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wordless

#Googled

I really have to hand it to Google today, guys.  When I first saw the link in my twitter stream this morning, it didn't quite occur to me how awesome the idea was. My first "map your valentine" for Taylor today was only our apartment address: "My home is where you are, my Love."  Simple, sweet.  I didn't think of any grandiose locations to send him on a heart-shaped map.

But then I got his valentine back and I swooned.  Really!  I almost gasped out loud at work (ok, fine, I did gasp out loud at work.. but no one was near my office) :)

Really, the location might not mean anything to anyone else, but to me, it brought back memories of fresh pasta, hot humid days, warm vibrant nights, ancient history living all around me, and lounging in bed for hours on end, with nothing to do but eat tasty food and read Tolkien aloud to each other.  He sent me the address to the apartment in Rome where we stayed for our honeymoon.

Almost

Such a funny word, huh?  All-most. To be all of something that isn't quite. It's similar to being all muddy. Or all giddy.  Or all blue.  Right?

...

Can I admit that I'm kinda proud of myself?  I mean, even though I haven't posted a whole lot on a regular, consistent basis (so much for new year's resolutions, huh?), I've done a wordless photo a week consistently :) That's something, right? It's a start!

I started the wordless thing as an exercise in restraint. To practice not over-explaining my photos or my ideas. To let the picture tell the story. To inspire your imagination.  But I have a confession to make (at least, I think it's a confession--maybe it's more of an Announcement):  I don't like adding titles or descriptions to any of my photos now.  

Well, alright, I do add descriptions to some of them, and I do at least title others.  But when I come to a situation like this, where the photos could all be titled the same thing, or the same one or two things, I think my inherent laziness comes out and I say "oh, you know it's a ginkgo branch." And I leave you to it.

Is that freedom? Is it artistic? Is it really just laziness?

Well... whatever :)

Questions

Anyone (and I mean anyone) who has interacted with a young child has heard the question "Why?" about a ga-zillion times.  "Ok, put you're shoes on!" "Why?" "Because we're going to the store." "Why?" Because we need to get some food. Why? Because we have to eat. Why? Because our bodies need food to stay alive. Why? Because our cells need the energy in the food to function. Why? Um.. because God made it that way!

[Ok, I love you, buh-bye!]

Certainly the preponderance of questions from little ones can be wearying for even the most patient grown-up. But what is it about little kids that is so inquisitive?  Is it merely that they are so young and don't know as much as we, the enlightened adults, do?  Have they simply not asked the right number of questions which gets them to a point when they don't ask "why" anymore?  Or, rather, is it because as they get older, much of the questioning becomes internal and they answer the "why" themselves?

If we think about it, aren't grownups just as inquisitive as little kids? See, I don't think the questions stop as you grow up and get smarter.  I don't think there's a limit to the questions. The questions change, certainly.  Theoretically, after the kid learns about food and digestion and feeding the cells, he won't ask why we need food to eat.

But what about all the other questions that arise from our little dialogue above? What are cells? What are they made of? What do they do? Why did God make it so? Why don't we have any food in the house? Why do I have to put my shoes on if we're going outside? Why is there such a thing as a store? What's inside it? Why do I have to ride in the cart? Can I have a balloon?

Questions never end.  In fact, the process of questioning is so important that people say there's something wrong if someone doesn't ask questions, that we're not using our intellect.  I think they're right.  If we don't ask questions about our experience, how can we possibly form any sound ideas about anything?

Ah, but there's the rub. With questioning comes the responsibility of judgment.  If I question and understand, and still refuse to judge, I am lying to myself and deliberately ignoring my duty as a know-er.  When children ask questions--and when those questions are answered--we are forming their conscience from a young age.  We are teaching them to reason, to think, to wonder, and to understand.

Sometimes, their questions can make us uncomfortable.  Oftentimes, their questions give us pause and we must reconsider our own understanding or worldview.  But this is good for us too. Grownups can get lazy in their questioning process. [I know--I'm quite lazy myself.]  I sometimes ignore certain questions simmering in the back of my mind because I'm afraid of what the answer might be.  Kids aren't afraid of questions. They can ask questions all day, about anything, and remain happy as a clam, processing things right down to the moment they fall asleep, letting their dreams continue their journey of exploration.  Kids just want to know. Everything. They want to know what's true, what has happened, what will happen, and what we are to do now.

