A Reunification Plan

Disclaimer:  Plan is not subject to this chart and may deviate at any moment!  It may be wishful thinking that all pathways lead to SD:)

Cherry Blossom Globe

I have been living life in a cherry blossom globe. 

The cottony flowers soften the menacing challenges

and send encouragement as ogres are faced.  

A few times the globe was shaken and petals fell, but in doing so created a beautiful swirl.  

We are not totally out of the woods, but they are subdued.  The sweet spring air surrounds and we can freely enjoy the cozy array of blossoms.

Now the time has come to depart from this flowery cocoon of restoration- I hear the jasmine calling from the other side of the country, and geraniums beckoning from their window boxes on the other side of the world.  But I will not forget my weeks here and will always treasure our time in the Cherry Blossom Globe.

Good-Bye Eaves Drop House

There is much that will be missed as we move our lives out of potato country.  True friends impacted our lives and we will treasure these relationships despite geographical differences.  A charming house made a delightful home, and the spider alarms definitely kept the elephants away.  (We will see if they accomplish this successfully in our new place.)  And so we bid Boise adieu and welcome all visitors to the beach where yurts may or may not be provided.


 

Showers of Blessing – A True Story

Prologue:  With over 200 days of sunshine, Phin originally moved to Boise to escape what he and others term, “the dreariness of Western Washington.”  I joined him a few years later and experienced desert-like conditions that made me parched in more ways than one.  Together we began a quest for a vibrant place to grow our emotional health, creativity, and most of all our spiritual life.  A few months ago we realized this place existed in community irrespective of location.  However, a move to a sunny coastal city had already been set in motion, and we prepared to leave our new-found, though life-long, friends.

 

As we began packing, the need to simplify our lives became clear.  It felt like an invitation to support our Boise friends was being extended, and while we were eager to accept, we wanted others to have the opportunity as well.  Thus for the last few weeks, we have been encouraged by people’s generosity as carloads of items have been collecting in our porch for the community garage sale.

The Story:  Monday forecasted a 30% chance of rain for our Saturday Garage Sale, and I was not concerned.  The group was praying for sunshine and it wouldn’t even need to be a large miracle for God to make it a sunny day.  By Friday, there was 100% chance of rain.  Text messages were flying back and forth – should we postpone? (Not really an option since the word had already gone out and our moving day was less than a week away)  Have it inside our house instead of the centrally located church parking lot? (This had some appeal – but would take a lot of last minute organization and there were concerns that no-one would show.) 

Believing God was in control and knew about our timing constraints, we decided to hold the garage sale as planned.  Tents and tarps were gathered by resourceful members, although deep down I expected a beautiful day that was sure to shock and stun.  Early Saturday morning, I was awoken to the steady drumming of raindrops.  Not to worry – the rain was getting it out of its system before the 10:00 sale.  Doubts did creep in when I looked out the window and saw the extent of the “system”.  There was not a cloud break in sight – just a dome with shades of gray and black that forecasted a gloomy, dismal day.   My next conversation with God went something like this:

               “I thought for sure You would answer my prayer for a beautiful day so this sale would be a blessing”

               “I am giving you a beautiful day!”  

This cut the dialogue short and made me laugh as I thought back to our previous conversations and wondered why the specific word, “sunny” had never come up.  Arriving at the church, I was greeted by a tent city and eager customers.  The next few hours are a blur as we negotiated prices, patched leaks, dried merchandise, and continually re-organized around streams that kept springing.  As the hubbub continued, I stopped to observe the vignettes around me.  It was poetry in motion, and I was amazed and humbled by the group’s talents, thoughtfulness, and generosity.  I watched decorating savants, organizational geniuses, heavy lifters, and tarp patrollers all serving each other and those around them with unabashed elation, despite the wild conditions. 

