My New Mug

Today has been pretty good! Zack and I met with our  new service group for the first time this morning. We're now at the Galloways' home, and Neisha and the McOmbers go there too, so that should be pretty fun. I went on a return visit in Fircrest and had a really awesome mini doorstep study out of the Truth tract with a 9th grader named Elizabeth who could not be sweeter. She said she would find her Bible and read the tract and highlight things for next Saturday when I come back. I was like, "That sounds excellent!" And then I went on another doorstep study with Neisha, and that lady said she would like to start coming to the meetings. So we were both pretty happy.

At Starbucks, I finally found the Perfect Mug. I have been on a quest ever since I broke the Hello Cupcake mug months and months ago. I have a really cool Eddie Bauer mug that's yellow with a butterfly on it, but it can't go in the microwave. And I have the one we bought in a gift shop at the Grand Canyon on our honeymoon, but it has a crack in it and I really really don't want it to break. So I try not to use it much. I knew I needed a replacement, but since we don't have a lot of room in our cupboards for a huge mug collection, I have to be discriminating. I didn't want to buy just any old mug; it had to be The One. So I've had my eye out whenever I go shopping.

Today, on service break at Starbucks, I found it!  Here's a picture:

I really love the colors (it's a nice greeny-yellow inside), and because the design reminds me of picking blueberries. When my family first moved to this area from Spokane over ten years ago now, the apartment where we were living was right next to an ancient abandoned blueberry orchard. That fall, Tate and I went exploring down the tunnels between the bushes, which over the decades have grown up into trees. At one point, we got lost, and I remember running back and forth up and down the tunnels as the evening light faded, trying to find our way out. Over the next three weeks we picked buckets of blueberries which I made into pies, syrup, or jam, or sometimes we just ate them fresh. I remember Tate reading aloud to me one afternoon when he didn't feel like picking. The book was a biography of Louis Braille, and though I can remember very little of it now, I remember being fascinated by the story, and being glad that Tate wanted to read it to me, because it wasn't a book I'd likely have picked up on my own.

Over the years, I've missed a few blueberry seasons, but Tate and I have tried to go every September. I love the peacefulness of it down there in the shade, with the little birds rustling around and the wind blowing in the leaves. I know I'll think of it when I look at my new mug, and that makes me happy.

I Go Back to the House for a Book

  I turn around on the gravel and go back to the house for a book, something to read at the doctor's office, and while I am inside, running the finger of inquisition along a shelf, another me that did not bother to go back to the house for a book heads out on his own, rolls down the driveway, and swings left toward town, a ghost in his ghost car, another knot in the string of time, a good three minutes ahead of me — a spacing that will now continue for the rest of my life.
- Billy Collins

I was introduced to Billy Collins by this post on Ishi's blog. I looked for more of his poetry online, and found this one fascinating. I think about this sort of thing all the time - the tiny choices we make and the potential of vast, unimaginable repercussions.

I was thinking about it a few days ago, remembering a time out in service when i was walking door to door with a friend. We were giving out Memorial invitations, I think, covering territory after territory on a mild, sunny afternoon. This friend of mine, who has lived through tragedies I can't even imagine, was telling me her life story as we strolled along. 

I noticed as we walked into a culdisac that an older gentleman on the other side of the street had come out of his house and was preparing to get into his truck and drive away. I thought about crossing the road and saying hello, and handing him an invitation. But the thought made me a little nervous, so I decided not to bother. I'd just wait till we got around to his house, and if his wife was home, I'd leave it with her. Otherwise, I'd tuck it under the mat. 

When we eventually got around to his house, the front yard and patio were decorated with all sorts of little souvenirs from around the world. Little hanging signs and pieces of colorful outdoor art that told of trips to places like Germany, Portugal, and Argentina. Nobody was home, so my friend and I spent a couple of minutes looking at the souvenirs and talking about how we wished we could travel that much. I left an invitation under the mat, and wished I would have spoken to the man. He seemed like he was probably an interesting person.

A month or two later, I was back in that same cul-de-sac, this time on a return visit with another sister. She pulled into the driveway of that same house with something to leave with the woman who lived there. I immediately recognized the souvenirs on the patio. I must have said something about them, because the sister started telling me all about the couple, how they were in their 50s and loved to travel together. They had just taken their last vacation down to Mexico, and the husband had gone swimming in the ocean one afternoon, and had drowned.

I was stunned. I immediately flashed back to that afternoon when I saw him getting into his truck, and my decision not to walk across the road. I'd thought to myself that there would be other opportunities. I was reluctant to interrupt my friend and her story, and I was nervous about edging out of my comfort zone. So I let it go.

It's not like I think that If I'd handed him an invitation, things would have altered so much that he wouldn't have gone swimming that afternoon in dangerous water. But who knows? Who knows what else might have changed? That might have been the last time he had an opportunity to hear the good news.
I think about it sometimes, and I just feel terrible.

