Holidays
Grandparent's Day
11/14/08 12:37 PM Filed in: Indiscriminate
I know, Grandparent's
Day is the first Sunday after Labor Day, which would
be back in September or something. But here at
Cedarville, Grandparent's Day is today! It's true!
Today is the day we celebrate our grandparents,
though I celebrate mine every day of the year :).
Today we had Grandparent's Chapel where we recognized all the grandparents present; we even showed a video of students all over campus talking about why they loved their grandparents. I tried finding the video, but it isn't on our Student Government's website and I can't find it on YouTube, so I guess I'll just have to describe it, if at all possible.
Well, Liz was walking around with the camera and microphone on Monday, and she found me. I'm always more than willing to gloat about my grandparents, so I said a few words about why I love mine. Unfortunately, they cut out my comment about how my Grandparents Laird have been married for over fifty years, which I think is amazingly awesome, but that's alright.
So, why do I love my grandparents? Well, first and foremost, it's they're examples to all of us children as to what a relationship with Christ should look like. Not only that, another encouraging thing is how evident it is that they're interested in their grandchildren's lives (that's me)! On the video, Grandpa, I commented on how you're always technologically savvy and how you even have an iPhone, which you frighteningly use to text me and others while driving. (Sorry, everyone laughed ... You really shouldn't text and drive, you know. There are laws.)
My Grandpa Laird is a great guy with a sense of humor similar to my own, so we get along great for that reason. I like to think he’s a genius. He has been successful in life and always knows the answers to my questions when I call him to ask him things, usually relating to politics or government. We exchange knowledge in that way; I give him computer help and he gives me political help. If he doesn’t know the answer, he’ll find it for me. I said it above, but I’ll say it specifically, my Grandpa Laird loves the Lord with everything in him. He and my Grandma pray together regularly, and he loves to share Christ with people. For a few years he was a pastor, though I wasn’t alive at the time, so I don’t really remember it. I love talking about religious things with him as well as politics. (Just ask him about Christmas … It’s fun *wink*). In general, he’s just a fun guy to converse with, no matter what the subject matter.
My Grandma Laird loves to take us shopping. She loves to spoil us (but in a good way). Whenever we're going to be visiting my grandma on my dad's side, we'll always receive a call the week before asking what sorts of sugary cereals we want to eat while we're there. (Mom never would buy us Lucky Charms.) Ice cream? She'll get it. Pizza? We'll order it. My grandparent's house was the only place I ever really watched cable TV because we didn't have it. We had a TV, but it only had local channels, and I rarely ever even watched them. So when we visited my grandparents, we would always wake up early and watch the morning cartoons. Grandma Laird is a wonderful woman who loves the Lord just like her husband, and not only does she share God’s love with people whenever she can get the chance, she’s encouraging to us grandchildren as well to persevere through trials and maintain a right relationship with God.
My mom’s mom, Grandma Richardson, is the cutest little grandma ever. I got a card in the mail from her the other day, and she went on to describe the cows, the chickens, what my mom was doing, and how my family was, since I wasn't there to see them. She gives splendid hugs, and caring for others is her specialty. Grandma loves God and she loves everyone around her, and she’s a special one with which no one else can compare. She knows all of her grandchildren and great grand children, which is saying quite a bit because she has a lot. When I say she knows them, I mean she knows great details about each of them. She makes it a point to keep up with her family’s lives, and that’s a true blessing.
My Grandpa Richardson, who went to be with Jesus a few years ago, had the biggest heart for God I think I've ever seen in anyone. In his younger years, he was a Baptist pastor (I guess I’m surrounded by them), and he has always served the Lord with all his strength, even when his strength was waning. My favorite thing to do with him was to sit on the couch next to his chair, pick up the Bible, open it to a random location and read a random passage. Then I would ask him the reference. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, even when it took him a few minutes to respond, but if he couldn't nail it down to the exact reference, he could at least tell you the book and probably even the chapter. Additionally, he was able to give you the context of the verse and why it was significant. (Those were free, you didn't even have to ask him and he just would tell you that.) He was truly an amazing man.
