A memory

After what felt like a very long nine-and-half-weeks in the Missionary Training center, I remember stepping off the plane in Cali, Colombia in early February of 1987 to complete my 18 month assignment as a missionary.  It was really warm--and breezy and humid, which was a bit of a shock, having come from a North American winter-y climate just hours before.  I felt a little awkward, climbing down the steps from the plane and onto the tarmac.  The realization that I had just entered a new culture and my new life was just as shocking as breathing in the warmth and humidity.  I knew that the perspiration beading on my upper lip and forehead was not from heat, but rather, nerves and a hard lump of anxiety:  Was I ready?  Would I be the kind of missionary that I pictured in my mind, confidently speaking a new language and sharing the gospel without hesitation or trepidation?  I already knew the pink linen suit I was wearing, wrinkly from travel was not going to cut it.  I felt a surge of relief when I saw my mission president, flanked by two young assistants, salute a brief hello through the glass customs window that separated us.  That relief washed quickly into humiliation as my over-packed suitcases exploded with all manner of un-packaged soaps, razors and feminine hygiene products at the touch of the customs agent's finger to the release on the suitcase I had closed the day before (using my full weight and a part of my companion's as well).  I saw the President shake his head, and later as he was driving the car mutter under his breath something like "when are they going to start telling these missionaries that we're not living in a third-world country down here?"  We were off to a great start--I could just feel it.  The rest of my first afternoon/evening and the next day are kind of foggy now.  I remember waking in the plush mission home to Sister Mickelson (my mission president's wife) sitting on my bed, telling me I could stay in shape by doing sit-ups right in my bed before I even got up.  (huh?)  And then probably some breakfast and instructions followed by the picture to prove to my parents that I had arrived, before they fed me to the wolves sent me off with my non-English-speaking Colombian companion who had a heart of stone.

Breakfast dessert this morning

was a DELIGHTFUL walk to the cemetery and back.
And look what I found?  They were trodden upon, yet still speaking to me:
"Hello!! Look at us--we're the preview of what's coming!"
I scanned them to share the gloriousness of early Fall with you.

Circa 1978: The photographer who managed to coax a smile out of ONE of us -or- What in the world is going on behind the camera?!??

the birthday wish.

If you've had any experience navigating a large family schedule, you'll have sympathy when you hear that we really couldn't fit a family birthday party into the calendar on the actual day of the birthday.  The challenge here, was to make the birthday girl feel special despite the fact that we were not actually stopping to celebrate her birthday ON her birthday.  We decided to make it a Birthday-Weekend-Extravaganza!  Some good points included thinking and expressing fond birthday thoughts for several consecutive days, as opposed to one.  We have enjoyed happy birthday decorations much longer than we might have, and also, we decided to spread-out the present love.  She got some presents on one day, some more on the second day, and woke up to a couple of surprises on the morning of the big day.  We ended up having her birthday dinner and cake on Saturday, which was the pinnacle of a VERY busy day for all family members... an ACT exam, three soccer games, a trip to the airport, a BBQ with friends and other Saturday activities chores.  I mention that, because dinner seemed a trifle more rowdy than usual--no chairs tipped over, no food flying, but there was the usual raucous behavior and then maybe the kids were taking it up just a tiny notch.  You may be disappointed to learn that there was some burping going on--I'll just tell you, it's the culture here.  Not that it's adopted or accepted by everyone, it just happens and we all know it... as the mother, I do expect a polite "excuse me" at the very least (the necessity of which has been up for debate more than once).  SO, the birthday girl let escape a pretty hearty burp at the dinner table, and my response was a you-should-know-better-sideways-glance followed by "Have you ever heard me do that at the table?" in a you-should-know-better-tone to which she responded-
"Mom; that will be my birthday wish.
That YOU will burp at the dinner table."

It's BIRTHDAY time!

From little Princess

and little darling

to Young Woman!

Happy 12th Birthday!

XO

The time is now

Good MORNING Seminary students!

Another year of early mornings has begun.

XO

Having girls