspirational, yeah?)

Reading further in, one specific entry caught my eye and made me think. It talked about a recent purchase that I had made. Essentially, I had always wanted a corduroy jacket. Apparently that was the style for high school freshman in 2003 (or something). Well, I found one at the local BonTon (imagine JCPenney and Bed Bath and Beyond combined into one store), it was green and calling my name, so I bought it. For $32. Perfect right? Well, it was a boys jacket and it fit, except not really (stupid girl hips). But I had a gift card! I still remember it to this day, and wonder why in the heavens my mom let me do that.

I was prompted to text my mom asking her if she remembered the situation, which she indeed did. She said that she wondered about my ability to get what I want because I want it and then figure out how to make it work, as if it were some magical strength. (I do recall wearing it a few times, though it was a tight in awkward places and loose in awkward places).

While my ability to get what I want and make it work seems like a strength in some perspectives- I think I see it differently- almost as a weakness that I end up having to jerry rig. Could I have found a jacket that actually fit and looked somewhat decent? Probably! Had I just held on for a little longer and looked around a little more, surely there would have been a "stylish," (green), (womens) corduroy jacket with my name blazed across it. Impatiently, I took the first thing that seemed to resemble what I want.

Curiously, I wonder if this reflects a deeper attitude in my life.  

Not to infer that a bad fashion choice as a 14 year old reflects my adult life choices, but maybe. 

Do I want something and then take the first thing that even slightly resembles it? Or do I trust in God to provide what most glorifies Him, and wait for timing that might be alternative to mine? Sigh. This question cuts into my soul with a heavy, dull, but quite relevant knife.

At the moment, answers allude me, and this post might be drowning in over-processed mire. It is almost midnight after all. 

Do you have any answers or thoughts?

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Fog and Pain

I just wanted to visit some friends.

Woke up early, dressed, maybe took a few too many minutes to get ready.
Grabbed some pancake ingredients, put the eggs in a baggie in my pocket.
Put on my sneakers- maybe they were moccasins- ran out the door into the brisk morning.

"It's  going to be okay, I am an occupational therapist!" A strange man stopped his white 15 passenger and ran to my side as I lay on the icy ground grasping for air.

The eggs survived.
Two months ago, my last normal step.

Today the beautiful Narragansett Bay looked sun kissed and the green grass was frolic ready. I took my first step and felt a twang. If it isn't my knee, it's my foot. Probably both. After every step I forget, and during every step I remember. Guilt creeps in, I feel lazy, but then I take another step and the pain shoots up my leg.

The doctor said I need a second opinion. All I have to do is call the specialist. I've turned into my dad.
"I don't want to bother anyone to take me."
"I don't want to pay for any procedure."
"I cant afford to take off work."

I'm going to die alone?

If I tie my shoes extra tight, and the orthopedic insert fits perfectly into my lackluster arch- I can make this work. How ridiculous.

Where is my trust in God for provision and healing? Where is my reliance on people for support and help? Where is my "can-do" attitude that wants to conquer all? Where am I?

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Trains

About an hour outside of Rome, New York, I am sitting on this slow moving train heading from Buffalo to New York City. We pass through nothing dramatic or exceptionally scenic. Melting snow covers the muddy woods, aged out factories, and small towns covered in rust. The bouncing click clack of the rails almost rocks me to sleep if I'm not careful.

For the mundane passing by, I do have some curiousities.

The other day riding the bus to work I saw a man walking down the sidewalk picking his nose. He looked right at the bus, but only saw a bus- not a tin can full of people staring back at him.

People must only see railroad tracks and trains, and don't remember the people who like to look out windows. Maybe that's why they built their houses right to the edge of the tracks. Some sort of perceived security or safety. There is nothing protected about taking a shower in your back yard when train creates the back fence. I saw that spectacle when I was on an electric train going from Zavolzh'ye to Niznhy Novgorod.

Trains get to wander through the woods in places labelled "Posted: No Trespassing: Violator's will be shot," without a single bullet heading it's way. They are lucky.

As we traverse through the forests in the middle of nowhere, I see stone walls that only man could have built. It seems that this was not always the middle of nowhere.

Orange juice and books on the seat tray to my left, there is still plenty of time for contemplation. "Miles and miles to go before we sleep," if you will. I wonder what everyone else is doing back home, where ever that is. I wonder where everyone else is going, here on this train.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

In What Ways Have I Seen God's Grace to Me Lately?

