Tales of a Transient Drifter

Walking In A Winter Wonderland Part 2

2012-01-30T08:44:00.000-08:00

I'm really having trouble trying to decide if I should post all these great pictures in one post, or break it up into two. There's just so much good stuff in here, but I don't want to overload a single post. We'll see... Like I said, I took this great walk last week, and was definitely snap happy. The best part was that so many of the pictures turned out looking good in my own personal opinion. I know all sorts of people swear by having the right camera. Well, let me just say that my little Olympus that I bought in Hong Kong 8 years ago, still does the trick for me. Plus, it fits in my pocket. And, it has survived being dropped and visiting sub freezing temperatures on multiple occasions, so I really can't complain. Sure, it gets grainy when the lighting isn't right, and there is only one lens, and the effects are limited, but when I snap a moment of brilliance, it turns out and that makes me smile :)

Again, an apology for if these paragraphs all get smashed together. I promise I pushed return and added an extra line for space, but this program has been idiotic for the past month or so, and continues to push it all together in a hard to manage mass. Perhaps they're hinting that I would write shorter blog posts so as not to intimidate people. Who knows, but it does bug me, and I want people to be aware that I still know how to properly construct a paragraph. End Vent.

After walking around Usovice for a while, I took a turn to steeper trails and made my way up into the woods. I started out walking through a little park that houses a lovely spring. It was currently closed, but still looks sweet at the end of the trail.

I was feeling adventurous and decided to follow the signs. I've walked this way several times in normal weather, but the snow was about to get extreme.

I did find one spring still open along the way. There was an assortment of plastic cups sitting there, but I opted just to take photos and to leave the funky tasting, and naturally very healthy, water for someone else to enjoy.

I wish you could see how the water literally bubbles up here. It's hard to tell from the pictures, except for the expanding circles, but this spring produces three liters a minute, so that's quite a lot of water passing through.

At the top of the stairs leading away from the spring I walked through this lovely snowy meadow. I didn't bring a measuring stick, but I would say there was at least a foot and a half of snow up there. A lot more than down in town.

The trail came out up near the Boheminium park which I think is closed at this time of year, and also near a little enclosure where they have some unusual deer. They were pretty far away, so I climbed up the tower to get a peek at them. The snow on the stairs was deep, and the climb was steep, but I was up for it :)

I was still determined to reach the Rozhledna Hamelika, which is a nifty observation tower, so I kept on going, until I heard random music playing in the air. I had hiked this way plenty of times in the summer, but never when the ski slope was actually open. Oops. So I had to do a little improvising to skirt around the slope. I'm sure the skiers thought I looked crazy, but eventually I made it around and at last reached the object of my hike.

I did actually climb to the top, but it was fairly hard to get a good picture due to the low hanging snow clouds that kept sending down little flurries along the way. I then proceeded past a place that makes me sad. Back in its heyday, Marianske Lazne was very popular with tourists from around the world, who made the pilgrimage here to care for their health. As a part of their cure, they would walk along the magnificent trails, and take in the fresh air and lovely views. In order to make the whole experience even more romantic (as Anne Shirley would no doubt find it) they built lovely hotels in the woods with little cafe's where the seekers could find a good cup of coffee and a spectacular view. Most of these places are now closed, including some of the incredible hotels in the town itself. Makes me longer for those "Golden Days" of yore.

All right, I've decided to leave myself up amongst the trees for now, and save the city pictures for my next post. Imagine me sitting at the old cafe and warming up after my freezing walk, and come back for more soon :)

(Oh, and I just might have figured out the paragraph issue. They seem to have added a new options bar to assist me after I sent feedback saying the new program was driving me crazy. Here's to hope!)

A Walk Around Usovice

2012-01-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

I took a walk a couple of days ago, and ended up with so many great pictures that I have decided to break it into several posts rather than throwing them all out in one go. We'll start right here, basically in my back yard, in the area of Usovice. I'm not sure how all the exact distinction lines run. Our address is Marianske Lazne, but this area is called Usovice (pronounced Ush-o-vits-eh, sorry I don't have any haceks on my computer to make it diacritically correct). Perhaps at some stage, in an era long gone, this was a separate town, but it all just blends together at this point.Anyhow, I wanted to get more exercise, and enjoy a day when the snow was fresh and fluffy, rather than nasty slushy soupy muck, so I hiked all over the place. My first area of observation was the Usovice church. As you can see by the date over the door, it's been around a while.

I've never actually been inside this church, but the views from the outside are lovely, especially in the snow.

How cool to have a little church like this just a short walk away. If there hadn't been quite so much snow I would have sat on this bench to just enjoy the solitude for a while.

Instead, I continued my walk down by the fence.

I made my way up a little hill and passed under this old bridge.

Then turned back to check the trail signs. The trails in Czech are well marked with these colorful painted squares. I heard once that there was a special society that goes around and keeps them fresh, but that most of the people in it are getting older and they're having trouble getting enough young people to keep things going. How true this is, I have no real way of knowing, but it's a sad thought to me.

I headed briefly back in the direction of home, and stopped to check out the fountain. I was really surprised to find it running, because all the other outdoor fountains I know of have been sealed up for the winter.

I didn't record the wet side quite as well as I would have liked because it was just a bit too wet, not to mention cold. This is where I'll end this part of the tour. Stay tuned as I head up into the mountains where the snow got really deep...

What a Wonderful Weekend With the Wendels!

2012-01-24T11:51:00.000-08:00

Subtitle: The joys of Great Coffee and Cuddles with Cuties :)After three years (hard to believe it could possibly have been so long ago) I finally had a chance to visit with the Wendel family again. They had to move back to the US for a while, so I missed out on seeing them my last year here, but they have been back in Czech since early summer or so last year, and were good and prepared for visitors. The fat squishy baby I enjoyed cuddling with the last time I hung out with them now prefers sword fighting and keeping his toys away from his younger sister. He has been replaced as the baby times two, but maintains the opinion that he should still have his fair share of time in center of attention land.I headed out of Marianske Lazne on Friday morning, and enjoyed the nice long train ride. There is just something about the train that speaks of foreign lands and promises of interesting sights to me. I must confess, I'm reading Anne of Avonlea right now and it has definitely affected me to a certain extent. I'll have to watch that I don't get too flowery as I work on my book editing process. I'll just have to leave it for the blog. Anyhow, my heart has been craving artsy-ness, and the train provided me some chances to play.

I arrived in Ceske Budejovice with no problems, and was happy to meet with my fabulous family of friends once again. There are now six children in their family: Erica 8, Claire 7, Elisha almost 6, Gavin 4, Adelaide 1 1/2, and Jonas 7 months. Yes, that spells busy. The oldest two girls are in Czech school for part of the day now, so they were there at the station with their dad to pick me up. We headed back to the house where I was instantly greeted by little Adelaide. Can we say, spunky? That girl's got plenty of sparkle, and was eager to have someone new to tote her around and do her bidding. I was instantly smitten.

And then there was the sweet squishy baby Jonas. Seriously, so sweet. While he did have a propensity for regurgitation, I was more than willing to sacrifice a sweater or two to the laundry.

Gavin the Brave (better known by his chosen name of Darth Vader) is also quite a little poser. He was more than happy to smile for the camera. Just don't let little sister touch his dinosaurs or his swords or try to join in the game :)

Claire was shy, and all the pictures I tried to get of her ended up blurry, and Elisha was sick quite a bit, so he wasn't around a whole lot. It's amazing how when you just go for a normal visit it's easy to miss out on photo ops, but I did get at least one of Erica working on her Mario game. She's quite obsessed with Mario, and created 9 levels of Mario world. She and I played her game at least 4 times. Let me tell you, games created by 8 year olds are pretty fascinating :)

This was taken on my last morning there, when the girls were already at school, but I got the rest of the crew in it.