*Sigh of Relief*

Finally finished chapter 44, about five minutes ago. I can't believe how hard it was to write those last six or so pages. Writing is like any other exercise - if you let it slide, you lose your edge. I'm definitely not as quick as I used to be. Getting my thoughts in order today just felt so hard. I'm too tired right now to have any sort of perspective, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see what I think of the finished product. But I pretty much got all the characters where I wanted them to be at this point in the story, so I'm happy with myself.

Ugh, I hate the feeling of sitting on the couch for hours, though. And I think - no, I know - I ate too much dinner. It was just too good, and my mind was elsewhere, split halfway between the episode of Outsourced we were watching and the chapter I had not yet finished.

I really love my characters. The longer I spend writing this book, the more they come to be like people I know. I'm going to miss them when the story ends. I'm leaving it open-ended for a sequel, but I think I might need to take a break in between, and write something else for a bit of a breather. Adventure stories are hard work, I tell you.

Zack is in the office, watching something on his computer and laughing and I want to go see what it is. So I guess that's all for now.

Hello Again, Blog

Today was pretty good. Bright and early (well, 9:30-ish) my brother came to visit me. We haven't hung out in a while, so it felt good to catch up. Originally the plan was to go out in service, but Zack has been sick with flu all week and I woke up not feeling all that well, so Tate and I ended up staying at home, which was relaxing and nice.

Zack had left some of his camera gear lying out on the coffee table. Tate picked it up, and I ended up giving him an impromptu photography lesson, which was quite fun. Afterward I heated up some vegetable soup for lunch, and then gave myself a facial, and talked Tate into getting one too! I love my brother - he is so easy going. He spent about half an hour showing me some of his favorite Youtube videos while wearing a pore cleansing mask.

Speaking of Youtube, the other day my mom and I went shopping for a video camera for my dad, who is soon to launch his own Youtube channel, telling stories about his life in Africa. We ended up getting him the latest Flip HD. My dad has been trying it out, but apparently it leaves something to be desired, so it looks like we'll be doing some more shopping. This does not bother me at all; I love shopping for electronics :)

After lunch, Tate posed for me while I did some sketches for an art project. We were listening to Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole, Book 1, which was quite engrossing. I really love adventurous, imaginative stories like that. It makes me itch to get writing. I'm on chapter 44 of my current yet-to-be-titled novel. The end is in sight! I intend to finish the chapter tomorrow. I'd really love to do Nanowrimo this year, but since I haven't yet finished last year's novel, nor do I have any new plots up my sleeve, it seems pretty much like wishful thinking at this point. But Nanowrimo is soooo fun that I can't seem to resign myself to missing it. So I guess we'll see.

In other news, we got our first box of produce from Terra Organics today. I was so excited to open it, and was immediately intrigued by the goodies inside - bright yellow string beans, purple potatoes, thin hook-shaped eggplants, a container of "kiwi berries,"etc etc. I wanted to make something yummy for dinner, but didn't know where to begin. After browsing recipes online for a while, I decided to try the eggplant first. I roasted them in the oven with a light coating of olive oil, and when I took them out after twenty minutes, they smelled sooo good, I couldn't believe it. I've never been a fan of eggplant, but as I was peeling the skins off I couldn't stop bending over to inhale the steam. I chopped them and tossed them in a skillet with some caramelizing onions, then later added eggs and a little shredded cheese for a scramble. It was a hit - even Pongo loved it! For desert I made the honey-fried fig recipe that came in the newsletter. We ate them with vanilla yogurt, but I think they might have been better on their own.

So far, I have to say the produce is definitely worth the price. And it feels good to be supporting local family-owned organic farms. I'm sure I will have more to say about this in future posts, as it has been a topic of discussion around here of late.

After dinner, Family Worship. We took turns choosing articles from the current magazines to read and discuss. Very relaxing and enjoyable.

And now, Pilates. Then, bed.

Linda B., Healthy Food, etc.

Yesterday I went out in service from 7:30 to 2:30. I worked with Ishi; her congregation is doing their invitation campaign, which always promises a good time, so I helped with that. Linda B. was in our group. Linda is in her late forties (I'm guessing), one of those women who always look impeccable - makeup done, every blonde hair in place. I swear she must have one of those photographic minds. She reads voraciously and knows more than I do about every subject under the sun. She told me, and this is pretty cool, that there is only one molecule's difference between chlorophyll and hemoglobin. Hemoglobin has iron, which makes it red, while chlorophyll has magnesium, which makes it green. So it's no wonder we're supposed to eat our veggies! It also explains all those crazy people drinking wheat grass juice. I always thought it was some bizarre fad for vegans and health nuts, so they can feel superior to the rest of us. Apparently, though, it's a "blood builder."