All of my grandparents are amazing. They all care about us and love us, and they're all interested in our lives. Let's face it, without my grandparents, I wouldn't be where I am today, and neither would my parents. You're all amazing people who have poured your lives into not only each other and others but also into your grandchildren, and you've made a huge difference in my life. I love you all very much!
Today we had Grandparent's Chapel where we recognized all the grandparents present; we even showed a video of students all over campus talking about why they loved their grandparents. I tried finding the video, but it isn't on our Student Government's website and I can't find it on YouTube, so I guess I'll just have to describe it, if at all possible.
Well, Liz was walking around with the camera and microphone on Monday, and she found me. I'm always more than willing to gloat about my grandparents, so I said a few words about why I love mine. Unfortunately, they cut out my comment about how my Grandparents Laird have been married for over fifty years, which I think is amazingly awesome, but that's alright.
So, why do I love my grandparents? Well, first and foremost, it's they're examples to all of us children as to what a relationship with Christ should look like. Not only that, another encouraging thing is how evident it is that they're interested in their grandchildren's lives (that's me)! On the video, Grandpa, I commented on how you're always technologically savvy and how you even have an iPhone, which you frighteningly use to text me and others while driving. (Sorry, everyone laughed ... You really shouldn't text and drive, you know. There are laws.)
My Grandpa Laird is a great guy with a sense of humor similar to my own, so we get along great for that reason. I like to think he’s a genius. He has been successful in life and always knows the answers to my questions when I call him to ask him things, usually relating to politics or government. We exchange knowledge in that way; I give him computer help and he gives me political help. If he doesn’t know the answer, he’ll find it for me. I said it above, but I’ll say it specifically, my Grandpa Laird loves the Lord with everything in him. He and my Grandma pray together regularly, and he loves to share Christ with people. For a few years he was a pastor, though I wasn’t alive at the time, so I don’t really remember it. I love talking about religious things with him as well as politics. (Just ask him about Christmas … It’s fun *wink*). In general, he’s just a fun guy to converse with, no matter what the subject matter.
My Grandma Laird loves to take us shopping. She loves to spoil us (but in a good way). Whenever we're going to be visiting my grandma on my dad's side, we'll always receive a call the week before asking what sorts of sugary cereals we want to eat while we're there. (Mom never would buy us Lucky Charms.) Ice cream? She'll get it. Pizza? We'll order it. My grandparent's house was the only place I ever really watched cable TV because we didn't have it. We had a TV, but it only had local channels, and I rarely ever even watched them. So when we visited my grandparents, we would always wake up early and watch the morning cartoons. Grandma Laird is a wonderful woman who loves the Lord just like her husband, and not only does she share God’s love with people whenever she can get the chance, she’s encouraging to us grandchildren as well to persevere through trials and maintain a right relationship with God.
My mom’s mom, Grandma Richardson, is the cutest little grandma ever. I got a card in the mail from her the other day, and she went on to describe the cows, the chickens, what my mom was doing, and how my family was, since I wasn't there to see them. She gives splendid hugs, and caring for others is her specialty. Grandma loves God and she loves everyone around her, and she’s a special one with which no one else can compare. She knows all of her grandchildren and great grand children, which is saying quite a bit because she has a lot. When I say she knows them, I mean she knows great details about each of them. She makes it a point to keep up with her family’s lives, and that’s a true blessing.
My Grandpa Richardson, who went to be with Jesus a few years ago, had the biggest heart for God I think I've ever seen in anyone. In his younger years, he was a Baptist pastor (I guess I’m surrounded by them), and he has always served the Lord with all his strength, even when his strength was waning. My favorite thing to do with him was to sit on the couch next to his chair, pick up the Bible, open it to a random location and read a random passage. Then I would ask him the reference. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, even when it took him a few minutes to respond, but if he couldn't nail it down to the exact reference, he could at least tell you the book and probably even the chapter. Additionally, he was able to give you the context of the verse and why it was significant. (Those were free, you didn't even have to ask him and he just would tell you that.) He was truly an amazing man.
All of my grandparents are amazing. They all care about us and love us, and they're all interested in our lives. Let's face it, without my grandparents, I wouldn't be where I am today, and neither would my parents. You're all amazing people who have poured your lives into not only each other and others but also into your grandchildren, and you've made a huge difference in my life. I love you all very much!