Besides all the great kid time, I also really enjoyed having the chance to visit with Cari and Steve. They're just so great and relaxed. It might seem hard to imagine how hanging out in a little house with 6 kids could be relaxing, but their parenting style is just so easy in a comforting kind of way. Sure, there was occasional screaming, not to mention a little whining, and a dose of instigation, but there was no animosity in any of the interactions. It was great to share about my mixed cultural life, and to learn about the ups and downs of their ministry and life in the Czech Republic as well. Just all kinds of blessings. Not to mention the amazing coffee. Wow. Big shout out of thanks for that one. I've been drinking lots of instant cappuccinos around here, and they just don't compare. (sigh)The time flew by quickly. The kids usually started waking up around 5 AM, which meant they went to bed around 7:30 or 8, leaving me with plenty of time to catch up on some movies in the evening. I got a few phone calls in with Marek, who stayed home to work. While I think the kids might have thought I was there forever, it was over before I knew it, and I was headed back to the station for my return trip.I had about 25 minutes to wait for my train, so I did a quick spin through the nearby part of the city. I only breezed in and out of H & M and didn't quite make it all the way to the old Square, but I got in a couple pictures just to make sure it looked like I was traveling in Czech and not just hanging out in America with an American family.

I had to rush to get back to the train, and somewhere in all of that rush, I had a little mishap. There are many things I love about the Czech Republic. Obviously, I'm quite attached to it's citizens, but there are somethings that just don't compute to my American way of thinking. In the process of walking to the train, my backpack came open. I have no idea when or how, but I do tend to cram it pretty full. When I set it down on the train seat things were about ready to fall out, and I discovered that my little gray Roxy jacket was gone. The entire time I was walking there were people all around me, but no one thought to point out that my bag was open, or to pick up my jacket and hand it to me when it fell out. There was no time to go back and look for it, so I just had to remind myself that it was just a thing, and that I have more than plenty of jackets in my closet to make up for it. (sigh) But I really liked that little jacket, and it did make me sad and frustrated that people here can be so self focused and uncaring. (bigger sigh)Thanks to the lunch and dinner prayers of Elisha, my trip home went well. There was the part where I was delayed for an hour due to electrical difficulties, but at least they noticed there was a problem, and we didn't get into any sort of accident. I made sure to get in a couple shots of Hluboka as we rushed past. It's a really beautiful castle, and there is a great view from the train. Too bad they aren't clearer, but you can at least get a feel.

These next shots are just random ones along the way that I thought turned out rather nicely. They show that bit about how you're just going along and, Whoop!, there's a castle or cathedral, or something cool.

The next one is thanks to the train delay right outside of Plzen.

And last, but certainly not least, I have always enjoyed the view of Stribro when traveling past, whether by train or bus, but have never captured it. At the beginning of this post you can see one blurry shot where I made an attempt, but on the way back I got this little beauty. No filter or doctoring done on this one. It is just purely the effect of a dirty train window on the move.

So, as promised, a healthy dose of pictures and plenty of cuddly baby fun.

When Snow Turns to Soup it's Just Plain Gross!!

2012-01-19T23:11:00.001-08:00

Well, apparently editing has been keeping me plenty busy, seeing as how I've almost missed out on my two blog a week quota. I'm about half way through, so I'm feeling pretty good about things. Sometimes I want to kick myself in the head when I see how many times I use certain phrases. When I was doing edits on Daughter's of the Pond, I kept discovering the phrase "once again." I tried to cut down on that in the original writing round, but in my current book I kept finding how many times I wrote the phrase "a bit," or threw in words like "just" or "that" which are completely unnecessary half of the time. Always a growing process I guess.The thing is, when you're writing blog posts, or e-mails, or journal entries it's okay to let little things like that go. They're part of what makes it all feel quaint or voice like. In a novel, however, you're going to end up with readers taking a tally and maybe wanting to flush your book to get the sound of your voice out of their heads. I'm hoping not to end up in that situation.I haven't really been brutal or anything. My word count has waffled back and forth over about 200 words in each direction, so I feel weeding things out and clarifying when needed. It's also easier in an edit to see the places where you had a great word choice idea, but then forgot that you'd used the same brilliant word two sentences earlier, and threw it in a second time. Oh the joys.Anyhow, I'll keep this brief as I have a train to catch before the end of the hour. The lovely snow that fell yesterday has sadly been rained upon. It started in the evening, and seems to have continued on and off leaving it a sickening slushy slog. I can't say I'm all that excited to walk through it to the station, but I am looking forward to the trip. I get to spend the weekend with some lovely friends in the south of Czech. When I visited them three years ago they had a beautiful fat squishy baby for me to play with, as well as three adorable older children. Since then, their number has climbed to 6 in total, including one who is under a year. Yeah! Can't wait. Will miss the husby, but I'm sure a little cuddle with baby time will keep me from getting depressed :)No doubt there will be some glorious smilling pictures to come.

Weekend Wanderings

2012-01-17T10:17:00.001-08:00

I can imagine that most people who happen upon my little blog would find the idea of a weekend in Germany a grand sort of event. I remember my twenty-ninth birthday when I made my first trip across the border just to add another country to my list. It was the sort of occassion when everything was worth recording. Sitting on the train, which is quite different from a typical Czech train) was an event in and of itself. If you're bored enough to flip back through the pages, I'm sure that in November '07 you can find said pictures.Now, however, I find myself actually having family in Germany. This means that, rather than being a trip designed for exploration and sight seeing, heading across the border means spending time in a little flat full of people. It means hours of sitting at the table chatting while food is being cooked and watching tv. It means games of memory or Skip Bo. It means a set of twins gone wild. In short, these visits are now just another normal part of life.Granted, being able to sit on the futon where we sleep, looking out on the steeple of an old Catholic Church does add to the effect. German architecture is also different than the Czech variety, so you can feel those little cultural differences, not to mention the multiple language overload, but I just don't take so many pictures.All that to say, this post is going to be more a highlighting of events, rather than a photo filled extravaganza. It was quite a long weekend that we spent in the little village of Neunkirchen, Germany. We were driven over on Thursday at speeds that ranged all the way up to 180km, (yes that is more than 100 mph) which reminded me of the hectic ride Crystal and I once took with a random German man in his very fast Mercedes of BMW or whatever. Anyhow, we made it safely and spent the afternoon relaxing and watching a very stressful movie called 172 Hours. It was with Czech dubbing, but it wasn't hard to follow. That also means the title might be different in English, but I'm pretty sure that's right. Then in the late afternoon the house was filled with kids and noise and all that goes along with them.Friday the kids had school again, so the morning was pretty quite. Got to go shopping with the girls in the afternoon which was fun. I've spent enough time in the area now, that going into Weiden was all very familiar. Shopping is always enjoyable, and I got my fill of fresh clean packages, and a variety of products you just can't find in American stores. I had to pick up some Milka with Daim (which is a kind of toffee) because it's just that good.Saturday involved another trip to the ice skating rink. The husband was feeling under the weather and, therefore, avoided the outing. This meant I got to practice my "skills" without so much pressure. I didn't fall down at all, and also managed not to stick close to the wall the whole time. I even had Nathalie make a little video so I could prove to Mark later that progress had been made :) It was nice to feel confident enough that when I watched another lady clearly having her first experience on the ice, I felt like I could show her that it really does get better.On Sunday, we celebrated Nathalie's birthday at a huge swimming pool complex. A few of her friends were there, so the girls were well entertained. Again, Mark wasn't feeling well, so he only swam for the first hour or so, but I still had a chance to enjoy all the different pool varieties. All except the diving pool... There was a lap swimming pool that Mark and I were in for a little while. The water there was around 25C which would be like around 75 or so I think. It was pretty cold in comparison to the other pool that was 30C which felt like a nice warm bath. In tat second pool, there were different areas that bubbled or showered, or did any number of different things. It wasn't very deep, and it was where most people passed the time. It also had a place where you could go into an outdoor swimming pool of the same temperature. Keep in mind that outside it was about -7C which is like 10 or so F. Basically, really cold. It was fun though, and there was a rapids pool there, much faster than the one in Moscow. They also had a giant waterslide that I went down once. It wasn't super fast, but that suits me just fine because it meant no going underwater at the end. They had reserved a party area as well, so we were able to go back and forth and nibble on muffins and pretzels and watch the ice hockey practice going on right outside the window. It was really quite odd to sit there in a swim suit looking at snow and watching ice skaters. Monday morning we headed back hoome and since then things have fallen back to their usual routine. I'm working on the editing process for my novel right now. Trying to make sure everything makes sense and fits together before I seek out the next step. Perhaps it's my propensity to follow rules that makes it hard for me to know how to go about doing things for myself. I remember feeling so frustrated when I had a college degree and no idea what in the world to do with it. It's sort of the same thing now. I've got a book, so what. At least I've got something, now I'll just work hard and hope to figure out the rest.