Shouldn't we all want to know those things? Shouldn't we want to know everything about everything?

Excellence

You may have noticed that Taylor and I can be a bit.. particular about many things. Coffee, tea, fresh food, nice clothes, good technology.  I know that to many people, we probably come off pretty snobbish and pretentious about such things.  But the truth is, we just love to know (all) about things we're interested in.  And since we're interested in things, we like to share them and about them, too.

Take tea, for instance.  Everyone's had a cup of tea, hot or iced.  Everyone either likes it or doesn't, with or without sugar or cream. But did you know that tea has an amazing history dating back thousands of years? There's worlds of ritual, culture, and tradition wrapped around just one tiny cup of teal. And we think it's fun to learn about how the drink has changed over the centuries and to notice differences in the many types of tea.

We were introduced to good tea by a Taiwanese sister who was studying with Taylor during his master's degree.  Seeing her quiet appreciation of the beverage inspired us to make tea an integral part of our day. It has become a comfort, a pick-me-up, a perfect accompaniment to meals or desserts, and it is such a treat when we can try a new tea.

But we don't look down our noses at teabags. In fact, most of the medicinal (herbal) teas we drink are bagged teas.  Yet, when I want a cup of tea, for the sake of enjoying the drink and savoring the flavor, I prefer good, well-preserved, loose tea leaves, the proper temperature of (filtered) water (no chlorine taste for me, thankyou), and a nice ceramic cup.  It is, in its own small way, art in a cup.

If one has taken the time to learn how to tie his shoes, he'd rather purchase shoes with laces than velcro.  There's nothing wrong with velcro, of course, but there's nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasure of tying two pretty bows, either. It's not about snobbery, it's about passion.

It's very true that there are people who are passionate and snobbish about something, when passion morphs into a conviction of supremacy.  When the gentleman begins to think that to tie one's shoes is the ultimate virtue of mankind and that velcro is only fit for the lowest-of-the-low shoe-wearers, then Huston, we do, indeed, have a problem.

But really--there's nothing wrong with having passions and pursuing them and sharing them. Let's not get too wrapped up in them, naturally, but let us also enjoy the authentic virtue in striving for excellence, in our passions, but also in all things. After all, I'm sure there are connoisseurs of velcro, don't you think?

Content

I bared my soul on our struggle with infertility.

And then one night, as I lay in the comfort of my husband's arms, waiting for sleep to overwhelm my senses, I listened to the quiet in our house.  I heard Taylor breathing peacefully, so close to my ear, quickly asleep after a long day of hard work.  I thought about our week and all that we accomplished.  I thought about our plans for adoption and the many children already in our lives.  I thought about the way we live our life now, and about our plans for shaping the future of our marriage and our family.

As I dozed off, I came to realize that I am most content.  As much as I long for certain things in my life and in our marriage, I am happy.  Incredibly happy.  And I am certain, deep down, that I'd never change a thing outside of God's plan for our lives.

It's true that we still have to prayerfully discern what God desires of us--what we must strive for and what we must pass by.  But for now, I am at peace waiting for the blessings God has in store for us.

Because after all, I have already been blessed infinitely with the Love of my sweet husband.  Any parent (and grandparent) will tell you that children leave the family eventually.  My parents did it. I have done it. My children will do it.  I don't mean to say that children are "lost" to their parents when they begin their own life, but every child grows up.  

Momma always told me your spouse if the only member of your family you ever get to choose ("so choose carefully," I hear her say in the back of my mind).  God placed him before me and I have chosen.  He is mine forever, to help me to heaven and to see God in all things.

And truthfully, what more can I ask for? 

...

[given the proximity of this to my last post, a small note of clarification: this is my best friend's family w/ her new baby] :) 

Quotidian

It's that time of year.  "Spring cleaning" peeps its head out in the back of our minds, emerging from the cozy winter soil, as memory recalls warm sunny days in sun dresses.

I never liked cleaning when I was growing up.  I didn't really like cleaning when I was in college, either.  It was just a chore, something I had to do in order to get to do other things I wanted.  It wasn't until I got married, and had my "own" house to take care of, that I began to appreciate the virtue in good, honest housework.

