21 Columbia University

I have so many reasons to miss Columbia University. First, the university's law school is the reason we live in New York. Second, it's beautiful and old, and I like both of those things in duet. Third, its where Mr. Miller and I met.

More on the third point. Mr. Miller first saw me at a lawyers' conference in November 2005 as we stood in a circle with mutual friends. But we did not meet until three months later when I came to New York for a national law student conference at Columbia. We were officially introduced at a quaint restaurant down Amsterdam Avenue, but Mr. Miller really caught my attention later that night at a reception at Low Library (the building behind us at left). Mr. Miller approached me and asked, "So, I hear you're a religious pluralist?" ::contented sigh:: There's nothing like raising a girl's intellectual ire to win her heart.

A Gift from Mr. Miller

He's really out-done himself this time. In honor of my 27th birthday last week, Mr. Miller gave me a bound collection of the first year of posts and photographs from this blog!

Super Bowl

I'm sick. Very sick. Nasal passages draining, sneezes abounding, and a fever making me feel like I'm on illicit narcotics. (Not that I'd know!)

This illness has put a crimp in our Super Bowl watching plans. Bethany, who has embraced baseball and football as a way to show her love for me, was excited to finally go a Super Bowl party for more than just the food. I guess there's always next year (when my Seahawks will be playing in the game).

All of this has reminded me of my father. A decade ago, my father's birthday fell on the same day as the Super Bowl. He fell quite ill, which would have been bad enough. But then our septic tank backed up and our front yard smelled of sewage. He went outside in the cold and unearthed the tank, while the rest of us piled into the van and drove away to watch Elway beat Favre.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, "Thanks, Dad." Just as Bethany was moved to salute her mother, these two weeks of parenting have dramatically increased my appreciation for everything my father did for me. With that said, praise be to God that, at least this year, our toilets are working fine and Evangeline didn't go to the party without me.

Sundays

My favorite day of the week is Sunday. The alarm clock wakes us up at 8 AM. We both rush to get ready and leave the house by 8:20. We walk two miles to church. Mr. Miller practices with the worship team for a couple hours, before the service starts at 11. He plays bass, and recently has had the opportunity to sing as well. I, meanwhile, have a quiet time in the auditorium and join a small group of people from church for prayer at 10:15. [Amendment: in December, I started accidentally napping under my coat in the auditorium between our morning walk and the service so we decided it was better for me to just sleep at home and walk to church later by myself.]

After worshiping the Lord through song, being fed the Word, and catching up with our friends, we walk home. That conversation is the best of the week because we talk about the sermon!!! Without fail, much spiritual growth happens on that walk. Once we get home, we eat a big lunch, turn the radio to some game, and take a nap. Eventually, we drag ourselves back into the world of the living to read books, listen to game(s), and talk.

I wonder how Evangeline's arrival will change our Sabbath routine...

Christmas Wrap-up

It appears I have a problem making timely holiday posts. Nonetheless, I still want to post a bit about our Christmas for the record and in the interest of my family, who are curious about such things.

Preparations :: While we did not have a tree this year, we did decorate the apartment a bit, burn scented candles, listen to Christmas music, and bake/consume tons of cookies (peanut butter blossoms, coconut macaroons, and gingersnaps to name a few).

Christmas Eve :: We ate chili (Keith's favorite recipe) and cornbread, carrying on my mom's tradition. Sadly, we did not plan ahead to attend a Christmas Eve service, which I hope to change in the future.

Christmas Day :: Again following my mom's lead, I served Pineapple Walnut Muffins, sausage balls, and coffee for breakfast. We actually ate it in bed while opening gifts. I suppose in the future we'll probably gather around a tree, but this was a romantic substitute, fitting for our first Christmas as a married couple. We were delighted by the gifts and notes showered upon us by our family. Even Evangeline, though still in utero, received some, including a fuzzy pink receiving blanket from Keziah, crocheted booties from Aunt Evie, a teddy bear from Aunt Annie, and a silver rattle from her Oma and Opa. [Note: my parents bought the rattle two years ago for my first baby before Mr. Miller was even in the picture. Talk about an act of faith!]