The rain continued into the afternoon picking up ferocity.  After rescuing yet another table from a new water surge, one of us cheerfully announced, “It can’t rain like this forever.”  Within seconds the rain replied with a much stronger torrential downpour.  At this point all our efforts were on rescue, and yet items continued to sell.  In spite of the crazy storm, cozy moments occurred beneath the struggling tarps.  A quiet man was delighted with his find; a book of paintings inspired by Galatians 5.  Fifteen years ago, this passage spoke to him while in prison and led to a joyful, spirit-filled life.  He reminded me how well we can see God at work when there is a storm raging on the outside.  His was metaphorical while ours was physical, but the results were the same.  God was at work, and this could be seen because of, not despite, the adverse conditions.

I laid in bed, tired to my bones, and thought back to the events of the day and those leading up to it.  It was like flipping through Polaroid photos.  Distinct moments had been captured in my memory and a pattern emerged.  We couldn’t account for our high sales based on the weather, our great advertising, or our musical entertainment.  We had been part of something extraordinary.  I fell asleep thinking, “God – what a beautiful day!”

The One that Got Away

The drinks were frothy and delicious, and I was enjoying mine while sitting on a small tuffet next to a Moroccan Coffee Table.  Focused on the glamorous arrivals, I could tell we were with the popular crowd because they were all wearing bracelets that glittered and jiggled.  Even more telling, laughs were sparkling more than drinks, which they somehow sipped without leaving red lipstick on the glass. 

So this is life in my new state, I thought to myself, and felt a twinge of loneliness in the crowd.  Before I could fully concentrate on how much of an outsider I was, I saw her.  She was beautiful like the others, but with a face I knew and hoped to see again someday.  In middle school my best friend moved away to reluctantly embrace life as a California Girl, and I had not seen her again until this moment.

She was truly a long lost friend.  Moving away before the ease of email (much less Facebook) could keep us in contact, we had exchanged several letters.  But the years of our friendship became distant, bonds frayed, and our connection finally severed.  Every once in a while I would remember how my childhood is linked to hers and would try random searches.  No contact information was forthcoming, and with a sigh I accepted that she was just part of my past.    

She sat down on an adjacent tuffet and started talking like we had seen each other last week.  For some reason it was hard for her to understand how amazed I was at this unexpected reunion, and so I tried to be casual and kept my exclamations in check.  We had so much catching up to do, but in mere minutes, the doorman came and announced that her limo had arrived.  As she stood to go, I cried, “Wait! Let me at least get your phone number.”  I searched in my pocket for paper and writing utensils but could only scavenge up a goldfish cracker – an escapee from an earlier snack.  “Here, scratch it out on this,” I said, and handed her the lone fish.  Her exquisite nails were perfect for carving in tiny numbers and she laughed as she handed me the tiny cracker tablet.

I watched her exit, surrounded by vivacious friends, obviously living a golden life in the Golden State.  She gracefully got into the limo and gave me a little wave before closing the door.  As the car drove away, I looked down at the note in my hand.  Before I had a chance to decipher the numbers, the little fish crumbled into a million bits.  The limo disappeared around the corner, and all I had of our future friendship was a handful of crumbs.    

Eyes are Everywhere!!

I was walking down the street the other day and had the feeling I was being watched.  Looking around, there was no-one in sight, and I continued on my way.  Apparently I was not alone, and the way I was avoiding cracks in the sidewalk in a hopscotch-like manner was more than a little shocking for one very sheltered bystander.  (At least I hope it was the way I was hopscotching and not one of my oblivious oddities that made the googly eyes pop out in such astonishment.)

Red Letter Day!

I love getting the mail on Valentine's Day:)

The Soiree

Tiny ice crystals came in with every sip of oxygen.  By the time the lungs had tamed the air from piercing stabs to sharp tingles, the breath escaped back into the night air.  Breathing is a continual process, but in this case there was nothing automatic about it.  Each inhale was a conscious choice and each exhale a reluctant gasp.  We were dressed in our finest making our way in a shuffle dance across the frozen landscape.  Many wore black tails signifying the most formal of affairs; however, the waddle steps belied any sort of somberness.  The waddling was not due to hot spiced rum (although I’m guessing no-one would have turned down a mug if offered), but rather the dance was another manifestation of the arctic conditions.  We were trying to walk without having our limbs touch the outer layers which had frozen stiff into icy shackles.  Some people call this soiree a march, but I prefer to call it a parade.  You can’t beat the exhilarating adventure that is the life of a penguin!