I recently read an article in Body + Soul magazine (eh, I got a free subscription with some tea I bought online) all about a "fresh look" on spring cleaning.  [Unfortunately, I can't seem to link to it, so you will have to bear with my paraphrasing and re-hashing of the article.]  "The idea," the author states, "is that we should find meaning in ordinary tasks, because true clarity is fleeting enough--and when it's over, somebody still has to clean the crisper."  Ahh, doesn't that ring true with so many things I've learned over the years?

Momma used to tell me, when I emerged from some chore I had finished: "That didn't take long enough. You didn't do it right."  I was always quite appalled and indignant (especially when I had done [almost] everything she asked me to do), because "how would she know?" But, looking back, I realize that she was getting at the same idea as the article.  So much these days says "do it once, never do it again."  With many things it is possible to finish completely the first time, but not with most things in life.  Folded laundry will be worn and need to be washed. Clean dishes will be dirtied. Swept floors will be "dusted." Over and over again.  If repetition is weariness without end, life is exhausting (and if so, frankly, why bother?).  Instead, focus on the now, not on the "when it's finished."

So what's my point?  As a housewife, a philosopher's wife :) I know it's important to have a clean and happy home--one that welcomes not only guests and strangers, but also its more permanent residents.   [I'm not saying your home has to be spotless--taking care to make a "good, clean home" is different than a catalog-perfect "living" space.]  When one comes into a real home, it's apparent in the walls and the floors and the air. A Home is full of Love.

Because, folks, physical things have meaning!  It's not enough to tell your children you love them and pray for them (though those are infinitely important), you have to work out your love--in dirty diapers and banana-crusted floors and mud-stained clothes and temper tantrums (hopefully the kids').  It's not enough to get married and be madly in love with your spouse. Work out your unending Love for him in the unending pile of dishes that accumulate, or the unending cycles of laundry.

It's in such repetition that we, as humans, exist. Breathing and waking up and going to sleep are all repetitive. Seeing the sun rise and set each day is repetitive. Hearing your child(ren) laugh (again and again (at the same thing)) is repetitive. Why don't those things weary us?  In housework, too, we can find joy in the repetition.  In going back to the sink, for the third time today, I can find a moment's peace in the warm sudsy water, in the lemon scent of my soap, in the knowledge that we have enough food.  Make it a meditation. Pay attention to what you're doing.

See, housework and all those blissfully quotidian, repetitive tasks, are a kind of therapy, really. A perfect meditation. Doing the dishes is calming and relaxing for me (mostly--sometimes I'm just tired).  It's something I do on my own, so it gives me a window of time where I can think to myself.  Folding laundry is the same way. Repetitive, soothing, consistent.  I fold everyone of Taylor's t-shirts the same way.  I sort the socks and match them up.  I re-organize our sweater cubby so they don't fall out.  I put the clothes away and admire a clean room, all put together.

We should all revel in a little repetition--it's good for us :)

Blogger's Block!

I haven't blogged in a while.

A long while.

Not because I didn't have things to write about, but because I didn't have time to write about them.

And I'm lazy.

I didn't even do a lot of blog-reading over break... so I had a long list of catch-up posts to read (which were great) :)

But now that I have (a little more) time to blog, I can't decide where to begin.

Should I start from where I am right now? Should I tell you about our Christmas and New Year break? Should I share with you all the (hundreds) of pictures I took over break? Something in between?

So I'm stuck in blog-writer's block.

I should have blogged over break. I should have made the time to at least say hello and post a picture or two.  It's not like I couldn't have made the time.

New Years Resolution #1: 

blog regularly, regardless

So... what does that mean? It has to be more than a monthly thing, because I'm almost always able to post 10 blogs a month, but I want it more regular than that.  If I say three times a week, that would be 12 blogs a month. Not enough. Four times a week? Do you think I can do that consistently? That's a blog every other day, or so.  I think I can do that...

But the first week of 2010 is already shot. I suppose I could try to do 8 posts this week... haha! I'm counting this as number one.

[Retrospective] Menu

That is to say, I wasn't "on the ball" enough to post this at the beginning of the week, and I haven't planed next week's menu completely yet.  So this past week's will have to do. [click on the menu pic for a larger view]

Part of being a philosopher's wife means living with a budget.. and while I am the first confess I am not good with budgets, menu planning definitely helps me in that area.  It helps me not waste food (another good thing on a budget) and it makes my evenings much nicer--no scrambling to figure out what's for dinner, realizing I have nothing quick to make for my starving husband, and having to rush to the store for something quick or (even worse (for the budget)) going out to eat.