As I was provoking my mind to list the many ways God has shown me grace lately, a poem that I had written in 2003 came to mind. It is quite simplistic (and strangely philosophical), but does the job of reminding me of the many, often forgotten graces God has extended. I can imagine as a seventh grader just coming home from a long walk down by the canal, or maybe coming inside after a long day of reading on the swing in the back yard and reflecting on God's goodness to me.

God is Great
By Alissa Graham (2003)


Blades of grass and every tree, 
shows how good God is to me.
He pours down rain to wash away fears,
He has guided me well through the years.
The sky above proves God's presence,
Flowers remind me of his essence.
All the rocks and the deepest sea,
Shows how great God is to me.



Today, as I reflect on the ways that God has shown his care, love, forgiveness, and grace to me, I am overwhelmed to know that He has welcomed me as a beloved daughter in His family. He does not condemn me or hold me guilty, but "he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant," and brought provision and wholeness. He is my almighty Father who is ultimately worthy to be praised.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The Jewett Cooks: Sausage & Sweet Potato Stew

On a cold winter evening, what could be better than a savory kick of heat and sweet. We have made this recipe twice and it is one for the cookbook. The ingredients are a delicious and filling combination, and even great the next day! 



Italian Sausage and Sweet Potato Stew


1 cup hot Italian sausage, diced
½ cup sweet potatoes, peeled and diced
¼ cup wild rice
¼ cup carrot, diced
¼ cup onions, diced
¼ cup celery, diced
1 ½ g chicken stock
tt salt
tt pepper
oil

Directions:

In a large pot heat oil. When the oil is hot add the sausage to the pot and allow it to cook until the outside has seared. Add stock, carrots, onions, celery, sweet potatoes, rice and bring to a boil.

Cook for 25 minutes or until vegetables and rice are thoroughly cooked. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with cornbread and friends.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Haynes Black Bean Soup Recipe






This recipe is a classic. One night a few years ago I was visiting with some awesome friends and they made it for dinner. I was blown away and of course, got the recipe. It is both cheap and delicious, and can basically feed an army, as I am proving tonight as I make it for the Jewett family.

Enjoy:

Black Bean Soup


Ingredients:
3 Tbsp olive oil
½ c. chopped onion
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp. ground cumin
¾ c. chopped celery
¾ c. chopped carrot
4 c. chicken or vegetable stock
3 (15.5 oz. each) cans black beans, drained and rinsed
juice from 1 lime
1 T. tomato paste

In large stockpot heat oil, onion, and garlic.  Cook until tender.  Stir in cumin and cook 1 minute.  Add celery, carrots, stock, and beans.  Heat to boiling.  Cook on low, covered for 15-20 minutes.  Stir in lime juice and tomato paste.  To thicken, puree beans and return to pot. (I used a potato masher and just mashed the beans in the soup while still in the stockpot).

Variations on how you can enjoy this dish:

  • with cheese and sour cream on top
  • with smooth guacamole, sour cream, and cheese mixed in
  • over a bed of rice
  • next to or mixed with seasoned diced tomatoes 
  • add diced tomatoes and create a dip for tortilla chips   
  • add chick peas for a more robust taste
  • all of the above? haha 


Note: At first I had no idea what Cumin was, and didnt even have any. But I found it at my local market and as soon as I smelled it I knew exactly what it was! I recommend buying this spice for future dishes. Its very popular in many ethnic cuisines and makes beans, rice, and meat stand out. Dont be afraid of picking some up!

I already had all of the ingredients, but per serving I would say about $1.50. 

Enjoy! 

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Yours, Mine, and Ours


"Colleen North: Larry says he'll never speak to me again unless I grow up. He says that I'm being ridiculous and I don't love him, but I do love him. Am I being ridiculous?

Frank Beardsley: You're not being ridiculous. 
Frank Beardsley: I've got a message for Larry. You tell him this is what it's all about. This is the real happening. If you want to know what love really is, take a look around you.

Helen North: What are you two talking about?


Frank Beardsley: Take a good look at your mother. (mother is about to give birth to her 9th child.)


Helen North: Not now!


Frank Beardsley: Yes, now.

Frank Beardsley: It's giving life that counts. Until you're ready for it, all the rest is just a big fraud. All the crazy haircuts in the world won't keep it turning. Life isn't a love in, it's the dishes and the orthodontist and the shoe repairman and... ground round instead of roast beef. And I'll tell you something else: it isn't going to a bed with a man that proves you're in love with him; it's getting up in the morning and facing the drab, miserable, wonderful everyday world with him that counts."



From the 1968 version of "Yours, Mine, and Ours," with Lucille Ball. I just thought this was a helpful little quote :)