Wishin' and Hopin' Friday Five: Now with Disclaimers!

**Disclaimer: It is mating season for all God's creatures. Even for those young lovelies such as myself whose springs remain flingless, one does tend to get a bit of spring fever. That being said, please note that whatever crazy romantic, nostalgic and possibly scandalous stuff entailed in the following blog is strictly the result of hormones and three consecutive weeks of being cooped-up inside my apartment from the rain**

1. Think back to the time you left High School, what were your hopes visions and dreams for your life/ for the world?

My high school sweetheart and I would be blissfully married in a little 19th century farmhouse outside Charlottesville, Virginia. Each Spring as soon as the fawns were born in the wild woods beyond our garden gate we'd get out the ladders and buckets, I'd tie my hair back in a red and white kerchief and he'd don his oldest t-shirt --doubtless some grey and threadbare number from our alma-mater and current employer the University of Virginia-- and we'd scrub the winter sleep off the old house, tending to the gutters (mind the wrens nests!) and coating each wall with white wash, rubbing our fingers over the pockmarked surface, blemished to perfection by time and the scars of civil war muskets.

We would drink lemony cold Russian tea with mint from the garden and work well into the afternoon. Then, leaving a trail of dirty garden gloves and crumpled socks, we'd head to the shower. He'd let me go first --I always take longer-- then, scrubbed clean in new cotton shirts, we'd head out to the nearby mountains with a horse blanket and tinny old radio. I'd tell him the stories of the constellations and he'd make silly jokes. Finally, we'd fall into a comfortable silence, count the fireflies and just wait for the shooting stars.


2. Have those hopes visions and dreams changed a lot, or are some of them still alive and kicking? (share one if you can)

That still sounds good to me right now. Maybe not the high school sweet heart --although he was the singularly kindest man I've had the good fortune to kiss with tongues-- but everything else sounds about perfect. Even the Virginia part.

It's strange. I love Texas. I would die for Texas just as my ancestors did. It would be an honor. I will never forget that the blood that coursed through Ben Milam's veins as he led his men to victory in the legendary Siege of Bexar is the same that pumps through mine. Yet I am feeling called away. Called "back" to Virginia, or maybe even Britain.

Then reality sets in and I know I'm bound to my diocese. I've got to dance with the one who brung me, and that means three years in seminary and possibly another three years in the diocese. That makes me feel a little claustrophobic. Of course I'm fortunate enough to be in the financial situation where I can afford to go to seminary anywhere in the world and after all, it's not unheard of to do two years at Cambridge or Oxford and then finish with a year stateside.


3. Hebrews 11:1 " Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. " Comforting, challenging or frustrating?

Ah lahk mah scriptures lahk Ah lahk mah mey-uhn: challenging, comforting and strong. Oh, and able to open jam jars.

4. If resources were unlimited, and you had free reign to pursue a vision what would it be?

My gosh I don't know, I'm 27 years old! Don't fence me in! There are so many.

I want to run a small bakery on a British Costal town.
I want to be some parish's beloved but kicky vicar.
I want to spend my life documenting mystical experiences.
I want to do tequila shots off all the male characters of the television program
Friday Night Lights with special emphasis on the big dumb troubled-but-hot one even though in he's not even remotely my type.



5. Finally with summer upon us- and not to make this too heavy- share your dream holiday....where, when and who with...

Well the troubled-but-hot guy is still really working for me, so let's take that, toss him in my Cadillac, fill the trunk with Lone Star and clean underwear, drop the top and cruise Route 66 all the way to San Bernardino. Days on the road buying cheap sunglasses and stopping at all the roadside attractions and nights nursing lonestars in old mom 'n' pop motels. Paradise.


And now, because you know you love it, I present The Friday Hotness:

Taylor Kitsch as Tim Riggins, the aforementioned troubled-but-hot football player from Friday Night Lights. Because, you know, in Texas ALL high school fullbacks are 26-year old underwear models.