Caught Without a Camera

2012-01-10T07:37:00.001-08:00

Today witnessed a tragic moment in time. The Transient Drifter was caught without a camera. It's a travesty really. And also quite unsual. I remember one afternoon I went to lunch with some friends in Hong Kong. These friends were not tourists. They were normal Hong Kong residents, as was I at the time. Between the four of us we had at least 5 cameras. Now mind you, this was before people had cameras on their phones. I'm pretty sure they were mostly digital cameras, but still, that's a pretty high average.Today, however, I was left in the lurch. My smart phone is in the US. My iPad was sitting on the charger at home (and I don't generally haul it all over the place because it's a bit too big/nice for that on normal days) and my digital camera? Well, it was in the pocket of another jacket where I had put it when I was trying to get some pictures of a snowy pathway yesterday.Needless to say, I was more than miffed when I went confidently to pull it out of my bag. I ALWAYS have a camera. It's just something I do. It's not like I'm any sort of extreme professional photographer (although I've always dreamed of taking a photography class) but I just love taking pictures and like to be ready when the moment might come.So now that I've shamefacedly confessed to missing the moment, I'll do my best to describe what I should have photographed. The thing is, I know people like blogs to be something they can read quickly at a glance, and don't want to be muddled down with too many words, and since we all know pictures are worth 1,000 they help to keep my average down. This time, however, you're just gonna have to deal with the written variety.One of Mark's best friends works in a restaurant here in Marianske Lazne. We have visited him there several times, including on Christmas Eve, and have had coffee, but never tried the food. Today, however, Aleš treated us to a fantastic meal. He served us lasagna, cut into lovely little circles and topped with a fresh sauce made from pureed garlic, tomato sauce, onions, roasted red peppers, and fresh spices, along with halved cherry tomatoes. The cheese was melted to a nice crust on top, and the italian sausage added a nice flavorful touch to the whole dish. It was lovely and he was all ready to pose right there in the kitchen with it. But, alas and alack, I missed the chance.We ate out in the little glass pavillion overlooking the snowy yard and pond. As Mark pointed out, it felt like we were at some sort of ski resort. Very picturesque, complete with a curious cat that we watched sniffing around and flicking her ears back and forth in the wind. After positively stuffing ourselves with the lasagna, we came inside and were served a "mini cheesecake." There was a delicate buttery graham-crackery crust cup, filled with that luxuriously creamy Czech berry yogurt I talked about before, and drizzled with a raspberry sauce. While there didn't seem to be any of what I would call a traditional cheese cake filling, it still tasted like it was there. Bizarre, I know, but so it was. Just think of all those pretty photo opportunities missed. The plating would have done Robert Irvine or Zdenek Pohlreich proud. (sigh) My apologies to both the readers of this blog as well as to the chef for having no visiual proof except for the fact that I am so full I can hardly move.

Mastering the Art of Czech Cuisine

2012-01-08T10:55:00.001-08:00

Sometimes this blog does come off a bit like a confessional. The truth: when I first moved to the Czech Republic I thought the food was...well...less thatn desirable. It's a very heavy working man's kind of fare. Lots of meat and dumplings and all these piles of cabbage. Then there are the cream sauces. Talk about heavy. The first thing I learned to order was Smaženy Syr, also known as Fried Cheese. I was good with that. Yeah, it's heavy, but there's something about that gooey cheese and crispy breaded crust, not to mention the horrifyingly delicious smear of tatarska (Czech Tartar Sauce) that never fails to delight. Throw in some nice greasy fries, and a slice or two of cucumber and tomatoe, and it's amazingly delicious. I had no trouble telling my students it was my favorite Czech food, although it's sort of like telling people in HK that my favorite food there is Hong Kong style French Toast. I'm still the kind of girl who orders what she knows she likes, because why would I want to pay for something and be disappointed?When you live with a Czech family, however, you have to learn to expand your horizons. There's lots of oil and fat and heavy starches, but when prepared correctly with lots of spices, Czech food actually is quite tasty. This weekend my mom-in-law was free from work, so she set about teaching me a couple of Czech classics. I still can't claim to have them mastered, and I still need some help with the translations, but I did help out and even got my hands dirty every now and then.On Saturday we took on the collossal task of making Svičkova. Roughly translated it means "Candle Sauce." Funny name, but probably this is due to the bright orange color provided by the carrots. The meat and vegetables have to cook for a long time until the meat is tender. I'm thinking it could be translated into a crock pot recipe, but it's just a thought. I was surprised to learn that the sauce is mostly made up of the pureed veggies that were cooked with the meat. They are forced through a flour sifter and then slowly mixed back in with the juice together with cream. I really didn't do anything but watch the process for this one, but if I can get a translation of the recipe, I think having seen it being made will be useful. It was then served with store bought bread dumplings, the sauce and meat, with a dollop of cranberry sauce and a bit of whipped cream as a garnish.Today I learned the art of making potato dumplings. (Note: there is acutally a store here in town that exclusively sells dumplings. Not something you find on every street corner in America for sure. Bread, potato and fruit varieties are in great supply in these parts.) I actually got the hands on experience this time, although the meat was already totally cooked by the time I joined in, I did see a bit of the spinach preparation. It was a slight variation on the classic Czech dish of Knedlo, vepro, zelo. The original being served wtih cabbage instead of spinach. I was quite pleased with the result of my potato dumpling making experience, and was likewise excessively full.I don't think I'm quite ready to open a Czech Kitchen in America just yet, but I'm hopint that if I can at least figure out some of the basics I'll be able to make my husband happy every now and again with a taste of home. I would really like to learn how to make the Czech Potato salad, but everyone tells me that American Mayo isn't as good as the Czech variety, and therefore it just won't taste the same. Who knows?For now I'll just keep plugging along. Hard to believe we're already almost half way through our time here. I still have lots of things I'd like to do, and people I'd like to see, so hopefully there will be more entertaining posts to come. The truth is, just like life in America, when you're here all the time life in any country is just life. It only seems more exotic when seen as something foreign. Today, however, was about changing sheets and cooking lunch. But I'm still hoping for a little of that feeling of adventure that makes traveling so grand.

Tri králové (three kings)

