Wednesday, September 7, 2011

ask and ask and ask again, and ye shall receive

This here sweet girl has been helping me plan weekly menus, and although she has been consistent with her request to have
chicken pot pie
added to the repertoire, a steady administrative veto has prevented the fulfillment of her wish.  This week, we made it happen.
One happy consumer:
 Her personalized pie:
 the gathering
 left-overs
 And this here shot is just for ME.
A little dessert, if you will.
Mmmm, MMMMM!!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

In Panama, the son shines bright


An excerpt [and observation] from Yonder's letter dated 9-5-2011:
"Lots of Sun today! We got up at 4:30am to go to a mountain view and hung around there for awhile. Then we went to a beach that was very pretty, but not really too exciting since missionaries can't swim... I did realize one big thing today about personal hobbies and passions. Anyone that knows me knows that I love anything to do with the outdoors, especially mountains, hiking and exploring. Well, you´d think that this type of p-day would be a get-away or some retreat from all the weekly problems; a time to really enjoy something I loved. But for some reason, I just wasn't getting the same thrill of being up on that mountain, looking out in the jungle and valley. And it was sweet! I realized that as a missionary I have a calling, a calling which really makes up who I am. And I take this as a good sign, because my personal likes and desires seem to be hidden away and currently open is the preocupation of the work. I'm sure it'll all come back once I leave Panama..."

Monday, September 5, 2011

If not for the courage of the fearless crew...

When we set up camp this weekend, it was HOT.  There wasn't much of a breeze, and I never thought to close the tent because frankly, I was more interested in ventilation than privacy (in the middle of the afternoon).  However, when the sun went down (and the bugs came out), closing the door of the tent became more of a priority.  It was then I discovered: that at some point during the last few uses of our tent (by a group of teenage boys in the woods, on a beach and in someone's backyard) the zipper had malfunctioned.
Thank goodness for the Fabulous Dubster, who sent us off with some rain ponchos in case the weather became inclement, which in Vermont it is known to do; and also for my sister-in-law, who packed a bag of clothespins.
and to the list of all things fantastic,
we add that this is also where we spent our 
last weekend of summer:
It really is our summer home-away-from-home.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Sing it!

Camp JOSEPH, WE.LOVE.YOU!!!
Can you see it?
(the LOVE, I mean)

Seen in South Royalton, Vermont

The White River came right up and over Route 14 and flooded MANY businesses and homes along our route to Camp Joseph.  What was left was a muddy, washed-out, debris-laden mess.  It was humbling to see. I really loved the fighting spirit of this sentiment.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

In the Sea there are Crocodiles

Boy, this was GOOD.
I lingered over breakfast this morning, so I could finish the last twenty or so pages. Then I had to sit a little longer to be able to swallow the big lump of emotion in my throat when I was done.
This is a novel based entirely on the true story of ten year old Enaiatollah Akbari from Afghanistan who wakes up in a strange place in a different country, to discover that he has been abandoned by his mother.  Thus, at ten, and very much alone, he begins his journey to survive.  The story is a frightening account of how a young boy makes his way in unfamiliar places, remembering what his mother taught him and recognizing good along the way.  I especially appreciated that the story was presented in Enaiatollah's voice, as many ugly and unthinkable things were made to feel somehow less hard; as if they were being discovered for the first time, through the eyes of an innocent boy.  I loved that the author was so taken by Enaiatollah's story.  He inserts his own voice periodically into the tale; recording bits of their conversations together, as if to emphasize the amazing things this boy has been through and overcome.  I was silently cheering and hoping for the best during the two quick days that I spent reading, but consoled myself (when I got worried) by remembering that he makes it.  It is his story, afterall.
The Italian author, Fabio Geda, meets Enaiatollah at a book presentation where he was speaking about his first novel, a story about a Romanian boy's life as an immigrant in Italy.  Enaiatollah approaches Geda and says that he'd had a similar experience.  In the Sea there are Crocodiles is the re-telling of Enaiatollah's story exactly as he tells it to Geda.  And it has been beautifully translated into English, which I am grateful for.  This goes right to the top of my favorites list for 2011.  
I found the book at the library; I plucked it off the shelf purely because the cover art intrigued me.  I hope your library has a copy too.