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I’m guest posting today over at Brett Harrison’s blog.  He’s got a cool story, so even if two blog posts by me in one day is more than you can handle, follow my link at the bottom of the page (it will be there as soon as I have it) and at least read about him and his wife and their current adventures.  I begged him to let me post there, and he said I could as long as it was about missionaries, so I decided to ask if missionaries these days have to leave their keyboards.  Head on over and join in the discussion.

In the mean time, here’s my post for the day.

I emailed back and forth this week with a guy I’ve met in blogworld.  His name is Josiah Bancroft, and he’s a poet.  It’s kind of cool, this whole thing of meeting people that ten years ago I may never have met.

Anyway in our email exchange he brought up the fact that my family and I have forsaken television for a year, and then he made a comment that got my attention:

“As an aside, I quit watching TV years ago, though there have been lapses. I found that the problem wasn’t the programming itself, but the thoughtlessness that resulted from sitting in front of the endless stream of shows and ads. That constant state of distraction is both depressing and addictive, I think…I find that watching (online or through Netflix) fewer shows less often and without commercials actually inspires me to work and write.”

Are we addicted to distraction? I know I am. I now use distraction as a motivational tool:

“Work for 15 more minutes and then you can get on Twitter.”

“Write three more pages and then you can check Facebook.”

“Write your blog post and then you can check email.”

When I found out the Wifi was not working in the cafe I had settled into for the day, I got out of there faster than Superman exiting a kryptonite factory. Why? I don’t need Wifi or the winternets to do 90% of my work, but the thought of going stretches of time without distraction freaked me out.

What’s your take on distraction as addiction?

Now, for my guest post over at Brett’s site, click HERE

I’m guest posting at The House Studio today.  As soon as I have the link I’ll put it at the bottom of this page.  Head on over and take a look – they’re a publishing house doing things in a new way, and the stuff they’ve come out with is challenging and insightful.  Don’t let the fact that they’ve allowed me to guest post on their blog lower your expectations of what they have to offer . . . I’ve never actually met any of them in person, but they seem like a fun group.  I’d especially like to attend one of their cyst-smashing parties.

Anyway, here’s today’s post.

Contentment is one of those words that can convey two, almost opposite connotations.

Some folks view contentment as the ultimate state of being.  If you’re content then you’ve decided to take what you’ve been given and be happy with it. 

Others view contentment as the enemy.  To them, being content is like giving in.  Giving up.  Nothing worth accomplishing, they argue, has ever been done by someone who is content with how things are.

I started thinking about contentment after reading Andi’s blog post the other day.  The way she talked about contentment reminded me more of perseverance.  I thought about how difficult it is to remain content with a piece of writing I’ve started, for example, how much easier it is to push it aside and start something new.

I think contentment as perseverance is very underrated these days.  We all want the newest thing, the iPad, the iPhone237, the next size up in televisions and houses and the car that talks (that’s my shout out for the year to Michael Knight). But what if we took a period of time, say a month, or a week, or even a day, and waited?

What if we were content?  What if we persevered in the task at hand?

Maybe the contentment naysayers would still argue that, unless we move on to the next thing, it will never be discovered.  But what about this thing?  This thing in the here and now?

What’s your take on contentment?

To check out my guest post at The House Studio on circumcision, all-you-can-eat buffets, and unnecessary burdens, click HERE.

This is an ongoing series of posts in which I share things my 7 year old son Cade says that makes me chuckle. Or cringe with embarrassment.  It really just depends on the day.

The scene: Maile is driving the minivan from one random place to another.

The people: Maile at the wheel, Sam and Abra in the middle seat, Cade and Lucy in the back seat.

The back story: Cade and Lucy are pretending they each have a super hero.  They begin one-upping each other in regards to the powers that each of their superheros has:

Lucy: My superhero can fly! (said with a smug smile on her face; after all, what could be better than flying?)

Cade (obviously flustered): Well . . . my superhero has the power of Home Depot!

Silence.  Neither one knows what to do with this.  It’s as if the power of Home Depot can silence even the noisiest of children.

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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT #1: So far, three of the speakers for this fall’s writer’s conference have been confirmed – check them out HERE.

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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS #2, #3 and #4: I’m still lining up guest posts for the next couple of weeks so let me know if I can come by and enrage entertain your readership.

Tomorrow I’ll be guest posting over at The House Studio about circumcision, all-you-can-eat buffets and unnecessary burdens (among other things).

On Friday I’ll be at Brett Harrison‘s blog asking if we can be missionaries without leaving our keyboards.