2012-01-07T07:01:00.001-08:00

Yesterday (January 6) is the day traditionally observed as Three Kings Day. This would be when the three wise men arrived with their gifts to bring the baby Jesus. While gifts are not exchanged, I have been told that people dressed up as the three kings do wander around and leave blessings on the lintels of doors by writing this symbol K+M+B+12 (the 12 represents the current year. I have not ever actually seen the kings at their work, but have seen the chalk markings throughout my travels through the Czech Republic.This day also signifies the end of the holiday season. Decorations are taken down and the tree is removed. The flat we live in here is on the fourth floor of an apartment building. Even though the tree is not very big, it would be a bit of a hassle to carry it down the elevator, not to mention the big mess that the needles would make. The solution? My mom-in-law opened the window while Mark and I went downstairs to make sure the area was clear. We were only just in time to see the tree taking flight and landing on the snow below. Wow. I guess that's one way to do it.Speaking of snow, it seems to have returned. On Thursday, we took a little drive over the Germany to check out an electronics store there. Mark doesn't seem to understand how his mother and I can enjoy hours on end of shopping in clothing stores, but you put him in a big room filled with electrical wires and headphones and he could wander around talking about circuits and gadgets all day long. Sure, he might be speaking English, but I have no clue. All the same, I'm happy enough as long as he's enjoying himself. There's something about new things wrapped up in plastic packaging and shinty new boxes that always gives me a thrill. Blasted consumerism. I'm a total sucker, but also completely happy to leave empty handed. Looking is good enough for me.On the drive home, the wind and rain continued to make an absolute nuisance of themselves. As I watched out the back seat window, the racing drops of water seemed to collect themselves into waves that shifted into ghostly appartitions in the wind. It was really fascinating to watch. Then, all at once, the rain morphed into snow. My eyeslids grew heavy, and a few minutes later Mark woke me up and pointed out the window. What had been a water logged landscape on our drive in, had turned to snowy fields and trees blessed with sparkling white frocks. A total turn around.Later in the afternoon, the in-laws went for another little drive and came back with a brand now 42" widescreen 3D television. Wow! It's pretty cool. There are 7 pairs of glasses in an array of colors. My father-in-law was a bit distressed that there was only one black pair. :) The TV has this nifty feature where it can even take regular 2D programming, and translate it into 3D. Who knew?And now for the news I'm sure everyone has been waiting for with bated breath: The book is done. And by done, I mean that there is a decent quality first draft resting peacefully on my ipad until I have a chance to start editing. I've decided to give it the weekend to rest, but then I intend to go over it with a fine tooth comb. Unlike the books I have completed in the past, this one was written with no prep work. I came up with the basic idea about 5 years ago on a drive from Blodgett, OR to Moscow, ID. It's sitting somewhere in a journal, but I never forgot the premise, so when Mark gave me the 90 day challenge, I thought it would be a good story to start with. Now I need to go back and make sure things fit together. The problem with just letting a story take you where it will without any sort of outline or character sketches is that it is easy to have the end disconnect from the beginning. Of course, having written it over such a short span of time has made it easier to keep a handle on things, but there are still adjustments that have to be made. And after that? Only time will tell.

First Photos of 2012, and a few from '11

2012-01-04T13:34:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I added in any photos. I got a bit wordy there at the end of the year, so here's a chance to mix things up a bit once more. We'll start off with a couple from Christmas. Sorry no people. They're a bit shy around here, and rather cautious about being posted all over the internet. Perhaps I'm just naive in thinking it's not such a big deal, but I do my best to preserve the preferences of others, so I give you a mostly person free photo post.

Here's your chance to see a bit of my mom-in-laws style. Her cookies are fabulous (and still coming out of boxes every few days to maintain the beauty of the cookie plate. It seems they make up a ton of cookies before Christmas, and then continue to dole them out over the next month or so) and the Christmas tree is exquisite. I got to help with the tree, but wisely stuck to putting only the variety she was currently hanging on at any given moment.

We had a lovely layer of snow everywhere from Christmas up through New Year's Eve. It was positively festive, but now it has been completely washed away, leaving the ground all soupy and g-ross! These shots were from one of my Christmas shopping days :)

On the day Tammy and I went to visit our friend Che, who now lives WAAAAAY out in the middle of Czech nowhere, I had flashbacks to my Winfield days with this little lunch snack. My first year I had one of these cheese buns with cheese spread, meat and tomato together with coke and paprika potato chips essentially every school day. Yes, boring it may seem to some, but I'm rather a creature of habit if the truth be known. Perhaps the very fact that my life has been so random and all over the place necessitates such food rituals. Right now I'm eating primarily a roll with yogurt every day for breakfast, and any time I prepare food for myself it's a sandwich similar to those I ate back at Winfield.

Before making this little trek, Tammy and I searched the internet to discover "things to do in Olovi" and came up with a big fat lot of nothing. For those with a vague feeling for this part of the Czech countryside, it's a little village tucked up in the forest about 11 KM from Sokolov. We really had to slog through some nasty stuff to make it to Che's house, but it was worth it to have a chance to visit with her and to see her adorable baby Kathleen ;)

Perhaps the oddest bit of the journey is what we found in the Sokolov train station:

Really not sure where all the fantasy came from, but it did amuse us, especially since my book deals with dragons...Just a little teaser as the countdown to the end of my challenge is seriously on. I'm down to just a couple of days, and am at 93,554 words and 184 pages...Here are a couple more pictures leading up to New Year's and the end of the snow. Marianske Lazne is a lovely place to be certain.

These, by all rights, should be in my last post, but I'll just tack them in here. They are the before and after fireworks photos. Seriously, an amazing display of pyrotechnics :)

And now to finish it all off, yesterday we finally had a chance to go back and see the cottage. It made me quite nostalgic for all that back breaking work during the summer I spent here. There is still a long way to go, but it's looking great from the outside. Oh, and I did manage to squeeze one person in. That's right, the one who's not afraid to pose, despite being completely not photogenic.

Hope you enjoyed the show. Stay tuned for more to come :)

2012: Now Official Worldwide

2012-01-01T03:39:00.001-08:00

Well, over here in the Czech Republic we brought in the new year with a BANG! And a pretty serious one at that. My father-in-law is amazing in the pyrotechnic department. It might have taken a little while to get it set up, but that just meant that all the amatuers were finished so they could enjoy a real show. I've got a few pictures of the set up, and I'll try to get them in later, but for now, just trust me, it was amazing. I have now experienced New Years celebrations in 5 different countries, and I have to say that the fireworks here were by far the most exciting. We didn't go into the middle of town to see the craziness there, but out here in our little corner there were all sorts of people setting things on fire and letting them shoot up into the air all over the place. However, at the end of our display there was actually applause. Nice!The rest of the evening was spent quietly watching TV, including some New Year's celebration from 1979 which was pretty interesting. Defintely a different era. This country sure has been through a lot during it's long and tumultuous history, and I wish it the best in the coming year.I've also been thinking a bit about resolutions. I think I mentioned before that I've been hearing a lot more about goals vs. resolutions. There seems to be something mroe palatable in the idea of a goal that you are striving for, rather than a complete an unequivocal change in lifestyle. Some of these are rather general ideas, and others are things brought up by my inspiring husband, so let's see what I can come up with...1) Collecting more than 5 recipes (not counting cookies) that I am not freaked out to get in the kitchen and make.2) Publish an e-book (this one is from Mark, who is encouraging me to put out some of my old stories as free books to start creating a following)3) Contact traditional publishers with my (soon to be) completed manuscript.4) Finish up some of the other books I have lying around on various devices in various stages.5) Get a job (did I mention these are in no particular order?)6) Work on creating a more balanced and healthy lifestyle, as opposed to my general lackadaisical approach (this is partly due to the fact that, while I might still feel 23, my body has slightly different and more bloated ideas.)7) Scrapbook of my wedding8) General crafting incorporation into life. (I'm hoping that once we have our own place and can sort of set things up I can create a better system so it doesn't take so much effort. I'd really like to work more with the journal making project that I came up with last summer and see where it can take me.)9) Find a way to integrate myself more into local life, wherever it is that we "end up."10) Try to join a writer's group. 11) Improve my Czech. (This is a constant, endless, and frustratingly impossible goal, but it is something I always want to try. In my dreaming of 'someday's I imagine sitting in a real classroom with other language learners, studying Czech in a serious sort of way, but it's not likely to come anytime soon.)12) Improve my blogging record. It would be great to hit the 100 mark. That only means a couple blogs a week, and if I stay focused I don't see why that shouldn't be manageable. I'm considering monetizing as well, but that's still in the air.There are more things bouncing around in my head right now, but I'll stick with this as it's already a long list. as always, I want to live more, love more, and experience God more. There is so much in life to enjoy and experience, whether in good times or in bad, and I hope to continue making a concentrated to be engaged in the life that I am living, rather than just passively letting it slip by me. So I end again with Happy New Year! and wish whoever stumbles upon this humble blog of mine all the best in life and health and love and joy in this new year.

And, wait for it, wait for it...it's here!