That afternoon, we strolled several miles through our neighborhood to work up an appetite while my husband, in response to a slew of questions, gave me a comprehensive history of the Republican Party of the 20th Century and the rise of the Evangelical Right. Fascinating stuff. After arriving home and to keep Mr. Miller's hunger at bay while I made the big meal, I served him hot stuffed mushrooms accompanied by a silky pinot noir by The Jibe. Then, we feasted on Herb Roasted Cornish Game Hens, Garlic Rosemary Mashed Potatoes, and broiled asparagus (see photo below). By some miracle, we both saved enough room for a slice of delectable Blackberry and Blueberry Pie smothered in vanilla bean ice cream.

Throughout the day and that evening, we were able to connect with my grandparents, my parents and Ev, and the Haupts over the phone as well as use our new webcam (thanks Dennis and Chris!) to talk to Zach, Kaley, and Keziah in Louisiana, and Mr. Miller's parents, other siblings, and some of the extended Miller clan in Washington.

It was, in short, a lovely day.

Merry Christmas from our burrow to yours!

On Broadway

My parents blessed us with an early and NYC-exclusive Christmas gift: tickets to The Lion King! We had heard good things about the Tony award-winning musical, including glowing descriptions of the costumes. Thursday night we saw it for ourselves. The opening number literally took my breath away as the "animals" streamed on stage. There are plenty of pictures floating around the internet, but they do not convey the extraordinary beauty of the costumes in real life because many of the costumes have mechanical parts that must be seen live. The dancing, acting, and music, including many songs that appear only in the Broadway version, were all captivating.

And, of course, my husband provided running commentary on the worldview. For example, the shaman sings that Mufasa "lives in you" and "lives in me." While the play wants to promote ancestorism and pantheism, the idea of an important male king who died to save living within us seems to be borrowing from a certain tradition within monotheism...

Outside the Munskoff Theater in Times Square

Our evening also provided an opportunity to celebrate Mr. Miller's completion of final exams and his birthday. We finally used the gift certificate to Noodle Pudding that my parents gave Mr. Miller for his birthday back in September. The restaurant is a famous Italian eatery just down the street from us in Brooklyn Heights. The food was fantastic if you can just get over the name! We couldn't pronounce most of the menu, but were still thrilled with all our selections, from the house wine and opening salad to my Strozza Preti Alla Siciliana and the chocolate mousse with hazelnut ice cream we shared to close. Our table was nestled up against the window overlooking Henry Street and the restaurant was literally drenched in garlands and twinkle lights. Around us were families with small children sharing supper, which was a sight for sore eyes because we see so few children in the City.

All in all, the evening was the perfect conclusion to a wonderful year. 2007 marks the event of our marriage, our first pregnancy two months later (woot!), and our first homes in such disparate places as Newport Beach, CA and Brooklyn, NY. Thank you, Lord, for your many kind gifts.

He's home!

Mr. Miller left on Thursday morning for a splendid three days in Phoenix, Arizona where he attended The Pursuit, happily bruised his body playing flag football, visited my family, and caught up with old friends, especially college-roommate and best man, Michael Francisco. The Lord blessed Mr. Miller's time immensely. The periodic reports I heard from him and my family members were glowing, and he returned refreshed and excited. In spite of getting scant sleep this weekend and taking the red-eye back to Brooklyn on Sunday morning, he still went straight to church and played in the worship band with joy.

Thank you Mom, Dad, Michael, Rich, Heather, Xander, and Keegan for caring for my husband!

MoMA magic

My husband woke up on Friday suggesting we should go look at art. The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) has free admission on Friday evenings, so off we went.

After waiting in line a short time...
we got in! Mr. Miller was skeptical of some of the art. In fact, after looking at just two pieces, he skipped an entire room of Kara Walker who is the new hotness in the modern art world. (A Sun review vindicated his impulse.) We lingered long, however, in the design, Soviet architecture, and minimalism exhibits.





I liked this lady falling into the sculpture garden pond:



He liked this series called "StepMaster" and this wall-length proof:




He was disappointed to learn that, up-close, the proof was not legit but instead a lot of scribbling.

