I'd been playing "I spy" with a little kindergartner on the bus every morning, but he was having a hard time sticking to one object. Too often he'd say something like "I see something pink" and when I gave up (since there was little pink in sight), he'd look around himself to find what he could have meant. So, I was explaining that he had to choose the object first, then the say the color.
Me: First you pick the item and then you say the color.
Leonce: Huh?
Me: You find the thing, and you keep it in your head first. Then you can say "I spy something pink."
Leonce: .... My brain?
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
The Weekend Saga, Part II: The Bad AND the Ugly
After my enourmously smooth flight from Chicago, the lovely Sharon was waiting to pick me up and take me back to my car in St. Louis Park. She casually mentioned that there had been a big storm Saturday night, but I didn't think much of it. It hadn't made the news in Chicago, so it couldn't have been worse than the Hugo tornado last week.
That was, of course, before we saw my car. When I first walked up to it, I immediately saw the four smaller cracks on my front windshield, all on the driver's side. The rubber around the glass had really taken a hard beating and was scratched up, meaning it had probably leaked rain into my car. My head started spinning dollar signs for the replacement of an entire front windshield, but then I noticed some glass on the seat. Strange, the windshield was cracked, but I didn't see it broken in any places. I unlocked the door and threw my purse in and saw, to my dismay, even more glass pieces around. I looked up to glance out the back, and saw the car behind me clear as day - too clear. I had no back window.
It was an absolute mess. The back windshield had not just broken. It had broken into a thousand tiny pieces that littered my car and had let in buckets of rain. Sharon I stood there with our jaws dropped. I wasn't sure if I could drive it like this although my car did start, but I figured as soon as I went above 30 miles an hour, all those glass pieces would go flying out the back and hit the cars behind me. None of the friends I called had or were near their shopvacs, but my brother suggested taking it to a gas station. At the 8th one (!!!!!), they finally had one in working order, so $3 later I had at least vacuumed out all the major glass pieces.
I drove down to Victoria where my brother and his wife currently have three cars (thank you, Jesus, my parents left their car in Minnesota this time instead of Colorad0), so I put mine in their garage, and drove one of the three home to use for this week. The silver lining is that my insurance will cover the damage though I have to get an estimate from them, and with all the claims currently in the Twin Cities from two back-to-back storms, the soonest appointment I got was for Sunday. Oh well. God is providing, as Sharon so firmly knew he would.
That was, of course, before we saw my car. When I first walked up to it, I immediately saw the four smaller cracks on my front windshield, all on the driver's side. The rubber around the glass had really taken a hard beating and was scratched up, meaning it had probably leaked rain into my car. My head started spinning dollar signs for the replacement of an entire front windshield, but then I noticed some glass on the seat. Strange, the windshield was cracked, but I didn't see it broken in any places. I unlocked the door and threw my purse in and saw, to my dismay, even more glass pieces around. I looked up to glance out the back, and saw the car behind me clear as day - too clear. I had no back window.
It was an absolute mess. The back windshield had not just broken. It had broken into a thousand tiny pieces that littered my car and had let in buckets of rain. Sharon I stood there with our jaws dropped. I wasn't sure if I could drive it like this although my car did start, but I figured as soon as I went above 30 miles an hour, all those glass pieces would go flying out the back and hit the cars behind me. None of the friends I called had or were near their shopvacs, but my brother suggested taking it to a gas station. At the 8th one (!!!!!), they finally had one in working order, so $3 later I had at least vacuumed out all the major glass pieces.
I drove down to Victoria where my brother and his wife currently have three cars (thank you, Jesus, my parents left their car in Minnesota this time instead of Colorad0), so I put mine in their garage, and drove one of the three home to use for this week. The silver lining is that my insurance will cover the damage though I have to get an estimate from them, and with all the claims currently in the Twin Cities from two back-to-back storms, the soonest appointment I got was for Sunday. Oh well. God is providing, as Sharon so firmly knew he would.
The Weekend Saga, Part I: The Good
Saturday was wonderful. The air was crisp and clear as I got into my car at 5:30 am and drove down to St. Louis Park where I met up with Sean and Bonny and their moving crew which included long-time friend, Erin, whom I hadn't seen in a year and a half (travesty). With Caribou coffees in hand, we hit the road heading toward Chicago and made pretty good time despite one of the vehicles being a large moving truck. Erin and I had a car all to ourselves, so we gabbed it up; it really took the entire 7 hours to catch up on each other's lives. It felt so good.
