As summer continues on its merciless plunder of hours, all the while seeming to attract my friends' angry fists to the skies for heat's sake, a few tasks have delivered themselves to the top of my priorities.

One of those tasks was walking with my friends to a 7-11, and taking the responsibility to convince them that as vengeful as their hearts are to the heat, winter would not in reality be as sweet as it sounds. I enjoy too much the ability to walk outside barefoot with nary a layer. We collectively proceeded to indulge in slurpee samples and final purchases:

Another activity was an appropriately long Saturday morning at the coffee shop with Ashley. I left inspired to make homemade frappés, which Jake and I sipped while dancing to Iron & Wine.

An unseasonable priority was preparing my hands-down, breath-takingly favorite macaroni and cheese over a hot stove, purely because I'd craved it for weeks. Do yourself the favor: Melt 3 tablespoons of butter, whisk in 3 tablespoons of flour, whisk in 1 cup of milk and 0.5 cups of alfredo sauce, add 3 cups of shredded cheddar on top of it all and allow to melt, whisk in 1 tablespoon of cayenne pepper and 1 tablespoon of nutmeg, combine sauce with 1 pound cooked whole grain noodles. Savor.

Other ways to handle the heat have included a jaunt to the air-conditioned movie theater for cheap matinees, OR exchanging songs with international students during a brilliant lightning storm, OR spending six hours in bed (where I may or may not have eaten said macaroni and cheese) just reading The Virgin Suicides in front of our box fan.

And now, a photo of my darling by which to remember this season in our life:

"Perhaps the rough distinction is this: The voice of the subconscious argues with you, tries to convince you; but the inner voice of God does not argue, does not try to convince you. It just speaks and it is self-authenticating. It has the feel of the voice of God within it."

- E. Stanley Jones

I recently read a book by Dallas Willard about how to hear God. It hardly answered any of my questions, rather it pointed me to even better questions. This is a very good thing.

These are some of our friend Karen's pictures. One of the best things we did on our camping trip this weekend was sing together around the fire. In particular, we loved this song. We sang it over and over, four-part harmony. Eventually, a strange beam of light fell upon us and we heard, "Do you guys take requests?" Turned out our neighbors heard us and thought to themselves "I don't think that's a radio," so they followed the music ... whether or not that's a compliment, we enjoyed meeting them! They were also from Chicago--we people attract each other!

The four of us on this trip are in the midst of life transitions.

While I've learned recently just how much of an escapists I am (in a potentially unhealthy way) I did eventually find a way to relax and be at peace.

Doing back-flips in the lake, I felt 8-years-old again, and safe. God is good.

We all agreed that the wilderness fed our souls and kept us in the moment. In fact, we're getting together to sing tonight, again! And come September, we're going to hike ourselves 10 miles into the woods, again!

In other news ... mmm, pancakes.

I am a convert.

I am ready to share.

I officially love the Old Testament.

Yes.

That fated half of our holy book,

which used to haunt me with it's obscurity.

Something called me to read

just a little more. And I did.

I love that it is full of God speaking,

interceding in history.

(I have so much to learn from the

people who heard God and responded.)

I love reading our history as a people.

What really strikes me is that they, as

opposed to the folks in the New Testament,

really had no idea what a huge part they

were playing in God's plan for the world.

Their behavior is so raw and human.

I no longer see a despairing, plural divine

character between God in the New and Old.

I surely don't understand a lot, but with

solid study tools, and a community of

believers, I have full faith that there is much

more to be found in this old story.

Much.

I've seen a bit and it is rich.

I've been hiking.

And singing.

And dirty.

I'm slowly reintegrating into society.

watch the vessel. it pushes deeper and across it's thick, gritty landing. the vessel trudges, thrusts long 'til the path gives way. even as it kisses the fence to deliverance, resistance lightly splashes, lashes its face.

"you'll be free out here," it says, "but not without hardship."

still the vessel lurches, leans into the possibilities and the hope of meeting where it's meant to be.

"i'll do it," the vessel replies, "i'll wrestle with you under the Law that governs us both. and together, i'll float."

NYC- The Last Day. It's been a real trip to follow these pictures, eh?

Waking up after our night with Keith and his buddies was a little brutal. (Although they galavanted around the city from 11 pm - 7 am, so I have no room to speak.) We were out the door by 9:30 anyway, and on our way to the famed Babycakes, producers of healthy treats. I had an agave-sweetened pumpkin loaf that somehow filled me up all day long.

We spent about an hour relaxing in Washington Square Park. Jake and I love reading aloud to each other, this time we read David Sedaris. The lawn sprinklers came on for second, causing flocks of business-clad men and women to escape, Whole Foods lunch bag in hand.

We walked over to 7th Ave and visited Syd at his office. Walked to the West Village in search of Taim "the best falafel," for lunch. It was the best falafel. We walked all around the village, had an iced mocha at Chocolate Bar. We walked back up to both the Highline and Chelsea Market, since Jake hadn't been. We walked a lot for being as tired as we were.

Spent our last night babysitting Lyla and Nigel. Jake read to Lyla for probably two hours, please note how all of her "friends" are sitting upright, facing out, to hear the stories. We brushed our teeth and washed our faces like secret spies, so as not to wake Nigel.

Enjoyed the balcony view on our last night and the next morning, kissed New York good bye:

NYC- Day 7

Our second-t0-last day. We left our beloved hotel, which meant millions more stairs with luggage. However, we knew where we were going this time, and were blessed to stay with Syd and Amy (and darling Lyla and Nigel.) Had an early lunch at La Esquina with our friend Parker--keep your eye out for him! He and his lady are going to make a big splash in the fashion industry with their line Furio. We had free tickets to Liberty & Ellis islands. I love water, so I was mostly just excited for the boat ride! Later, we enjoyed the best tiramissu ever at Village Tart. And even later we went to Williamsburg in Brooklyn. And really late, our amigo Keith drove into town to visit us with his friends. He took that last picture--probably my favorite picture in the world.

NYC - Day 6, aka Lotso Pics Day, aka Macaron Day

On day six, Jake attended a national conference about volunteering and community development while I played with our cutie friend Jess, who was previously spotted in Times Square.

But first I wandered alone around Columbus Circle.

Then, on his lunch break ... first we took Jake to the walk-in clinic because he caught an eye infection! Then we had lunch at a nifty place called Switch, somewhere just outside of the West Village. I developed a certain adoration for their lime-sauced soy beans.

While walking with Jess, I was obsessed with fire escape ladders. I'll spare you the other 20 pictures and just share this one. Jess took me to the rockin Highline! She also treated me to gelato because she spoils me.

Jess and I went to the Chelsea Market. I loved it! Books and fine foodie treats. I bought macarons from one of the bakeries in the market, thinking I'd treat Jess back and have my first taste of the popular dessert in one fell swoop. The cookies weren't bad ... but Jess kindly insisted we seek out a slightly finer macaron from a bakery in the Time Warner building.

Upon tasting a Bouchon macarron, I realized Jess was just being nice and mild earlier. She really should have called me a sluggard for settling for any cookie so far below the Bouchon experience. Jake joined us for the relishing of the real macarons. We three perched on a cracked rock in Central Park and ate ourselves into sugary oblivion.

Shortly after, Jess had to leave us. Jake and I spent the rest of the evening in the West Village and layer getting lost between Washington Square park and NYU. It was a very peaceful, 3 hour walk. We had our last meal at a cafe called Recess and it was delish.

NYC - Day 5