<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:43:52.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tasting Life Twice</title><subtitle type='html'>a journal of reflections on things seen and unseen, whimsical and wise, ordinary and odd, magical and mundane, with a few stretchers thrown in here and there for good measure
-- Travis Tamerius</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115767196923314401</id><published>2006-09-07T18:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T18:32:49.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Characters from O'Connor: The Dog-gone Headache</title><summary type='text'>Flannery O’ Connor (d. 1964) the late, great southern novelist was once asked why she wrote such eccentric characters into her short stories. She responded: “to the hard of hearing you shout, to the almost deaf and blind, you draw large and startling characters.” To honor Miss O'Connor, and her valuable collection of exotics, we recognize other such characters who would be right at home in one of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115767196923314401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115767196923314401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/09/characters-from-oconnor-dog-gone.html' title='Characters from O&apos;Connor: The Dog-gone Headache'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115725038293609604</id><published>2006-09-02T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T21:27:04.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Landing In a Tale</title><summary type='text'> "And we shouldn't be here at all, if we'd known more about it before we started. But I suppose it's often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things [people] went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115725038293609604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115725038293609604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/09/landing-in-tale.html' title='Landing In a Tale'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115711052060423176</id><published>2006-09-01T06:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T06:35:20.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Whiff of Wonder: Recovering the Earth, the Body and the Hope of Resurrection</title><summary type='text'>Wendell Berry’s novel, Jayber Crow, tells the story of a young man who flirts with the notion of becoming a preacher before deciding to become the only barber in the small community of Port Township.Jayber reflects on his brief stay at Pigeonville College, where young men are trained to become preachers:“I wish I could give you the right description of that atmosphere. It was soapy and paperish </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115711052060423176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115711052060423176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/09/little-whiff-of-wonder-recovering.html' title='A Little Whiff of Wonder: Recovering the Earth, the Body and the Hope of Resurrection'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115642993268895727</id><published>2006-08-24T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T09:32:12.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Chuck Noland Talks to His Volleyball</title><summary type='text'>A recent article I wrote on solitude and friendship can be found offsite athttp://www.christourkingcolumbia.org/lorica/06may.html</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115642993268895727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115642993268895727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-chuck-noland-talks-to-his.html' title='Why Chuck Noland Talks to His Volleyball'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115612785768323279</id><published>2006-08-20T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T21:45:19.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gilead</title><summary type='text'>Here are a few savory excerpts from Marilynne Robinson’s book, Gilead, which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2005.“How do you tell a scribe from a prophet?....The prophets love the people they chastise.”“If you want to inform yourselves as to the nature of hell, don’t hold your hand in a candle flame, just ponder the meanest, most desolate place in your soul.”“Grace is not so poor a thing </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115612785768323279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115612785768323279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/gilead.html' title='Gilead'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115602427400559413</id><published>2006-08-19T16:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T16:51:14.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Saving Your Life Now?</title><summary type='text'>“Many years ago now, when I was invited to speak at a church gathering, my host said, ‘Tell us what is saving your life now.’  It was such a good question that I have made a practice of asking others to answer it even as I continue to answer it myself.  Salvation is so much more than many of its proponents would have us believe.  In the Bible, human beings experience God’s salvation when peace </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115602427400559413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115602427400559413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-is-saving-your-life-now.html' title='What is Saving Your Life Now?'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115555636356758313</id><published>2006-08-14T06:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T06:52:43.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wendell Berry Was Right</title><summary type='text'>Technology can foster an illusion that we are omnipresent – that I can be wherever I want, whenever I want. Since its inception, television and VCRs and DVD players, for example, have allowed us an escape from the here and now so that we can spend an hour or two somewhere else at some other time – in Mayberry (Andy Griffith Show) or at a bar in Boston (Cheers) or an apartment in New York (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115555636356758313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115555636356758313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/wendell-berry-was-right.html' title='Wendell Berry Was Right'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115539063063263177</id><published>2006-08-12T08:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T08:50:30.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Don't Get to Be a Star All the Time</title><summary type='text'>It seems there is a doping mechanism in modern society that renders us incapable of honoring the ordinary routines of life.  Constantly craving something novel, hungering for the extra-ordinary, we become addicts constantly in search of a new fix.  Therapists describe the challenge of trying to get alcoholics to live in between the crises.  They identify patients who frequently manufacture a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115539063063263177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115539063063263177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/you-dont-get-to-be-star-all-time.html' title='You Don&apos;t Get to Be a Star All the Time'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115505374297069509</id><published>2006-08-08T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T11:19:28.