2011-12-31T12:50:00.001-08:00

Well the moment is now very nearly upon us. 2012. My friends in Hong Kong have already arrived, it's about two hours away here in Czech, and the US is just behind the times. They'll catch up eventually, but it's interesting to think of the time wa that is the world.I don't know that I have much to share about new Czech traditions I have learned for New Years because I really haven't learned any. We've been eating little chlebičky bites all day, and there is a serious pyrotechnic planned when the time is right,mbut that's about it besides parties on tv. Not a whole lot different from the US, except I thi the fireworks are a bigger deal here, more like 4th of July stateside.It's been quite a year. There have been ups and downs a plenty, but in the end I am happy I have found my Live and that we have the chance to ring in this new year together.So at the end of my record breaking post year, I wish whoever reads this all the best and a very Happy New Year :)

The Ways of Our Lives

2011-12-30T14:04:00.001-08:00

It is so interesting to see the way that things play out for different people. None of us have the same life to live. Whether you believe we were all born for a specific destiny, or that life is a set of chances, predestined or just random, the truth is, no one can say what is going to come in the future. Sure, there are plenty of people who try, but there is no way to predict what is to come.In all my wildest, craziest dreams, I never would have imagined myself married to a younger Czech man. I always wanted to travel, but had no clue that I would end up with passports stamped in so many different lands, and a family stretched over continents. But here I am, and this is the world that I inhabit.Over the past couple of days I had the opportunity to visit with a couple of American friends. One of them has come to the point that Czech is so much her home that she has no desire to return to America at all. Visiting family is fine, but Czech is the place she has set down her roots. The second girl also married a Czech man, and currently lives in a small, remote Czech village with her husband and baby girl. I am sure that neither one of them ever thought their lives would become so centrailzed on a country so far away from their beginnings.As a new year is about to begin, it's always tempting to start making resolutions and plans and trying to figure out what the next year is going to hold. There are those certain this year is going to be the last one for all of us, but they thought that right before the year 2000 as well, and look at how many people are left with rusty generators, and cans of food they have no desire to ever eat. Life is unpredictable. That's just the nature of things.There are always things in life I would like to change. There are personal things, and societal things, and so many things in between. 2012 is going to be another year of fresh starts and new beginnings. I have no idea how it will start, and even less of an idea how it will end.Sometimes my life feels mundane to me. If not predictable, it is at least some sort of normal. Regardless of the fact that I live a life quite unlike anything I ever dreamed that it would be, it is just the life I live. I think the main thing I need to remember that each day, whether full of new adventures, or spent in quiet repose, is a gift. That day will never return. I hope that in the next year I will take more advantage in that truth. I might not have the chance, or the financial means, to run all over the place, but I want to appreciate the days that I am given, and really live in the year to come.

Record Breaking

2011-12-29T03:12:00.001-08:00

Well, I've done it. I've managed to write more posts in a month than I ever have before. This has been quite an up and down one in my own personal blogland. I've had months where I didn't write a single post, or only one or two, then I've capped it off with a mind boggling best personal posting record here in December. In a skype chat with a friend a couple weeks ago she was pointing out how she can always tell when I have too much time on my hands. Those are the days when the posts become more frequent, even though there isn't a whole lot to say. At least it's good to know that people can benefit from the time I spend sitting around on my back side.I've actually done all sorts of writing this month. My book has more than doubled in size since we arrived here in the Czechlands, I've written a ton of blog posts, and the big 200 page journal that I brought along for the trip is more than half filled. I did bring an extra tiny journal along, as well as my Gadanke become journal and a journal for writing notes on thankfulness in, but I'm thinking I just might have to make an extra journal purchase as well, seeing as three and four are just specialty journals. Some might see this as overkill. And perhaps it is. Most of my journals are not meant for any sort of wider dispersion than for my and God's eyes only. My blog is read by a handful of friends and families (and the odd hits that I get from bizarre Russian URLS that make no sense to me whatsoever). I have no idea if the book I'm currently writing will end up being published, let alone a best seller (although I have a nephew who has already said he'll make the movie and a second who has asked to be the star character after hearing the briefest synopsis). I guess it all just goes to show that writing is something I do because it is a part of who I am. As much as I love comments, as much as being published is a huge dream, I don't write for that. I write because I love it.Well, I'm heading out to Cheb again today to hopefully meet up with some former students. Then tomorrow Tammy and I will go an see another former teacher who also married local. Should be an interesting couple of days, so I had to be sure to post a little something to get ahead of things. See I'm at 80 posts for the year with this one included, and my record for posts in a year is currently set at 82. Let's just see what I can do :)

Begendings...

2011-12-28T14:01:00.001-08:00

It's hard to believe that the end of 2011 is already looking us in the face. Hard to believe that a year ago I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to plan my wedding. In some ways, so much has happened, and in other ways so little.I don't really know what I was expecting. I'm kind of bad about expectations. The thing is, I have them. I have ideas about how things should go. I make plans in my mind, generally not telling them to anyone else, and then find myself stupidly disappointed when they don't turn out the way I invisioned them.So another year seems to have snuck past me, and I'm left trying to figure out what I have accomplished, and what I need to figure out so I can do it better the next time around.There were definitely some big events in this year. Marriage being the primary one. Hard to even describe how all of that has come to pass. A few years ago I was all prepped to write the story of the loveless. I was so tired of reading about happy endings where people just magically find each other and things get tied up all nice and neatly. I wanted to let people know that there are those of us out there who strive and strive and strive, and still end up alone. But I'm not alone in that way anymore. Out of nowhere, love did find me. I still find myself in awe of the fact that I have a husband. It's not an easy thing to wrap my head around. Especially seeing as how, almsot a year later, we're still living with one set of parents or another.I managed to find a job, get promoted, and then quit set job. It's one of those patterns that doesn't make it easy to think about going out and finding another one. I've got a pretty lousy track record. I'm an excellent worker when you have me. I only take sick days when I am honestly and truly deathly ill. I work whenever I'm asked and I'm incredibly dependable. But then that transient nature of mine kicks in and I'm off again. It would be great if I could say I have a plan for how all of that is going to work out, but employment plans tend to be something I'm not so great with. (sigh)I am still working to finish up my writing challenge. I'm at about 83,000 words and 166 pages. I'd like to get to somewhere around 100,000. That's a nice even sort of goal. Of course, it doesn't look like I'll be finished by the first, but due to extenuating circumstances I've recieved a 6 day extension, so I'm hoping I can iron things out and call it a novel by then.I've been reading several blogs talking about goals and plans for the new year. Seems that resolutions are out, too easy to break and be done with, and goals are in. I'm not quite ready to spell out all my goals just yet, but it's given me some things to think about at least.I'm not expecting the world to come to an end in the next year, so hopefully I can manage to get my head on straight and come up with something worth while to apply myself to in the days that are to come.