Photo Source

A Small Grouch

We picked up a small fellow on our recent travels and stowed him away.  He seemed a bit prickly at first which was part of his charm.  I was hoping his "grumpy old man" ways would cheer me up, and indeed they have.  Due to his size, he can only manage to be a slight curmudgeon which comes out as a "Hmpff" every now and then.  For that reason, we call him - Humphrey (and beyond the scaggles, he is a sweetheart).

Traveling Tales

You will not believe what happened to me!!!!!

I got to my hotel around 10:00pm – it is in old town (very cute during the day – so I’m told) and as I pushed the button for the rickety elevator I told myself, “be charmed not scared of the quirks”.  I landed on the “L” floor and took a complete trek around the swimming pool/hallway of cobblestones – yes my bag was rumbling along very loudly before I spiraled into the actual lobby.  There was a sign on the counter – “Be back in a few minutes”.  I sat down on the couch to wait as patiently as I could.  Eventually the guy came in and asked, “How old is your baby?”  I looked at him confusedly and then realized I was holding a mass of coats and a travel blanket in a crumpled heap.  I guess this could be mistaken as a baby if the mother (apparently me) was quite disinterested in the bundle of joy and perhaps a bit tipsy.  He gave me my key and told me to be careful with it since the machine was broken and there would be no option of replacing it.  

With a deep breath, I got back into what I hoped was not a death trap and took it to the 3^rd floor.  My room was right off the elevator.  The door opened, but the light would not turn on.  Through the darkened hallway it looked like there was suitcases next to the stand – further investigation showed me people sized lumps in the bed!!!!  I did a backwards crab scurry out of there.  As the door slammed shut, I thought, “No way did I see that – my imagination must be playing tricks.”  So, yes, I opened the door again – focused on the suitcase – took a mental snapshot and slammed the door again.  Now I was scared that I might have angered whoever was in there and they would be coming after me!!!  Thankfully  the elevator remained a perfect gentlemen and had waited for my bolting exit – I apologized for my uncharitable thoughts toward it earlier.  Back to the lobby – heart still racing – new room – seems unoccupied – now trying to calm down and enjoy a night of sleep!!!! 

P.S.  The lobby guy took my story in stride and never even raised an eyebrow of surprize!!!  I have triple locked my current room – but I am not sure sleep will be enjoyedL

Painting the World

Every year I look forward to reading a letter from myself from the previous year.  An unintentional trend is to describe my view of the world at the time in terms of a painting.  Here is a sampling of the last 3 years (including a sneak peak of what I will read next year in 2015!):

Jan 1, 2012

 "I think of the world as big, bold, beautiful colors and patterns"

Life was hectic but full of zestful living - not passive at all - I was just trying to keep up and dance in all the colors.

Jan 1, 2013

"I am living in a beige world and it is currently uninspired"

Jan 1, 2014

"The world is looking to be in varying shades of blue, gray and white"

 I love when the landscape looks like it could be a black and white photo.  It provides such a peaceful backdrop full of possibilities for adding accent colors.  

 

Life vs Existence

Thoughts have been circulating for some time about finding the perfect location to live.  There may be a weather related theme but this came after a week of living in a house that would not warm up - only to realize our back door had blown open for who knows how long!!!!  (I'm still a little scared that a raccoon lodger may have moved in).  Below in no particular order are some of the swirling thoughts:

-  "I can't believe I live in Idaho!!!!"
-  "Wouldn't it be great to spend a year in Seville or Perth or the Caribbean..."
-  "I want to live in the same city as my sister!!!!!"
-  "I think I could be less of a couch potato if the weather outside was more inviting"
- "It would be great to live in a place where Winter was only experienced on fun ski vacations"
- "It would be a little sad to move out of our Eaves Drop House"
- "Would living in a tree house be a fun adventure?"