My favorite part, though, is that it gives me a chance to sit down with my Sweet P'Taylor and talk about our week--if he wants to invite people over for dinner, I can plan that into the menu.  If we're going to some school, function, hey! it's a meal I don't have to think about.  It's a lovely, weekly catch-up that's quick and quite functional.

So I wanted to go over my philosophy in menu planning, not because you're terribly interested, but because I like to talk about food :)

I don't usually plan a variety of breakfasts, except on the weekends.  During the week, it's a whole lot of oatmeal, mixed up by what fruit we have on hand (fresh or dried).  Weekends are fun, though. I love pancakes and enjoy trying new kinds on a Saturday morning, when we don't have to be anywhere on time.  Sometimes I'll make scones or waffles.
[Favorite way to eat oatmeal: 2 T milled flax seed mixed in, 1-2 T coconut oil, agave nectar, and sliced bananas on top. It's like a pina colada for breakfast :)]

I don't really plan lunches either.  When we're at home, it's easy--leftovers (mm, and it's always nice to have a warm lunch on a cold day).  When we're going to be at work or school, T usually packs a sandwich and some fruit.  I also make protein bars (recipe forthcoming), and we take those as snacks, too.  I only bring snacks :)  I hate the idea of eating a whole lunch at work, so I bring one snack for work and when I get home, I have another snack and start making dinner.
[Current favorite snack (and seasonable!): apples and cashew butter]

But I do plan dinners. Meticulously. In the interest of both saving money and improving our diet, I only plan a meal with meat twice a week.  Also, in the interest of improving brain function for my smarty-pants-student husband :) I plan fish two nights a week.  Two nights a week, we always have a "vegetarian" meal, and one night a week is leftovers.  [We also eat leftovers for lunch whenever we're home.]  So "leftovers night" may end up being a meat, fish, or vegetarian.  It varies from week to week.

My meal planning revolves around Thursdays--the day of the farmer's market.  I can get meat and fish there, too.  I thoroughly enjoy going to a farmer's market because it's slowly teaching me what vegetables are in season and when.  Can you believe I never knew peaches were a later-summer fruit?  And I didn't even know what garlic scapes were... imagine my deprivation!  Anyway. I really try to only shop on Thursdays and if I forget something on my list, I improvise or leave it out.

Friday is always a fish day.  Monday is usually the other fish day, but fish is a very quick meal, so I sometimes mix up my dinner schedule on nights when I have less energy or time.  (Momma always did that.  When she planned meals, she'd just write out 7 dinners that she had ingredients for and choose which dinner she'd make each night.  That wouldn't work for me, mostly, though.  I would make all the quick-and-easy dinners all in a row and then have several more involved dinners toward the end of my week..)  

Tuesday is our Two's-Day, so that meal, whether meat, fish, or vegetarian, is something we try to make together and sit down and eat together without other distractions :)

Since it's colder now, I'm trying to make a soup (or a chili) once a week.  Soup is a very easy meal to prepare, especially if you have a husband who thinks soup is a meal (keep working on him, R!).

I have often entertained with soup, too.  It's such a comfort food for me, I guess I assumed everyone else likes it as much as I do.  It gives me a chance to be with the company more, rather than in the kitchen making an elaborate meal. And although there are soups that take a while longer to make, it's a one-pot thing and is great for leftovers.  Which brings us to my next point :)

Since my meal-planning week begins on Thursday, Wednesday is usually the leftovers night.  It gives me a good chance to go through my fridge and see what ingredients I may have on hand for the next week.

Another thing I do is save all my weekly menus.  So far (since I haven't been doing this too long), I haven't had to refer back to any menus for ideas, but I'm sure that, once I hit a repeat season (ahem, when it's warm again), I'll go back to some of my summer menus and enjoy my salad-rich/stove-poor meals :)  And as you can see, I put the page number and the cookbook where the recipe's from.  I'm the kind of person that will forget where she found the recipe two days after writing it down...

So that's how I do it.  Interested in any of the recipes we did this week? Let me know :)

Musings of a Law Student's Wife

[I don't think I'm going to change the description of my blog (from "musings of a philosopher's wife") just because T's in law school now.  I think he's still a philosopher at heart (and always will be).  But I wanted to put "on the record" my initial thoughts after attending my first law school event.]