Have Yourself a Merry Czech Christmas

2011-12-25T03:21:00.001-08:00

It's Christmas morning in the Czech Republic and I've just been doing a little research. In my years of teaching here, my favorite times were always when students shared their traditions or stories of their lives. The main reason I was here, after all, was to become a part of their world while sharing my love of Jesus, the reason for the season :) The irony here, is that after all those wonderful classes learning about Czech Christmas traditions I just did a blog survey and realized that I never really shared any of them here.Now as a part of being in Europe, I wanted to make the most of the time. Whenever I had a holiday I hit the road. So every time Christmas came around with it's glorious two week holiday, I was outta here! Consequently, that meant I was either too busy getting ready to go, or too bursting with stories of my travels and all those photos, to share very much about what a Czech Christmas is like.Well, this year is different. This year, I'm going to share with you some Czech traditions along with what I actually got to experience. It is very different from the way things go with my family in the US, and naturally different from being on the road as well. So now, I give you, A Very Merry Czech Christmas.As in most European countries, the main celebration takes place on Christmas Eve. The preparations, however, begin much earlier as I have shared my stories of making Christmas cookies. In the morning on the 24th the cookies were put on beautiful plates atop festive napkins, and set in different places around the house to make them easily accessible all day long. Seeing as how we weren't going to be starting things until around 5, there was a lot of day to use up somehow. One of the things Czech's love on Christmas is watching "Fairy Tales." Some of them actually are what we would call fairy tales in the US as well, but others are just old classic movies. They even had "Elf" on in Czech, which I found highly amusing. We watched bits and pieces of different ones all morning and into the afternoon. Then Mark and I spent some time out with some of his friends to greet them for the holiday as well.In the early evening we got together for Christmas dinner. One of the Czech traditions is to buy a live carp and keep it in the bathtub until Christmas time. Then they kill it as can bee seen in this commercial. Really worth watching :) Seems Chuck Norris has a weakness after all. Thankfully, my family here doesn't do the whole carp thing, so our Rižek was either Pork or Turkey. I went for the turkey option since it's closer to my own Christmas meal of choice. This meant that we could not participate in another random tradition in which people save one of the carp scales in their wallet for a year in order to be lucky in money for the year.To begin the meal we had a toast with champaign and strawberries. Then it was time for our feast of breaded and fried filets (turkey for me) and the classic potato salad made by my father-in-law. The meal was delicious, and it was nice to sit around the table with the family.Next we gathered around the tree which Anna and I had decorated earlier in the morning. It was a sparkling vision in silver and white. Very fitting to my mom-in-laws taste. We even put up the decorations in order of kind. First white puffs, then snowflakes, silver balls of different varieties and glass ornaments. We opened presents together, and enjoyed the time of sharing. Then our little Czech Christmas was pretty much finished. We cleaned up the paper mess, put our gifts in our rooms, and spent the rest of the evening watching more "fairy tales" and eating chocolates and Cukrovy (cookies). It was a lovely evening really. We were a bit too tired to go out and find a church having a midnight service (another Czech tradition) but we did watch part of the live broadcast from the Vatican, which was interesting since Mark and I went and saw the Pope when he visited Czech a couple years ago. And so it went.Here are some other traditions I have heard from students in the past:* cutting an apple in half the round way to see the Christmas star* not eating anything all day long in order to hopefully see the golden pig which will signify luck for the coming year.* There's something about dropping molten metal into the bathtub. It actually happened in one of the movies we watched. I'm not really sure what it is supposed to signify, but it makes some interesting shapes.* Naming the carp in your bathtub "Pepa" which is the nickname for JosefThat's most of what I can think of for right now. Just some nice things to add to my list of Christmas traditions. But despite all these things, the best part of Christmas for me is thinking of the reason we celebrate. What a miracle to think of how God sent a part of himself into the world to show us what love is all about. How blessed we are, despite our personal difficulties, to live in a time where we can turn to a Savior and be forgiven. Were it not for this silent night a good two thousand years ago, this world would be an even more desperate and hopeless place to live. I am so thankful to God for us indescribable gift.Merry Christmas to All, Peace On Earth and Goodwill to All People, and Oh So Much Love from the Czech Republic on this Christmas Day 2011

A Moment In History

2011-12-23T09:05:00.000-08:00

I'll be completely honest. Before I was planning to come to the Czech I didn't know much about the country. Sure, I knew it used to be called Czechoslovakia, and at least was aware that it wasn't that any more. However, the name Vaclav Havel didn't mean anything to me.I wouldn't say I grew up in a cave, but, except for when I was in Senior Soc in High School and wanted to win the daily trivia challenge for my team by knowing anything and everything that was going on in the world, I have never paid much attention to world events. I knew that the Clinton's daughter was Chelsea because she was a kid in the White House when I was a kid, and that had a sort of significance. However, when my husband asked me today what Obama's kids names are, I had no idea. I know there are a couple of them, and they're cute and little and apparently when he was first elected you could learn exactly what they ordered for school lunch on a daily basis, but I wasn't around for that and I didn't pay attention.I'm the sort of person for whom checking the news means seeing what my friends and family are up to. That is what matters to me.But sometimes there are things that happen in the world that make me stop and take notice. I just so happened to be in the Czech Republic at the time of something very significant in their history, the death of Vaclav Havel. He was a writer, a dissident, a peace maker and a politician. I can't say I know a lot about his politics, but I know he was a man that was respected the world over. He became the first president after the fall of communism, largely due to his part in leading them through the Velvet Revolution. There aren't a whole lot of examples of a total governmental overturn when there is no bloodshed. I'm not going to write some sort of serious memoriam. I really don't know enough, but I can tell you that when you see the response of the people to his death, especially in comparison to the insanity demonstrated by the North Koreans at the death of Kim Jong Il, you can see what sort of man he was. After three days of national mourning, today was his actual funeral. The streets were full of people who came out to give their respects, including the Clintons and Madeline Albright. Have to say, it was pretty impressive to watch the old Barracuda speaking in Czech at the funeral. The Czechs have made a mark on the world to be sure.So I end this now, with a couple pictures of the little candle memorial set up for him here in Marianske Lazne.

Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Food

2011-12-22T10:13:00.001-08:00

I missed my cooking lesson today. Oops. I got the run down of the ingredients, so at least I typed it up, but I wasn't there to see how the mixing looks or any of that good stuff. The cake is only half done, however, so tomorrow I get to help with the gelatine and fruit part. Should be interesting.Being a cross cultrual international person is just something that sort of happened to me. I always wanted to travel, but I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be blessed to do so much of it. Especially not with the sort of budget I have. While I firmly believe that people should expose themselves to different cultures whenever possible, I realize my lifestyle is not avialable to most people for one reason or another. Their time is taken up in other ways. That's just the way it is. So I'm not going to say that everyone should travel, because I know that isn't possible. And I won't say that people who travel are better, because that isn't true either. But I know that the traveling I have been blessed to do has changed me in many ways. And one of those ways revolves around food.Today I'm going to talk about something pretty simple. Baguettes and yogurt. These are the sort of things you can get pretty much anywhere in the world. But everywhere you go they're different. I've never been to France, except passing through on a bus ride to London, so I can't speak to the beauty of a true French baguette, but I've had some pretty good ones in my day.I can still remember a time my first summer in Hong Kong, when I went for a little trip to Stanley Market all on my own. I was twenty years old, and so fascinated by being some place so totally foreign and fascinating and beautiful. In my youthful mind I wanted to do something that could be equated to really feeling like a traveler. So I found a little cafe and bought a baguette, then got a bag of the most enormous red grapes you can imagine. I took them to a big concrete barrier near the water, and I climbed on top and sat there watching the waves and the sky and feeling like I was having a very existential sort of moment. I don't remember how the baguette tasted, but I do remember there were huge seeds in the grapes, and that I had a horrible time finding a place to wash them before I ate them. What I really remember is just the feeling of being alive and oh so very present in the moment.I grew up on your basic white wonder style bread. The reason for that was because I refused to try anything more interesting. I loved my mom's homemade bread too, but even there I went for white and fluffy and avoided the crust. It wasn't until my summer in Italy when I was seventeen, that I discovered the beauty of a nice crusty loaf. The bread there was so tough that it took some work to chew, but somehow that made you value the experience all the more. I have now discovered that, in my opinion, a really good baguette should have an almost buttery flavor. The crust should be flaky and crisp but not too tough. Today I ate such a baguette. It was part of my breakfast, and it made a bit of a mess as it flaked away, but it was oh so good.With that baguette, I also had yogurt. Here is where American sensibilities get things wrong. In America, it's all about health. Or someone's idea of what health should look like. Low fat, sugar free, artificial but somehow natural. I've had some good yogurt stateside, but it's nothing like the stuff you can find here. The Czechs, it seems, are not afraid of fat. They aren't afraid to use a nice thick cream, and boy can you tell the difference. The yogurt here is thick and creamy and just all kinds of amazing. So my day started off with a nice crusty baguette and a smooth creamy strawberry yogurt.I'm not really sure where I'm going with all this. I think it's largely due to the fact that I finally finished reading "Julie and Julia" as well as the fact that I've been watching two cooking challenge shows every day all this week. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to turn into one of those people who lives to eat, but it sure is fascinating to watch the people who love to cook get all excited about it. I'm just hoping that one day being faced with the task of preparing a meal for more than myself (since I'm quite happy with another baguette topped with meat and cheese and a nice creamy spread as a meal thank you very much!) won't fill my entire body with dread. Here's to hope says I.

It's VIP Prostreno Time!