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Cotton Balls and Cramps
I was never really good
at Chemistry. Better at it than at Biology, but still
not exceptional. Granted, I earned an A when I took
Chemistry in college, but this was from Kirkwood,
which doesn’t have the highest academic prestige, so
the A was easily achieved without completely
understanding the material ... The same goes for
Biology, which I also took there and received a B+.
That being said, I may not have the fullest
understanding of acids and bases and things breaking
down. (In fact, if the previous sentence really makes
no sense, that’s probably why ... I was just trying
to throw the words out to sound intelligent.)
I’m also the type of person that, if you tell me to do something (you don’t even have to dare me, really) and it’s not against my morals and doesn’t seem to have the potential to cause a fatality, I’ll probably do it. I’m always up for checking off experiences from my “Things To Do Before I Die” list. I guess that’s why I have black nails right now ...
Last night, we celebrated the Finnish holiday of Pyhäinpäivä (PUH-HAH-IN-PIE-VAH). The American equivalent would be All Saints’ Day, but while All Saints’ Day is always on November 1st, Pyhäinpäivä is on the first Saturday between October 31st and November 6th. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Last night wasn’t Saturday. That is very perceptive of you. We just realized this morning that Griffin actually gave us the wrong day to celebrated the beloved holiday of our ancestors, but we will try to forgive him. But since we didn’t get to celebrate Pyhäinpäivä last Saturday, we decided to celebrate it last night, the 6th, by watching The Office and performing several Finnish traditions with a large group of people.
It was a fantastic turnout. We had seventeen people show up to a celebration that they had never even heard of. During the commercial breaks of The Office, we muted the volume and partook together in the Finnish festivities we had planned just an hour before the party started. Such festivities include, but are not limited to ...
I offered Ryan a rolly-polly baby Panda for Christmas, Shannon performed the interpretive dance, we sang Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in memory of King Valdemar, and I happened to be the oldest male present. So I ate a cotton ball. Not just any cotton ball, mind you, but probably the largest one in the bag; it was dark and I just reached in and grabbed one, but it happened to be enormous. After mustering up all my gumption, I stuck the cotton ball in my mouth and started salivating to get it wet enough to slide down my throat. It took me quite a while, but finally I tried swallowing. It got stuck half way. I grabbed the nearest cup of Mountain Dew and forced the cotton ball the remainder of the way into my stomach. There was much rejoicing, and I took my seat again as The Office came back on.
Had I paid closer attention in my aforementioned Community College classes, I might have known that the acids in your stomach can’t actually break down cotton for some reason (which leaves me thoroughly unimpressed with my own stomach), and I may have been more wary of eating a cotton ball. As it was, I simply thought it would digest and there would be no problems.
This morning I woke up with horrendous cramps (on top of an already very upset stomach) and a terrible headache. I tried sitting up in bed, but that seemed to hurt too much, so I just laid there for a very long time, eventually skipping my first class.
So let this be a lesson to all of you! I know Buddy eats cotton balls in Elf, and it looks like fun and that he doesn’t suffer any consequences from his actions, but trust me ... He does! Your stomach, intestines, and basically any part of your digestive tract don’t get along well with cotton balls.
See what you missed out on last night, Jon McGill?
I’m also the type of person that, if you tell me to do something (you don’t even have to dare me, really) and it’s not against my morals and doesn’t seem to have the potential to cause a fatality, I’ll probably do it. I’m always up for checking off experiences from my “Things To Do Before I Die” list. I guess that’s why I have black nails right now ...
Last night, we celebrated the Finnish holiday of Pyhäinpäivä (PUH-HAH-IN-PIE-VAH). The American equivalent would be All Saints’ Day, but while All Saints’ Day is always on November 1st, Pyhäinpäivä is on the first Saturday between October 31st and November 6th. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Last night wasn’t Saturday. That is very perceptive of you. We just realized this morning that Griffin actually gave us the wrong day to celebrated the beloved holiday of our ancestors, but we will try to forgive him. But since we didn’t get to celebrate Pyhäinpäivä last Saturday, we decided to celebrate it last night, the 6th, by watching The Office and performing several Finnish traditions with a large group of people.