Last night T and I went to a BBQ for the environmental law group on campus.  We met several professors, I met several of T's classmates, and we ate tasty burgers :) A very pleasant evening (if a little chilly).

When we arrived (a little late, I'm afraid, because I just had to do my exercises before picking up T) Prof. Platter (the host of the evening; who teaches T's property class) began introducing several of the professors in attendance, all of whom are interested in environmental law issues.  The funniest one, I have to admit, was the animal law professor.  As she was speaking, the dog-in-residence came bounding out of the house, right in the middle of the yard where we were all gathered, speak-toy in mouth, and proceeded to wrestle with the toy, squeaking the rest of the way through the professor's little speech.  Too funny :)

All in all, I really did have a good time. T's classmates (whom I met) are engaging and fun to be around. I was a little worried they'd only talk about law stuff.  [At least at philosophy department gatherings, I had some ground to stand on (thanks to GU's phil minor!).]  But happily, they talked about all sorts of things and I felt very welcome and it was all very interesting, and sometimes pretty hilarious. :) T has already developed a reputation for "knowing everyone."  That's my boy!

 I'm looking forward to the boat cruise on Saturday evening.  T tells me that there are pockets of students that can get... a little "rowdy" (shall we say), but that there should be lots of fun people who won't feel the need to become intoxicated beyond recall ;)  Those are more my style anyway.

So CHEERS! to law school.  It's going to be an exciting few years, but, as T has always said, "It's us and God, Annie! Let's take on the world!"

And we will :)

Movies and Painting

I visited my friend Mandy last night (who is due to have her little girl next month! (and who is also the co-founding member of the Boston chapter of the Philosophers' Wives support group)) and we painted some Noah's ark pieces together. Since I have a (relatively) small number of paints, I was able to pack up all the necessary accoutrement and head down to her house. It was so much fun! Paining, as I grew up doing it, was somewhat a communal thing. My family usually painted (or crafted) on the kitchen table, and there were always people coming and going, ooh-ing and awe-ing over the painted (or crafted) pieces. I can't say that I've not enjoyed painting by myself lately, but it was just so nice to have someone else there painting with me! It's funny how similar she and I are, especially because our (philosopher) husband get along so well, too. On Flixter (on Facebook), she and I are soul mates! And speaking of movies, we both like to put a movie on while we're doing other things--cleaing the house, cooking, painting. Last night we watched the Sword in the Stone (yeah, I do really like that movie!) and--ELF! Yes! A Christmas movie in September. Shocking? We loved it. ("I just like smiling; smiling's my favorite.") A grand evening with a good (and adorably pregnant) friend :) Check out my Noah's ark album on Picasa

Noah's Ark

"Is That a Technical Term?"

My friend, on how to display a pretty link to photos in my blog:

"Uh, I had trouble with that too. I forget how I eventually made that work.

"It takes some dinking around [with the program]. "Then you get some Java mumbo jumbo, then you go back to your blog and put the Java in a page edit linky place." Ah, how I love the technological world we live in!

An Educated Lady

Look at me, Momma! I've finally framed my diplomas and put them in my office :) It was my treat to myself for this school year (having had both degrees for over a year, I figured it's finally time to put them up)! Now I'm really an educated lady!

Philosophers' Wives Support Group (Boston Chapter)