2011-12-21T08:07:00.001-08:00

The Czech Republic is a small country. Again, I claim no absolute knowledge of geography, but by train you can travel all the way across the longest bit in about 8 hours. And trains are slow and make frequent stops and have delays in between. Due to the size, it is a lot easier for them to have a closeness that does not exist in Mega-Countries like the United States. The Czech's have a much longer history than Americans, and this also serves to hold them together. Perhaps this is a possible reason that shows like Prostreno can exist.The basic premiss of the show is that a group of 5 strangers takes turns hosting dinner one night of the week. The person in charge for the evening creates a menu and sends it out to each of the other members. As part of the show they interview the people to make guesses about what the person will make, then ask their take on how the dishes will be when they have a chance to read the menu. Throughout this time they cross back over to the cook of the day and watch their preparations. The guests arrive and have a chance to snoop around the person's house, giving commentary of course. Then they all sit down to dinner and share opinions on the food and the atmosphere. There is usually some sort of game for entertainment somewhere in the middle. Each host offers up a starter, soup/salad course, main dish and dessert. At the end, the others are interviewed on their own to give a score out of ten. On Friday, the person who scored the most points is rewarded with 10,000 KC. Not quite like the $10,000 prize on most Food Network shows, but while those tend to be a production on a grand scale, Prostreno looks more like something you could actually do with your friends.In the process of my Czech cooking training, I think I have finally amassed enough knowledge to take my shot on Prostreno. Okay, maybe I'm not quite up to that (the word literally means "intermediate") but I now have the correct number of dishes in me repertoire. Starter: Smazenky - a slice of bread fried with an egg and flour mixture on one side, then topped with mustard and veggies.Salad: Light green salad with a homemade dressing.Main Course: Beef with an onion sauce served on rice.Dessert: Almonds caramelized with cinnamon and sugar.I'm not saying it would be the meal that wins the money, but it should at least count for something. I have all the recipes stored on my iPad complete with my rough approximation of ingredients and instructions as well as photos to help illustrate how it all should look.This week they are having the special VIP version of the show. Four famous Czech couples are taking their chances at cooking. I'm not sure if there is any monetary prize in store at the end. I think it's just the pleasure of knowing that they won, but it's still pretty entertaining. Last night the final couple to arrive didn't even know who they were coming to see somehow, maybe they lost the number they were supposed to ring, so they just started calling up to all sorts of different flats to see if they'd found the right one. Pretty entertaining.The whole show is so intimate, that I'm not sure it would work on US television. Perhaps on a local channel they could tuck it in after the nightly news. There is just such a lack of continuity in the US. Sure, people put on some sort of patriotic front, but they all seem to stand for such different things that it's hard to even define what American culture is. I guess it doesn't really matter, but there's something nice about the cozy feeling of national identity that people have around here. Guess that comes of having a language that only 11 million people speak, instead of most of the world.Note: according to my Love, google translate is wrong. Prostreno actually means: set the table. makes a bit more sense at least :)

Christmas in Bayreuth

2011-12-20T07:29:00.000-08:00

Christmas markets are a pretty big deal around these parts. They are especially popular in Germany. On numerous occasions I have made it over to Nurnberg to visit one of the oldest Christmas Markets in Europe. I'm not going to act all overly educated and pretend I know exactly how old it is or anything, but it's been around for a long time and is seriously huge. It's also a wee bit far away. So this year, Tammy and I decided to try a market we'd never been to that was also a little closer and still in the cheap zone. (Note: I lived over here for several years and the prices of things never really went up much, but after a year of being gone suddenly everything is more expensive. From food, to train tickets, and even the local ML bus. Inflation is not my favorite. Now let me ask you, should a ticket for a train with a heater that looks like this:

really increase? I think not.)Anyhow, we headed out on Sunday to check out the market in Bayreuth, a town just slightly farther away than Marktredwitz. We had a street map with a vague direction to go, but no real idea where to find what we were looking for. Thankfully, being the expert European travelers that we are, we managed. On the way we passed sights like this:

We passed through an ancient archway and spotted the drink booths, which let us know we were definitely headed the right direction. And then we were there.

I always love checking out the little booths and seeing what the popular ornaments are for the year. Being in Germany, and having prices in Euros, it was a bit out of my comfy range, but it's fun just to look. There are also the architectural gems that make it even more interesting.

We also discovered that they don't get a lot of American tourists around these parts. When we were looking for a hot drink, some men working in a booth tried to woo us with their wares. When we explained that we didn't speak much German, but English instead, they were very curious to learn where we were from and what brought us to their little town. When we half way explained, the older man who spoke some English decided that we should have a free sample of their special Christmas brew. It was a unique concoction that mixed red wine, rum, and citrus juice and I believe some cinnamon, all warm and toasty in a cup. I'll admit, I was rather glad it was a free sample, and there was no further pressure to buy, which was nice. It also did really warm me up all the way through, which was very useful on such a cold wintery day.Tammy needed her traditional market sausage, and I decided on a baguette with garlic butter, tomatoes, and melted mozzarella cheese. Tasty little snacks to help us along our way back to the station. The market was rather smaller, and much less crowded, than we had anticipated, so it only took us a couple hours to feel like we'd done the town. We jumped the next train back to Marktredwitz and when we arrived there we learned we had a while until the next train back to Cheb. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, we walked around through the streets of M. It was actually quite snowy there, but we were still able to enjoy the market they had there, as well as visiting a cafe. (Note: in Germany everything is generally closed on Sundays, especially in smaller towns. Despite Christmas being only a week away, even the shopping malls are closed.)The cafe we found open was one my friend Nicole and I visited several years ago on another day waiting for a train. It's a bit of a stuffy place in a hotel. The set up is odd and if you order a pastry you have to pay extra to sit inside and eat it. The usual set that takes a coffee there on a Sunday afternoon is rather cautious of strangers. The elderly ladies either ignored us or looked at us as though we had clearly stumbled into the wrong place. Ah well, at least the cappuccino was tasty.

It's only about a five minute walk back up to the station, and we thought we were doing just fine, but when we arrived we watched the train pulling out. The very train we were supposed to take. If we'd realized we should hustle it would have been no problem. Instead, we had another 45 minutes to spend in Marktredwitz.So how did we spend that time, you ask? Well, we went and had our photo taken with Santa. Isn't that what all the 30 something women you know do on a Sunday afternoon? Seemed reasonable enough to us. There is joy in being able to just enjoy life sometimes. And believe, the Santa and photographer greatly enjoyed our amusement. The picture is supposed to be e-mailed to Tammy, so I don't have it just yet, but when it comes I'll try to post it too.We did finally make it safely back to Cheb, where all things remained as they should be. We had pizza at Jakubska, and spent the night relaxing in her Skalka flat. Come Monday morning, she still had to go to work. The school system here isn't quite as set on always giving a two week holiday, so I think she works until the 23rd and only has off until the 3rd. Not so cool.My walk back to the train station was quite lovely. I decided to go down by the river and enjoy the place I've walked so many times. I wasn't disappointed.

And who knew there would be a tribute to me right there on the graffiti wall?

It was like it was my special day or something :)

Bravery Really is...