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Long and Short of It Is This</title><summary type='text'>One of the worst feelings in life is to be 53 inches tall when you need to be 54 inches. That was the case with my 9 year old, Jonathan, who was too short to ride the Batman ride at Six Flags the other day. I remember those days. Going to Six Flags in the 70s and spending the two hour drive to the park worrying about whether or not you’d be able to get on the Screamin’ Eagle. Jonathan was not the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115505374297069509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115505374297069509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/long-and-short-of-it-is-this.html' title='The Long and Short of It Is This'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115496645581471851</id><published>2006-08-07T10:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T23:16:04.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Legacy of Steinbeck</title><summary type='text'> Of all the praises offered John Steinbeck, author of The Grapes of Wrath and Of Mice and Men, this stands as my favorite. Thomas Steinbeck, his son and an author himself, recently noted: "You didn't grow up in the shadow of John Steinbeck. He put you on his shoulders and gave you all the light you wanted."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115496645581471851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115496645581471851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/legacy-of-steinbeck.html' title='The Legacy of Steinbeck'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115462387934067912</id><published>2006-08-03T11:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T12:12:54.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Surprises of Storytelling</title><summary type='text'>Commonly, we think of a writer as sitting at his or her computer, knowing precisely where the plot is going from beginning to end, who does what, how each character behaves and so on. Such is our notion of authorial intent: the author intends for the character to do that and so the character will. More than one writer of fiction, though, has described the writing task as filled with unexpected </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115462387934067912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115462387934067912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/surprises-of-storytelling.html' title='The Surprises of Storytelling'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115453107052478887</id><published>2006-08-02T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T16:05:04.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Characters from O'Connor: A New Pension Plan</title><summary type='text'>Central Missouri man charged with hiding father's bodyASSOCIATED PRESS08/02/2006VERSAILLES, Mo. (AP) -- A central Missouri man has been charged with hiding his father's body in a dog-filled trailer for more than eight months while using the retiree's pension to buy everything from marijuana to gas.Rodney Gene Gasper, 33, was arrested Monday at a home in Eldon and charged Tuesday in Morgan County </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115453107052478887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115453107052478887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/characters-from-oconnor-new-pension.html' title='Characters from O&apos;Connor: A New Pension Plan'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115453048861621193</id><published>2006-08-02T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T10:00:10.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Characters from O’Connor</title><summary type='text'>Flannery O’ Connor (d. 1964) the late, great southern novelist was once asked why she wrote such eccentric characters into her short stories. She responded: “to the hard of hearing you shout, to the almost deaf and blind, you draw large and startling characters.” To honor Miss O'Connor, and her valuable collection of exotics, we recognize other such characters who would be right at home in one of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115453048861621193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115453048861621193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/08/characters-from-oconnor.html' title='Characters from O’Connor'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115392987947499945</id><published>2006-07-26T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T11:22:43.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Converting Ink into Blood</title><summary type='text'>“I know that the Bible is a special kind of book, but I find it as seductive as any other. If I am not careful, I can begin to mistake the words on the page for the realities they describe. I can begin to love the dried ink marks on the page more than I love the encounters that gave rise to them. If I am not careful, I can decide that I am really much happier reading my Bible than I am entering </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115392987947499945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115392987947499945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/07/converting-ink-into-blood.html' title='Converting Ink into Blood'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115374782500499867</id><published>2006-07-24T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T08:30:25.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabbatical Reflections</title><summary type='text'>“Sometimes the best way to give a punch is to step back.  But if you step back too far, you’re not fighting.” So says Eddie “Scrap Iron” Dupris (played by Morgan Freeman) in a Million Dollar Baby.  This is useful advice, not only for the boxing ring, but for the ring of life.  On various occasions in the ministry of Jesus, he withdrew to a lonely place to pray, not in an attempt to escape the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115374782500499867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115374782500499867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/07/sabbatical-reflections.html' title='Sabbatical Reflections'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31074892.post-115280185133962343</id><published>2006-07-13T09:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T09:01:00.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Horned Melon</title><summary type='text'>So last week I went to a Vancouver grocery store to get a carton of yogurt. While there the cereal aisle beckoned and I decided to buy a box of Captain Crunch as well, only the Captain Crunch box was written in French and it said something else which I can’t pronounce or remember. What I do remember is that one small box was $5.89 or you could buy two boxes for $7 if…..if you were a member of the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115280185133962343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31074892/posts/default/115280185133962343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tastinglifetwice.blogspot.com/2006/07/horned-melon.html' title='The Horned Melon'/><author><name>TLT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