I’ll be posting links to these each day, once they’re up, so stay tuned and join in the discussion.

A few weeks ago I tried to write a Top Ten regarding Summer. You’d think that with barbeques and July 4th parties, it would be easy.

It wasn’t.

If you’d like to supplement my Summer top 10, feel free.  In the mean time today’s list is of a different sort: the reality is, it’s June.  The anti-reality is, it is December. And I love December.

The top ten things I love about December are:

1) The cold. I love the cold.

2) Coats and sweaters and jeans and wool socks and scarves and gloves.

3) Snow.

4) Christmas afternoon: helping Lucy and Abra put their toys together, working on Cade’s latest Lego acquisition, watching Sammy crawl like mad through the wrapping paper.

5) Early nights spent by roaring fires.

6) Snow.

7) Christmas lights (not my own, but seeing other people’s).

8) New Year’s Eve – even though I’m usually asleep by 10pm, I still like all the excitement.

9) Christmas music

10) Those red and green Captain Crunch and the cranberry ginger ale they only sell during Christmas time

So, what do you think? Am I a summer humbug? Or are you a winter-ite like me basking in anti-reality?

Today’s guest post is written by my wife, Maile. She just started a blog over at http://mailesmucker.blogspot.com . I love to see her finally writing. I know that some of you writers out there are moms, and it’s so hard to find the time to get the words out…don’t give up.  Anyway, the following is the first little bit of her post today, and if you want to read the rest and get her first Manic Monday recipe, click over to her site.

I love food and I love cooking. So I decided to start this blog to legitimize my hours of flipping through cookbooks and magazine, scouring for recipes, and cooking in the kitchen, ignoring the constant cries and requests of my four children.  So please join me for the first of what I hope will be many Manic Mondays for Mai time in the Kitchen.

If you are a stay-at-home mom like me, Mondays usually mean that laundry is at a critical level (your husband has no clean undies and the kids are sweating in their Christmas polar bear pj’s in the dead of summer), the refrigerator is barren (perhaps some wilted lettuce and pickles remain), and the alleviation of  the mess around your house will require no less than a forklift and possibly, if you’re in a really bad mood, a blow torch.  At this point, the inhabitants of your home are lucky if they even get fed on a Monday night, and if they do, it’s probably a bowl of gruel.  But here’s an alternative:  on Mondays, while you’re frazzled and short-tempered, I will have a quick little dinner recipe, tasty yet simple, packaged right here, waiting to be used by you.

To keep reading, click HERE

I – Thou shalt not place your arm over the center arm rest and into your neighbor’s side – it’s just not right

II – Thou shalt brush your teeth and, in hot weather, consider wearing deoderant

III – Thou shalt not read your newspaper in a completely open position, especially from the middle seat

IV – Thou shalt understand that closed eyes indicates your neighbor has a desire to sleep, even if this means he might miss out on a thimble-sized amount of ginger ale or a package of cardboard pretzels.  Repeat – thou shalt not wake him for the stale pretzels.

V – Airlines shalt not charge extra for use of the bathroom. Or for one lonely checked bag. Or for the seat.

VI – Flight attendants, while smiling and greeting every single person that enters the plane and acting all flight-attendanty, shall not also be texting.  This takes the fakeness to a dangerous level.

VII – Thou shalt not build any more airports as spread out as Atlanta or as chaotic as Chicago or as mean as Philly (I know the Stanley Cup loss was only hours removed, but there’s no point in shouting at someone just because they didn’t see your golf cart full of elderly people coming)

VIII – Pilots shalt not stand at their little door and grace everyone with a cheesy smile if, during their most recent landing, they slammed the plane into the runway so hard everyone’s teeth fell out

Sarcasm aside, a huge thanks to three folks who made the plane ride interesting: Anna for sharing the story of her Vietnamese family’s journey to the US and how she grew up in a trailer with her two parents and 10 brothers and sisters; thanks to the very nice lady from Chicago for her encouragement in pursuing a career in writing; thanks to the traveling-harvester lady from Wichita (I’m so sorry I forget your name already) for educating me about a profession I had never heard of and also for the long emergent/traditional church discussion. Each of you obviously read the eight commandments before I did – I didn’t exactly have commandment II covered yesterday.

And now, sarcasm back in the forefront, a huge thanks…HUGE thanks…to the rather large gentleman who insisted on falling asleep with his arm on my side of the armrest, forcing me to curl up in the fetal position, plastered against the wall of the plain, at 6am on Wednesday morning.

There’s an extra tablet – what commandments did I miss?