As I recount the evening, I am overwhelmed by the way my husband loved me. He is not an art connoisseur; he doesn't even flirt with the idea. He suggested visiting the MoMA solely for me. And, not only that, but rather than just suffering through the experience, he engaged his mind and made thoughtful comments on the pieces. God is so kind to me in giving me a gracious, self-sacrificing man who seeks my joy ahead of his own. Mr. Miller loves me as his own body. In this way, I see how he is Christ's workmanship. Not surprisingly, out of all the art in the world, my husband is my favorite work to behold.

Out-done, but still elated

Speaking of Mahalo bacon, my husband surprised me over dinner on Thursday with the announcement that he is also a Part Time Guide. Furthermore, in just forty-eight hours, he had accomplished what I worked on for six days. But I'm not jealous. His internet comprehension is genius and his typing fingers literally fly. Plus, he was working on a favorite subject.

His work: Brandon Morrow and Ryan Roland-Smith.

My latest work.

Once more, Eisley lilts nicely

The elfish homeschoolers are back with new melodies, but the same ethereal appeal.


Here's the story with Eisley. As many of you know, Mr. Miller and I got to know each other largely through e-mail after meeting briefly at a conference. Just a couple e-mails were enough to convince me that Mr. Miller was the most honorable, godly, brilliant young man of my acquaintance. Yet I had no clue whether he was corresponding with me to merely exchange ideas with a fellow law student and Sovereign Gracer, or, whether there was interest.

Of course I thought the worst. Thus, I was dismayed when I noticed that his e-mail signature read, "Eisley is lovely." I thought, "Great. He has a girlfriend named Eisley and he's trying to give me a hint." Still, the e-mails kept coming so in a moment of brilliance (or jealous curiosity) I googled Eisley and discovered that Eisley is a band, not a girl. Ok, it's technically a girl-band. But I still felt immediate relief!

Days later, Liz, my beloved friend who keeps me abreast of the music world, invited me to see Eisley in concert. Her invitation was fortuitous. Not only did I get to spend time with her, but I got to do so while listening to music enjoyed by this amazing-man-who-did-not-have-a-girlfriend-named-Eisley. Joy!

Last month, Eisley released its second album. We are all happy: Liz, Mr. Miller, and me. I am the most happy. I am married to that Eisley fan, and he's changed his signature line to, "Bethany is lovely."

Bethany Likes Baseball

It's true. It happened last night at Yankee Stadium.

Here's the story. Consistent with his nature, Mr. Miller was very honest about his passion for the Seattle Mariners early in our relationship. Within a month of meeting me, he sent me an e-mail commenting on Arizona's weather, explaining, "It may surprise you that I am abreast of Arizona weather. That is because my Seattle Mariners are playing their Spring Training games in Peoria, AZ." (emphasis added). Noting his use of the possessive, I (hitherto a sports ignoramus) promptly added the Mariners' homepage to my list of favorites and checked it regularly.

That summer, while pursuing me in Arizona, Mr. Miller tutored me in baseball. Together, we attended a number of games at Chase Field, including a game pitting the Diamondbacks against the Mariners. Between my questions and Mr. Miller's patient answers, I learned a little bit about baseball.

To be honest, however, I was worried because I still did not enjoy baseball. When I say "enjoy," I mean liking it as much as shopping, movies, or plays. But then, the season ended and we began focusing on other important things like planning a wedding, classes, and . . . football.

Spring training came, and except for catching a Mariners' game with our wedding party the day before the ceremony, all was quiet on the baseball front. Then the season started. Mr. Miller subscribed to online baseball radio and we began listening to every game. Through aural osmosis, watching his excitement over players and his fantasy team, and reading Mariners-themed blogs with him, I came to have some affection for the Mariners' starters, and, especially, King Felix.

But mild affection became love last night. After Mr. Miller turned in his third (of four) finals, he whisked me away for a special evening he had planned. First, we retraced the walk he used to make from Columbia Law School to Harlem, which begins by walking down a flight of very steep steps along a wall separating Columbia/Manhattan from Harlem.