Then in my readings, I came across a quote that saddened me but served as a reminder of the importance of fully living regardless of location.

"We have a beautiful existence in Paris, but not a full life..."

Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik

I can't help but think True Beauty will only be found in a Full Life.

Happy New Year!!!

We celebrated Christmas in Montana - it was snowy, cozy, and overall amazing!  This snow couple appeared at the bonfire/sledding party.  At first they were shy and just tried to blend in.

After the snowmobile missed them by mere centimeters (more than once) they were convinced to show themselves more clearly.

Christmas cards are still in progress - but in the meantime - Happy New Year!!!!!

Pre-Holiday Rant

I am not immune to the aggravations of air travel, although most days I can be amused by fellow passengers and general airport absurdness.  There is also the excitement of going places that usually keeps my spirits up.  A few days ago I was flying on an unfamiliar airline with a boarding pass that assigned me to "Group 2".  Though mathematically "Group 2" should be near the front of the line, I suspected by the time I found my seat there would be no room for my carry-on bag.  It was an inconvenience but not the end of the world, and I was not ready to pay an additional fee to upgrade to "Group 1" (just to avoid the hassles of baggage claim).     

On a whim I re-printed my boarding pass at the airport and was re-assigned to “Priority Access”.  Yay!!!  Neither my bag nor I would not suffer from separation anxiety – and I joined the end of the security line with a sense of calm.  At the gate, the pre-boarding announcement was my clue to gather my stuff together.  The boarding process began and the categories were announced in the following order - one at a time…

•         First Class
•         Those Needing Extra Time
•         Those with Small Children
•         Those in the Military
•         Business Class
•          Elite Partners
•         Executive Members
•         Diamond Alliance
•         Platinum Members
•         Sapphire Alliance
•         Gold Members
•         Priority Access

 By this time they had run out of overhead bin room and were checking all carry-on bags.  I reluctantly took my place in the non-linear mob.  I can only assume “Group 1” was after “Priority Access”, but am seriously wondering who would pay extra for this dubious spot in line.  I would not be surprised if those in “Group 3” had to join their carry-on luggage in the baggage compartment.  Hopefully numbers have actual meaning in the cockpits.  (I may have discovered a reason for the November Navigation Troubles:)

Happily Travelling!!!! 

2014 Calendar Page

Introducing this year's Calendar Page...

Due to time constraints (seriously expected from a calendar page) and Phin's positive encouragement, this calendar page was done all electronically.  I have mixed feelings about this as the theme does lend itself to using actual glue, colored pencils, scissors and fun paper scraps.

Favorite Things

Instead of “whiskers on kittens” I would favor “paws without claws”.  Seriously, cat paws are one of my favorite things (even the term “paws” is fun for me to think about).  The paws and coming up with a name is almost enough to make me want to get a cat.  On the whole, however, cats make me uneasy, and I could never acquire one as a companion.  (Probably a good thing since I’m struggling to keep our two house plants alive and we have a fish-only pet policy.)  This does not stop me from dreaming up names such as Sassafrass, Purrrabola, and Mauers.  Perhaps the time has come to get a fictional cat – on a trial basis of course.

Hidden Amusements

It would not be surprizing to discover an octopus at mini-golf, but my imaginative coworker found this sad guy at a regular resort.  I don't know much about golfing, but I predict being trapped on the links would cause consternation for anyone.

No, it was not the sand that got him but the grading contours - perhaps the work of a mischievous engineer!

P.S.  Should I finish creating a fun coloring book from seemingly mundane engineering designs - or is this taking my amusement too far???