I've never asked, but I think maybe it's Linda who started the healthy lunch fad in the Narrows congregation. For lunch yesterday she brought: a chicken and veggie wrap, a zip-lock bag of almonds, and one of fresh blueberries. My sister brought: lettuce wraps: tomato, avocado, and bacon. I brought: a gladlock box with a mix of brown rice, cubed skinless chicken breast, and Asian vegetable medley. We ate outside at the picnic bench, in the cool breeze and blinding sun. Linda complemented Ishi and me on our healthy choices, and I felt proud of myself. Just like in elementary school when my teacher would say something nice about how I always colored inside the lines.

Josie Dunn showed up and gave me a memento she picked up in California, at America's first-ever Punjabi Special Assembly Day. The memento is a glossy photo of a woodland with bluebells, and there's a scripture on it, "Keep watching your ministry, that you fulfill it." It's kind of like a giant post card. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but I thought it was nice that she gave it to me. Josie is cool. She's white and black and Mexican, a mix which means she looks ambiguous enough to totally pass for Punjabi. In the gas stations where the Punjabis work, she can joke with them and it sounds pretty cool, although I have no idea what she's saying.

Today I am home, getting ready for our trip to Spokane. We leave tomorrow, one o' clock-ish. There's mountains of laundry, and since I want to leave the house spic-and-span, there's also floors to scrub, etc.

I tried to make this post somewhat interesting. Tried and failed, I fear. Agh.

:(

So today hasn't been very interesting yet. I went out in service this morning, which was ok. Kind of a ho-hum day. I talked to one man and he said please don't ever come back (or words to that effect - I'm giving the polite version), so I added him to the Do Not Call list. Not my favorite thing to do.

Now I'm home, and making roasted veggies and brown rice for lunch. I am so on-again/off-again with the healthy living that it is kind of frustrating at times. I want to be super good about it, one of those people who know 50 different tofu recipes and think carob brownies are just as good as the real thing. I want to be the kind of girl who does exercise first thing every morning just to enjoy the kick start to the day. I would like to lose weight, have more energy, and enjoy shopping for clothes. I would really like all of those things. If I could only get there.

Well. Roasted veggies and brown rice are a start.

I am kinda down today. I try to avoid the news usually, because it is so bad and always getting worse, but you can't help hearing about things, sometimes. Last week there was a shooting at Wal-Mart. My local Wal-Mart, where I just went in for an eye exam and bought some cute new glasses. Last Tuesday night after the meeting people were talking about it - Jamie Eaton works in a bank, and they had gone on lockdown that afternoon. Two men entered the store just as a Loomis driver was leaving with a bag of cash from the store office. One of the men shot the guard in the head, the other one grabbed the cash, and they ran off. The guard was killed instantly, and the same bullet hit another man who was carrying a small child. The other man is ok.

I am always appalled when something like this happens, but the fact that it was right here in my neighborhood really distresses me. The cruelty of it, the callous disregard for someone's life. They didn't even give the guy a chance to hand over the money. They just killed him. I read in the newspaper it was $60,000 in cash. The price of someone's life.

I was praying to Jehovah that the police would catch those guys, because I really wanted them to face justice for what they did. Thankfully, it didn't take long. The police caught up with them the following afternoon. They had been eating out at Red Lobster, shopping, and staying at a Motel 6. The police also arrested the driver of the getaway car, as well as a female Wal-Mart employee, one of the store managers who had planned the whole thing. It turns out, the guy who drove the car was one of Bryson's return visits. Bryson saw his name and photo in the newspaper and couldn't believe it. He said the guy had always been friendly, and had a bunch of kids.

I am just so sick over this. The police asked the guy with the gun how he would have felt if he'd gotten away with it. He said, "Sad, but I would have gotten over it because of the money." Well, he doesn't have the money now. So does that mean he'll never get over it? I wish that were true. I wish he would spend the rest of his life feeling sorry, not just because he got caught, but because of what he did.

Anyway I will stop now. I just wanted to get all that out. It's been bothering me for a while. We need the Kingdom so badly. I can't wait for the day when Jehovah will step in and put an end to crime, an end to murder. I really look forward to that day.

Blogger Guilt

I realized today that I have been avoiding my blog out of guilt. Guilt over never having done a write-up of my New York trip. And I also realized that I sometimes hate doing write-ups of vacations. I don't know why. I just don't like to do it. And then, of course, I feel guilty because I realize that my memory of the trip will lose all it's super sharp clarity, and it will slowy fade away to just a few shapshots in my mind, and so I feel guilt for not capturing it, and putting down every detail in writing, to remember forever.

But I just don't want to do it. I don't know why. But there you go.

And so I am now officially giving myself permission to go on with this blog, business as usual, and not feel hampered by the fact that I never really wrote about my New York trip. It was great, and I have lots more photos than the few I posted here, and those will just have to be enough.

The End