On the Brink of Harlem

Next, we visited his old apartment in Harlem. It wasn't too scary by daylight, but I was glad to see that he had traded his old apartment with this view:

for our new apartment with this view:

Afterwards, we walked around the corner to have burgers and trans-fat enriched fries at Mama's Fried Chicken, where my husband and his former-roommate and brother, Paul, would eat "only 3-4 times a week," according to Mr. Miller.

Munching on fries, we walked across the Harlem River . . .

and saw this:

Together we entered the stadium. Together we formed the Mariners' Fan Club of Yankee Stadium. We were good because they won!

Almost as important as that victory was the fact that I watched the entire game, agonizing when we were down, wringing my husband's arm during the tense comeback, and even expressing annoyance with the umpires at times. What a miracle! And, I suspect this baseball-thing will only get better from here. I'll let you know after Monday's game.

PS - My husband concluded the night by surprising me with a midnight trip to the Fifth Avenue Apple store where he bought me this.

Wedding Photos 4

The professional photos are finally here! You can view them online.

Go to: www.chrisloomisweddings.tcpic.com

1.) then "view your photos"

2.) then "Bethany and Keith"

Wedding Photos 3

Aunt Tracy surprised me with a birthday gift of wedding photos!

Wedding Photos 2

More wedding photographs from groomsman James Sherk.

A Gift from Mr. Miller

Wedding Photos

One of Keith's friends recently provided these photos from the wedding. Enjoy!

If any of you have photos from the wedding or events surrounding the wedding, would you please provide us digital copies? We will treasure them. And, we look forward to showing you the professional shots you as soon as we hear from our photographer.

Debut in the Big Apple

“Real” life began with a delightful bang last Monday morning! We arrived at JFK airport after double red-eye flights, the first from Maui to Phoenix and then, after an eight-hour visit with my family, the second from Phoenix to New York.


Monday: Shopping Bonanza
Mr. Miller’s younger brother and former roommate, Paul, had blessed us by moving his stuff out even though his new apartment burned down the week of the wedding. Both he and Mr. Miller had prepared the apartment especially to be welcome and clean for me.

However, by the time we unloaded our suitcases and opened packages of gift, the apartment had lapsed into some disorder. In







reaction to the stress, I suggested shopping. Thus commenced a four-hour trip to Target where we purchased two cart’s worth of stuff from our registry. My husband made local Target history by managing to move one of their special magnetized carts outside of the building. As the young sales associate who ran after him as he pushed the brimming cart along the street yelled, “Mister, you can’t do that! You shouldn’t be able to do that!”

NOTE: we are currently sleeping on the twin bed pictured.


Tuesday: Home Bound
Mr. Miller had class all day. I stayed home to clean and organize the house and wait for the post office to bring my packages of winter clothes. There was snow on the ground outside and all I had was resort wear for Maui in my bag. I also discovered that I had failed to remove my wallet from Mr. Miller’s backpack so I was stranded at home with only a little loose change. The man at the corner hot dog stand seemed indifferent to my halter-top and nickels. He awarded me this:

My winter clothes did not arrive. But Mr. Miller negotiated the disposal of our growing pile of old furniture and boxes with the landlord.

Paul joined us that night for the first cooked meal in our new home.
Served: Southwestern Chicken and Black Bean Burritos from Classic Rachael Ray 30-Minute Meals.
Verdict: Decent but needs more seasoning.


Wednesday: Mail!
We woke early to haul trash, boxes, a bed, and a large futon down two flights of stairs to the sidewalk. Mr. Miller attended class all-day while I cleaned the house and walked a couple miles to pick up four boxes of clothes at the Brooklyn post office. Coats! Sweaters! Joy!

We dined that night before going to care group.
Served: "Commander" Tim's Submarine Chili from The Ultimate Chili Book
Verdict: Home Run!

Thursday: Shopping Bonanza II
Because Mr. Miller did not have class, we joined forces for another Target run (we avoided carts) before landing at Crate & Barrel and The Container Store. The Container Store is a heavenly haven for detail-oriented people. (Special shout-out to Mom and Andrea!). An article about living in small spaces in Blueprint inspired me to buy matching boxes for storing some of our smaller items and papers above the kitchen cabinets. Mr. Miller approves of the look so we’re going to buy more.