The bathroom breaks, lunch, and the huge gas tank on the truck slowed us down enough that it was nearly 4:00 by the time we got to Sean and Bonny's new place, but I was impressed. We had the entire truck unloaded and returned to the rental place by 6:00. Most of us were absolutely drenched, and while the guys set up the big things (TV's, beds, piano, and furniture), Erin, Bonny, and I cleaned and scrubbed practially every surface in the bathroom and kitchen. Brigita had the most fun running from room to room, eating a piece of paper, and then throwing it up. Think she marked her place in the apartment.
By 9:30, we had showered and called it quitz, but we still managed to drag ourselves out for a nice dinner and a small exploration of the neighborhood. I crashed so hard on my comfy air mattress when we got back to the apartment and slept all the way until 9:30 am the next morning. Sunday was just as fun, too. After the leisurely wake-up, Sean and Bonny treated us to brunch before we headed into the city and visited the Field Museum. Anyone who knows me knows what a museum geek I am, so I loved every minute there. A minute too much perhaps, for we left there at 3:00, thinking we'd have plenty of time to get me to my 4:40 flight back to the Twin Cities, but it got a little tight.
Actually, it was the smoothest, best flight I've had in a long time. The airport check-in was just how I like it. We pulled up to the curb at 4:05, walked right up to the counter, got my boarding pass, practically sped through security, walked (never had to run) down the concourse (I'm ALWAYS at the last gate), immediately got in line for my already-boarding flight, sat down, shut the gates, and arrived in Minneapolis 20 minutes ahead of schedule. I think I was in both airports a total of 30 minutes. It doesn't get any better than that!
The bathroom breaks, lunch, and the huge gas tank on the truck slowed us down enough that it was nearly 4:00 by the time we got to Sean and Bonny's new place, but I was impressed. We had the entire truck unloaded and returned to the rental place by 6:00. Most of us were absolutely drenched, and while the guys set up the big things (TV's, beds, piano, and furniture), Erin, Bonny, and I cleaned and scrubbed practially every surface in the bathroom and kitchen. Brigita had the most fun running from room to room, eating a piece of paper, and then throwing it up. Think she marked her place in the apartment.
By 9:30, we had showered and called it quitz, but we still managed to drag ourselves out for a nice dinner and a small exploration of the neighborhood. I crashed so hard on my comfy air mattress when we got back to the apartment and slept all the way until 9:30 am the next morning. Sunday was just as fun, too. After the leisurely wake-up, Sean and Bonny treated us to brunch before we headed into the city and visited the Field Museum. Anyone who knows me knows what a museum geek I am, so I loved every minute there. A minute too much perhaps, for we left there at 3:00, thinking we'd have plenty of time to get me to my 4:40 flight back to the Twin Cities, but it got a little tight.
Actually, it was the smoothest, best flight I've had in a long time. The airport check-in was just how I like it. We pulled up to the curb at 4:05, walked right up to the counter, got my boarding pass, practically sped through security, walked (never had to run) down the concourse (I'm ALWAYS at the last gate), immediately got in line for my already-boarding flight, sat down, shut the gates, and arrived in Minneapolis 20 minutes ahead of schedule. I think I was in both airports a total of 30 minutes. It doesn't get any better than that!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Prince Caspian
Saw the movie Prince Caspian with Sharon this weekend and loved it (as I do pretty much anything Narnia-related). I knew they would change around a lot of things, especially if all the talk was about the epic action and I remembered this particular book in the series being the most character-driven one. For the most part, I thought the additions were all okay and completely conceivable within the framework of the book, so I was pleased.
When it was all said and done and credits were rolling, the scene that stood out to me more than any other was a very simple one. King Peter had just led the good guys into a fight they lost all because he was being stubborn, selfish, and too impatient to wait for Aslan. When he finally begins to realize his own faults and hot-headedness in the whole escapade, the next shot shows him sitting at the feet of a stone monument of the lion, just gazing up at Aslan's face. I was just struck by the humility (finally) of that act and of the truth it conveyed. When you hit rock bottom, the best place to return to is always the feet of the true Savior. It reminded me of Mary in the story of Mary and Martha - and those who know me well know that I am all too much a Martha. Personality-wise, I've come to a place where I'm okay with it, and I admire Martha for many things, not the least of which is her perspective when her brother dies, but there are times I wish I was more like Mary. I wish I would more easily just sit and gaze. I'm too much like Peter, waiting until it's my last option.