It was a fantastic turnout. We had seventeen people show up to a celebration that they had never even heard of. During the commercial breaks of The Office, we muted the volume and partook together in the Finnish festivities we had planned just an hour before the party started. Such festivities include, but are not limited to ...
- As is custom, the host must advise all invited guests to bring their own eggs. At the celebration of Pyhäinpäivä, all guests must laugh at anyone who actually brings their own eggs. This ceremony is in commemoration King Albert’s (of Mecklenburg) practice of sending out edicts via carrier chicken.
- The oldest male must eat a cotton ball in memory of our ancestors that, in the Finnish blight of 1728, had to ingest their bedding and pillows to survive.
- All guests must pass the flaming grease cup. This symbolizes the flame of unity and also reminds us of an old Finnish legend in which a crew of sailors were caught at sea during a long December. The crew was forced to burn their stores of bacon and butter for warmth to survive and was able to outlast the winter. The cup of grease must be passed counterclockwise, each person saying to the person to their right what they would give them for Christmas, if they could give them anything.
- One volunteer, or victim chosen at random if no one should volunteer, must perform the traditional Finnish dance to keep the spirits at bay for the coming year. Since the traditional Finnish dance has long since been forgotten, the volunteer must improvise interpretively. The person must volunteer without knowing what they are agreeing to do, thus symbolizing the stark bravery of Finnish dancers.
- A song must be sung to commemorate the coronation of King Valdemar of the house of Bjelbo. The original melody has long since been forgotten, so any song that is well known, radio-worthy, and at least nine years old may be sung. And, in light of King Valdemar’s decree regarding the Great Minstrel Hunt of 1264, the song must be sung a capella by all guests present.
- There was a chicken virus that went around in Finland in 1355. At that time, whenever someone ate anything made out of eggs, they weren’t sure if the egg had been infected or not. The chance taken in eating things made with eggs is represented by a game of chance referred to as “Never Have I Ever” or, in Finnish, “Koskaan Olen Koskaan.” All guests must form a circle, placing an egg on the group in front of them. One person says something that they have never done, and anyone in the circle who has done that thing must spin their egg. If the egg stops spinning while it is pointing at the person who spun it, they are officially out of the game. The last person remaining collects all the eggs at the end of the game.
- The Finnish are known especially for two things: Their love of unity and friendship, and their exception hip-grabbing ability. To celebrate, all members present must participate in an impromptu conga line from the party’s locale to the nearest seller of overpriced goods, through their place of business, and back to the party.
I offered Ryan a rolly-polly baby Panda for Christmas, Shannon performed the interpretive dance, we sang Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in memory of King Valdemar, and I happened to be the oldest male present. So I ate a cotton ball. Not just any cotton ball, mind you, but probably the largest one in the bag; it was dark and I just reached in and grabbed one, but it happened to be enormous. After mustering up all my gumption, I stuck the cotton ball in my mouth and started salivating to get it wet enough to slide down my throat. It took me quite a while, but finally I tried swallowing. It got stuck half way. I grabbed the nearest cup of Mountain Dew and forced the cotton ball the remainder of the way into my stomach. There was much rejoicing, and I took my seat again as The Office came back on.
Had I paid closer attention in my aforementioned Community College classes, I might have known that the acids in your stomach can’t actually break down cotton for some reason (which leaves me thoroughly unimpressed with my own stomach), and I may have been more wary of eating a cotton ball. As it was, I simply thought it would digest and there would be no problems.
This morning I woke up with horrendous cramps (on top of an already very upset stomach) and a terrible headache. I tried sitting up in bed, but that seemed to hurt too much, so I just laid there for a very long time, eventually skipping my first class.
So let this be a lesson to all of you! I know Buddy eats cotton balls in Elf, and it looks like fun and that he doesn’t suffer any consequences from his actions, but trust me ... He does! Your stomach, intestines, and basically any part of your digestive tract don’t get along well with cotton balls.
See what you missed out on last night, Jon McGill?