Strategic Purchase of the Day: a queen-sized bed frame.

Friday: Shopping Bonanza III
Mr. Miller secured the loan of the church mini-van, provided we unloaded a billion pounds of sound equipment before driving it and reloading said poundage upon return. The payoff was well worth the labor. We drove the van out to the Long Island IKEA. From cinnamon rolls to chests-of-drawers, that store treated us well. We emerged several hours later with all kinds of treasures. Before heading back to The City, we purchased a mattress.

But the day was just beginning. We had to maneuver this sofa up these stairs.

Saturday: Work and Play

We woke up sore. Undeterred, we assembled IKEA furniture all-day with a short break to take me to get a haircut. I finally have bangs!

That night, we attended the Barrister’s Ball at Columbia. I wore vintage Elie Tahari with a beaded bag from a boutique in pre-flood New Orleans. Mr. Miller wore a suit. The event was like prom except for the open bar and the extra lines on the faces. We had a glorious time visiting with Mr. Miller’s law school friends and dancing until the early hours of Sunday morning!



Sunday: A Day of "Firsts"
Today was our first time at church as a married couple. (Toby gave an excellent exposition of Ephesians 5:25-33). It was also the first time I’ve seen Mr. Miller play the bass. (He played in the worship band). And, it was the first time we used our mini charcoal grill.

Served: Blue Moon Burgers from Classic Rachael Ray 30-Minute Meals.
Verdict: Excellent, but only if you like blue cheese.

The Honeymoon Skinny

And that is all you're getting on that topic!

After the ceremony, reception, and photographs, Mr. Miller whisked me off to La Hermosa Inn, a local resort that authentically embraces all the beauty of the Arizona desert. We dined that night at Lon's.

The next morning, we overslept. Short of Mr. Miller's daring maneuvers at the airport including cutting over 50 people in line, we would have never boarded our plane to Las Vegas. No, that is not where he took me for the honeymoon! It was just our layover to Maui. ::grin::




For the next six days, we

• slept,
• swam in the ocean,
• picnicked on the beach,
• slept on the beach (see below)

• built a sandfortress (no castles for us),
• watched movies (Hitch, Fever Pitch, The Maltese Falcon, Thank You for Smoking),
• read (Evangelicals in the Public Square, Total Truth, The New York Times Magazine, and Blueprint--the subscription to which was a wedding gift from Mr. Miller), and
• discussed the first two chapters of Genesis and brainstormed ideas of how to implement a pre-Industrial Revolution model of the family in our home.

Our condo had a kitchen so Mr. Miller indulged my long-suppressed home-maker sentiments and allowed me to cook for him frequently. We enjoyed all our breakfasts on our back patio overlooking the beach.

Our Condo (we stayed on the 8th floor)

Breakfast is Served

The Eager Eater

Mr. Miller also tutored me in college basketball. We made a NCAA bracket and watched portions of several games. Go Wisconsin! (So, our bracket didn't work out very well...)

We dined our final night at an open-air restaurant in Lahaina. We enjoyed mai tais, fresh Ahi tuna, crab cakes, sweet peas, and many, many kisses!

Introductory Blog

Welcome to the record of the “goings-on” of our first year of marriage. You may be wondering why the blog link is titled, “Henry Street Burrow.” The first part refers to the dreamy street we live on in Brooklyn. The second part requires more explanation.

Last fall, Mr. Miller explained to me that although our address is not “NY, NY” we still technically live in New York City. The City, evidently, is divided into five boroughs: The Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, and Staten Island. (Indeed, the City is sometimes referred to as the Five Boroughs).

Upon the mention of boroughs, I exclaimed, “Wow, so we’re like little rabbits holed up comfortably in our little cozy burrow of Brooklyn! How romantic!”

Mr. Miller responded, “No, you’re thinking of burrows. These are boroughs.”

borough: a section of a city having authority over local matters.
vs.
borrow: a hollow place dug in the earth by an animal, usually for shelter, refuge, or to rear young.

The blog title protests this distinction!