Midway through the Paleo Expedition

Hello from the Paleo Expedition where the journey has been an adventure.  Though technically not an official expedition (for one thing the crew did not include a specialized cook -major mistake, and for another we have not left the comforts of our North End home), the following experiences are in my mind comparable to a romantic voyage to parts unknown:   

Restaurant Void:  It is with mild astonishment that I have gone two whole weeks without any restaurant meals.  If this trend continues for the rest of the expedition, I will set a personal record for “not eating out”.  I think the last time I even came close was when I was still living with my parents (and not responsible for providing all of my own meals).  Even as a poor college student, I would buy the $5.00 Domino’s pizza that would set me up for a couple of days (although I’m not sure Domino’s fits under the “restaurant” category).

Sailing on the Five Cs:  I have had to restock my spice rack since cooking has taken over most of my free time.  It is strange that all of my recent purchases begin with C - Cinnamon, Curry, Chile Powder, Cumin, and Cayenne Pepper.  We have not experienced drastic amounts of sea-sickness, although a Curry/Carrot combination did not go over too well. 

Dangerous and Delicious Discovery:  I had vaguely heard of Jicama  and may have eaten it once or twice, but still thought of it as some kind of Jamaican Flower.  However, several sources in Paleo cookbooks called this vegetable a great potato substitute, so I casually chopped one up and placed it in a soup.  It was so yummy that after dinner I did some research on Jicama and learned the leaves and peel are poisonous.  When I casually mentioned my findings to Phin, he immediately began experiencing stomach pains.  I had some doubts on the carefulness of my chopping, so it was with great relief that after more investigation I was able to assure Phin I had not poisoned him.  His relief was short lived when I told him my reasons for knowing with such certainty - ingesting the peel is associated more with death than mild stomach pain.  I do plan to use Jicama more frequently in my cooking, although “Food Safety Phin” is now in charge of the chopping.  (A Jicama chainsaw that could also be used for pineapples would be a handy kitchen appliance.)

The Value of Adrenaline:  The first week was kind of a bummer with headaches, fatigue and general moodiness (I’m not saying who experienced what symptoms).  We discussed the probability that we could survive on a diet of meat, vegetables and fruits, but the fact that it was so difficult made it seem worth it.  We could tell our bodies were in the detox process and that made us eager to get over this phase and experience the benefits of healthy eating.   

Treasure Hunting:  Finding breakfast meats without sugar or soy products was much like a treasure hunt.  It was a happy moment when we discovered a small selection in Whole Foods.  This joy was tempered slightly when we realized we would have to embark on a different kind of treasure hunt to pay for this extremely valuable find, but savoring sausages made this a worthwhile splurge. 

In conclusion, we are surviving and not yet reduced to eating tuna fish out of a can (although in some ways that sounds easier).  I would love to send a postcard to all of you, but so far post offices seem scarce and carrier pigeons have long ago disappeared (bird seed is not encouraged here).  Suffice it to say, we are having a wonderful time and wish you were here. (Well the last part of that statement is true.)

A weekend conversation turned to a month's resolution!

P:  What do you want to do this weekend?

R:  Something fun and exciting.

P:  Can you give me ideas of what activities you would consider to be in that category?

R:  I’ve been waiting all summer to go to The Foreigner and it closes at the end of September.

P:  I hate to break it to you – but it is the middle of October!

R:  What????  Where did September go?  I can clearly remember August.  But what happened to September? 

P:  I don’t know what to tell you.

R:  We have to slow down time – this is getting crazy.

P:  And how do you propose to do that?

R:  Let’s make the next 30 days super slow – I think if we go on a Paleo Diet and I get up every morning at 6:00am the month will creep by!

And that is how I convinced Phin to go on a Paleo Diet with me.  I'll let you know how it worked to slow time down (and make us feel healthier) in 30 days!  At this time I cannot comment on my rash decision to get up at 6:00am everyday...

August in the Alps

Here are some highlights from our trip to the top of Europe (where sadly I did not master the yodel).

Views from the train had us all spellbound.

Mountains were filled with wildflowers including my favorite - the wild bluebells.

Cows in pastures near the top of the mountain made quite a ruckus with their big bells.  

One little cow was able to match the ruckus level without using a big bell.

Another outdoor dining experience with an amazing view.