"One thing I ask of the Lord:...to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple." (Ps 27:4). Does it get easier with time?
When it was all said and done and credits were rolling, the scene that stood out to me more than any other was a very simple one. King Peter had just led the good guys into a fight they lost all because he was being stubborn, selfish, and too impatient to wait for Aslan. When he finally begins to realize his own faults and hot-headedness in the whole escapade, the next shot shows him sitting at the feet of a stone monument of the lion, just gazing up at Aslan's face. I was just struck by the humility (finally) of that act and of the truth it conveyed. When you hit rock bottom, the best place to return to is always the feet of the true Savior. It reminded me of Mary in the story of Mary and Martha - and those who know me well know that I am all too much a Martha. Personality-wise, I've come to a place where I'm okay with it, and I admire Martha for many things, not the least of which is her perspective when her brother dies, but there are times I wish I was more like Mary. I wish I would more easily just sit and gaze. I'm too much like Peter, waiting until it's my last option.
"One thing I ask of the Lord:...to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple." (Ps 27:4). Does it get easier with time?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
My students
I now get to post cute little kid comments, too. At work on Friday, we'd just finished math time, and I'd specifically been working with Jessie on counting, when it was choice time for them. Jessie bounded over to the other three kids who were already emptying the fish game onto the carpet. John announced in a loud voice, "I'm first" and was quickly followed by Terry's "I'm second." Anna jumped up, "I'm third!" Not one to be daunted, Jessie got in line and excitedly proclaimed, "Then I'm fifth!"
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
the Future
It would appear things are falling into place. Ecuador looks more and more sure; I got a job to tie me over to my Israel trip; Israel is going to rock; and my missions application passed Round 1, so I now I can go for interviews. Here's my hectic schedule for the next year:
now: work at Hancock Elementary until June 5
June 12: head to Colorado for interviews at WorldVenture Headquarters
June 21: go to Israel!!! Participate at an archaeological site for a week, then take a class in Jerusalem
July 13: go home to Austria for a week (I don't know when the last time was that I was there in the summer)
July 21: return to Minnesota, find work
mid-Sep: go to Ecuador to work for Northwestern's branch campus for 5 months
mid-March: return to Minnesota, start support raising
No doubt I would appreciate prayer for any and all of this. Several of those things fell into my lap completely unexpected and uplanned, so I don't know what God is planning.
now: work at Hancock Elementary until June 5
June 12: head to Colorado for interviews at WorldVenture Headquarters
June 21: go to Israel!!! Participate at an archaeological site for a week, then take a class in Jerusalem
July 13: go home to Austria for a week (I don't know when the last time was that I was there in the summer)
July 21: return to Minnesota, find work
mid-Sep: go to Ecuador to work for Northwestern's branch campus for 5 months
mid-March: return to Minnesota, start support raising
No doubt I would appreciate prayer for any and all of this. Several of those things fell into my lap completely unexpected and uplanned, so I don't know what God is planning.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Mom?
Yesterday, when I was at a local elementary school applying for a temporary job, the nice lady showing me around turned during a lull in a conversation and asked, "So, how many kids do you have?" Not "do you have kids?" Not even "are you married?" It was slightly awkward to have to say "none." What precisely made her assume I'm a mom?
Then, tonight at Kohl's, the friendly gentleman at the cash register packed up my purchases, handed me the back, and said with a genuine smile, "Happy Mother's Day, ma'am." Again, my heart did a little flutter, though this time it may have also been with a blush, for I was after all buying sexy lingerie for my roommate's shower tomorrow. Did he think I was going to wear it this weekend? (I'm definitely no size 6.) And since when am I a "ma'am" anyway?
Must be the mom bag I lug around with me. Maybe I need a new purse.
Then, tonight at Kohl's, the friendly gentleman at the cash register packed up my purchases, handed me the back, and said with a genuine smile, "Happy Mother's Day, ma'am." Again, my heart did a little flutter, though this time it may have also been with a blush, for I was after all buying sexy lingerie for my roommate's shower tomorrow. Did he think I was going to wear it this weekend? (I'm definitely no size 6.) And since when am I a "ma'am" anyway?
Must be the mom bag I lug around with me. Maybe I need a new purse.
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