Well, yesterday evening, we had a small dinner party (yes, I know--it's really just an excuse to use my china!) :) Dave and Mandy came over early and hung out a bit before Prof. Byrne and his wife, Joan, came. It was a delightful little gathering, but T, Dave, and their professor are three peas in a pod, as far as philosophy goes. Luckily, though, Mandy and Joan and I were all able to... commiserate? sympathize? roll our eyes together? chuckle knowingly? at how similar our husbands were. It was grand fun. As a philosopher's wife, one never knows when the conversation will suddenly turn from discussions of normal, every-day pleasantries to a metaphysical exposition on the latest lecture her philosopher-husband attended. Now, when you get three of these (Lonerganian) philosophers together, it's an exciting adventure down the "further pertinent questions" lane regarding the "already-out there-now-real" and the "unity-identity-whole" (and don't forget to mention your intentionality and emergent probability!). My favorite part, though, was when Joan, Mandy, and I were all able to share what we say when people ask us, "So, what does your husband do?" Joan: "Oh, he's a teacher." Interlocutor: "High school?" "No." "College?" "Yes." "Well, what does he teach?" *under her breath* "philosophy" "Oh.. interesting." Mandy: "He's getting his master's degree." "Oh, in what?" "Philosophy." "What does he want to do with that?!" "Law School." *relieved* "Oh! Good for him." Me: "He's a philosopher." "Oh." *awkward silence* "But he does lots of other things, too! He wants to get a JD and a PhD and teach somewhere and he has lots of business experience." "Uh huh..." The dinner itself went well, too. We made a yummy beef roast (which, I think, was a tad too rare for most people, but I didn't hear any complaints, so it must have been tolerable) and mashed potatoes, and Dave and Mandy brought salad fixings which were very delicious (field greens with candied walnuts, craisins, goat cheese, and pear vinegarette dressing). Fresh peach crisp and ice cream for dessert with tea and coffee. A fun evening with good friends (and lots of leftovers! yay!).

In Defense of Philosophers

"I don't know where my expertise is; my expertise is no disciplines. I would recommend to drop disciplinarity wherever one can. Disciplines are an outgrowth of academia. In academia you appoint somebody and then in order to give him a name he must be a historian, a physicist, a chemist, a biologist, a biophysicist; he has to have a name. Here is a human being: Joe Smith -- he suddenly has a label around the neck: biophysicist. Now he has to live up to that label and push away everything that is not biophysics; otherwise people will doubt that he is a biophysicist. If he's talking to somebody about astronomy, they will say "I don't know, you are not talking about your area of competence, you're talking about astronomy, and there is the department of astronomy, those are the people over there," and things of that sort. Disciplines are an aftereffect of the institutional situation." Heinz von Foerster, from an interview with the Stanford Humanities Review ------ Having married a philosopher, I feel it's time to speak out in their favor. When people ask me what my husband does, I say, "He's getting his master's degree in philosophy at BC." (Sometimes I have to add, "Well, that's what he's doing right now. He wants to do a lot of things, including a few PhD's and maybe a JD and business experience.") It's always a little irritating when they say, often derisively, "Oh, what does he want to do? Teach?" Why is it that people think the only thing you can do with a philosophy degree (or classics, for that matter. grrr) is teach? Good philosophy should be the thorough and honest study of everything--the pursuing of one's unrestricted desire to know. Do you know that Ph.D. means "Doctorate of Philosophy"? That means you get a Doctorate of Philosophy in Chemistry, or a Doctorate of Philosophy in Cello Performance. Philosophy means the love of wisdom. If you have a PhD in chemistry, you have a love of the wisdom which chemistry offers. But what if you get a doctorate of philosophy in philosophy? You profess a love of wisdom offered by the love of all wisdom. It makes perfect sense to me that T wants a PhD in philosophy--he wants to know everything about everything. It's true that not all philosophy programs (and teachers) foster this love of wisdom about everything (or one thing). There are two analogies from Walker Percy that I think are fittingly applied to the word philosophy. It is like a very old coin that is still in use, but whose markings and differentiating symbols have been rubbed bare by over use. I often hear people clamoring about a "philosophy of living" or that "philosophy = X." But what do they mean when they use the word? Or, the word philosophy is like the hull of a very old ship, encrusted with so many barnacled layers of meaning that it is now barely recognizable as itself. Truly, philosophy carries with it much baggage. In this picture, the debate rises, "but what do you mean by philosophy? Is it a way of living or is it something you study in school and have tests on? Can you do philosophy or can you just read about it? Are there implications or is it just a collection of nice ideas to think about when you're bored?" The questions are endless. But still, bearing in mind the above quotation by von Foerster, I think philosophers should reawaken their unrestricted desire to know everything about everything. No more of this "I'm a 'philosopher' but I'm only interested in so-and-so's interpretation of this one particular sentence in this obscure work by another so-and-so you've probably never heard of." If the 'philosopher' is sincerely interested in that obscure something, fine. But he shouldn't let it be the sole focus of his studies. Similarly we, the "common people," the "uneducated," the "non-specialists," should NOT rely solely on the advice of the elite specialists! Everyone has a desire to know. Go find out everything about everything. As Calvin puts it, "Let's go exploring."