2011-12-19T07:47:00.001-08:00

Someday I'm going to speak Czech. I wish that someday was now. I wish it was a language a bit more closely related. A language I could just fall into. I could spend all my time being frustrated with the fact that I sound like a toddler at best when I try to choke out as word or two here and there. Sometimes that is exactly what I do. Other times I say, sure I'll go shopping with you all day my dear parents-in-law, without the company of my husband. (He had to stay home and keep an eye on Katcha, who does happen to be doing better. She's walking around and eating and drinking, and even went outside a couple of times today which is definitely a relief for all of us.)As soon as we were in the car my phone rang. Just a little quick question from my Love, but it was enough to alert the parents that I do have an operational phone now. Which led to them asking for my number. I'm not quite sure what we would be able to say if they did need to call me, but it was a nice gesture all the same. And I even managed to tell them that my phone is very old because I bought it when I lived in Hong Kong. I felt relatively pleased with the exchange. It was very nearly an actual conversation with at least a couple complete sentences.We headed out toward Plzen, but made a cemetery stop first. I came out here once before last summer. There is something so powerful about visiting a family grave site. I'm not sure how many years it has been since Mark's grandmother passed away, but it is obviuos that his father is still very much attached. A Christmas bouquet was placed beside the headstone, and an electric candle, that flickers like a real candle, was added to the glass candle box. Czech graves are quite different from the ones we have in America. They are often more like little stone boxes and they're set so close together that there is now way of knowing where the body actually lies. We stood a moment, admiring the new additions, and then said goodbye. An emotional experience, even though I never met the woman.After that it was shopping time. It was the final shopping weekend before Christmas, so there was plenty to get done. Our first few shops were busy, but not over the top. I've been in American malls at this time of year. I've experienced the frenzy. It wasn't really like that here. There wer lots of people, but they weren't so frantic. Christmas is a big deal here, not like in Hong Kong where it's more like just another excuse for grand displays and materialism. They get really into it, but I feel like the focus is more on making millions of Christmas cookies, and preparing for the big day than it is about spending every spare moment shopping.Or at least not until after lunch. We took a break at the classic food stop, the York Hotel. Lunch was nice. Being the conscientious Czech parents that they are, they insisted that getting a small salad and krokety did not a proper meal make. After scouring the menu for things they thought I might like, they know I like pizza and pasta, they accepted my choice of a salad with chicken. At least it involved meat. We returned to shopping and it seemed the floodgates had opened at last. The parking lot of the next place we tried was ultra full. Full to the point that after ten minutes of driving around we totally gave up and drove off. We had better luck at the next couple places (did I mention that Plzen has a LOT of shopping malls?) but there were definitely bigger crowds. There are some people who get all antsy about Christmas shopping, but I'm just not one of them. I actually enjoy being out in the crush and rush. Probably partly because it does remind me of Hong Kong on a normal day. I also just love looking at the rows and rows of fresh clean things. I suppose you could call it some twisted materialism, but I don't even need to buy anything. I just like to see it. I like to see things and get ideas about how it must be to have stuff like that. Totally bizarre, I know, but there it is.In the end, I know everything I'm getting for Christmas, but it was all fun anyway. I also know what Mark is getting, and I just have to enjoy that he, who doesn't like surprises, doesn't know, while I, who do like surprises, knows. It's a bit odd, but sometimes you just have to accept doing things differently, right?By the time we got home it was about 6PM. It had been a long language overload sort of day. I didn't succeed in talking as much as I would like, but I was there. I spent the whole day struggling to understand, and trying to make myself understood at least every now and again. It will get better one of these days, I'm sure of it. Just not sure exactly when that day will be or how it will be achieved. For now I just have to be content with the small things and thankful for every victory in overcoming the language barrier.

Foreshadowing

2011-12-16T07:55:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about foreshadowing recently. It's one of those things that writers often use. Sometimes they're little hints you don't even realize until you've finished the book. I have to say that J.K. Rowling was always very good at this. When you have a plan and know where it is going to go, it's hard not to slip in little clues. Perhaps it's out of some sense of duty to prepare your readers for a big event. And even when you tell a story about your own life, it's hard not to slip in little previews of what is to come.But on a daily basis, foreshadowing does not exist. Sometimes things you aren't planning for just happen. It's like Katcha, Mark's beloved dog, having a stroke two nights ago. He had spent the whole year missing her, looking forward to spending time with her, and remembering all the good things about her. Then two weeks after we arrive, she has a stroke. Wednesday night she was perfectly fine, and Thursday morning she was vomiting buckets. She's a bit better today, and the doctors have apparently given her some hope, but she can hardly move on her own, and scarecely nibbles at food. It's a horrible tragedy, and we didn't see it coming.This happens so often in life. The end of this month will mark the one year anniversary of my dear friend Becky's death. She was just on her way home from work on a Thursday. Nothing remarkable, except that it was a rather nasty weather sort of day, but her family, and she herself, did not have some lurking feeling that horror was on the horizon.Now in retrospect, we can often see signs. If I were writing the story of us, I might say that the way Katcha responded to Mark when we arrived was a sign that she was pulling away, preparing for disaster. He was so thrilled to see her, and she was reserved, almost resentful even. I teased that she was giving him the cold shoulder for being gone so long, but now it can be reinterpreted as something deeper. Perhaps the very fact that I was thinking about foreshadowing before this happened was foreshadowing enough.I continue to make progress on my book, but I'm writing it in a different way than I normally do. After reading a book in High School, by Gilbert Morris of all people, I got in the habit of layout. This is actually a very usefull tool when getting something accomplished. If I plan out what will happen in advance, all I have to do is fill in the pieces. It's also useful to have models written up of each character, so you don't accidentally change them from being brown eyed to blue somewhere in the middle. I suppose an editor would help with things like that too, but this time, I'm just wingin' it. There can be no foreshadowing because I don't exactly know where I'm taking it. This is rather dangerous, because it often leads to "Never ending story" Syndrome. But it also means when things happen in the story they happen more organically. They come to pass in the moment, rather than having informative music playing in the background, telling you exactly how you should feel about the upcoming scene.I'm sure when all is said and done, we should be thankful that we cannot see the future. While it might force us to hold the ones we love a bit more dear because we know the exact moment when we will lose them, it would most likely also blind us with fear. It must be enough to say that God is in control.

Flashback Photo Frenzy

2011-12-15T05:46:00.000-08:00

At long last we have the computer working with the internet. That means full access to pictures with ability to post them. Hopefully it also means no crankiness on the part of the server when I try to make this post a reality. Today seems as good a day as any for doing this, seeing as how I'm not leaving my room much on account of a barfing dog. Poor Katcha has been all kinds of pukish today, and so we're trying to keep things nice and mellow for her, which means me sitting on the bed and being present if she decides to up-chuck again. Yummy, isn't it. Let's just say I've had a lot more experience with bodily fluids than my husband has, which makes me the prime candidate for doggie sick duty.But enough of that, lets go for that stroll down memory lane I've been promising for ages. We're going all the way back to Moscow for the start of this trip. Back when my dear little white mac decided it was full and didn't want to accept any more photos. Silly little thing. Hopefully after a three month respite it will be ready to accept me with open arms once again. So here are those little autumn lovelies from Idaho.

This water was actually kind of sickly looking, but the reflection was so nice I just couldn't resist.

And what would a little photo montage be without a poser shot? Do you know how hard it is to get a camera to balance on a branch at just the right angle? It's tricky. I have nice tripod that would make it all easier, but I often forget to carry it around in my purse all the time.Our next segment recalls those brutal cookies I whipped up for Halloween. I did post a few of these photos off my phone as well, but these are gloriously awful. You can see in the first one that they looked even more fingerlike before baking, but they puffed up quite a bit. I'll know better if I make them again.

Apparently I find it shamelessly entertaining to post photos of food I've managed to make. Perhaps it's because I'm so not a "foodie." So here are the Thanksgiving cookies my mom and I made out of another Rachel Ray mag. They had a lot of cream cheese in them, and were stuffed with apricot jam. A definite hit with the men in the house :)

A small nod now to the lovely Starbucks cup I got from Amy and Nate. I was extra excited to learn that you get a ten cent discount when you order your drink in the cup. So here you have Christmas (that's peppermint mocha for those not in the know) in a Hong Kong cup :)

We now have a bizarre little segue involving some food that I did not make. I must say that my wedding cake was a bit of a disaster. The cake lady delivered it basically as the wedding was starting, probably to avoid actually having to deal with anyone directly involved. It was more than a little off balance, and the longer you looked at it, the more obvious it was that it was essentially patched together with excessive quantities of frosting. At the same time, she made really beautiful sugary flowers, and it didn't taste bad.Wanting to hold with tradition as much as possible, although I've always been curious how a tradition like saving the top of your cake for your first anniversary came about seeing as how it started before refrigeration, we pulled the cake topper out when we were in McMinnville right before heading to Czech. Amazingly, it thawed out into a moist,delicious, chocolatey mess. You can see how the frosting mostly separated off revealing what a hack job it was, but at least it was tasty and the flowers remained in tact.

Next we have a picture of my most recent crochet job. A blanket I made for Jessie's new baby, Daniela, who entered the world the day after I left. At least I got to deliver the blanket in advance :)

On the day we flew out we decided to enjoy a little bit of Seattle. I feel like I have neglected Mark's education of cool things to see in the US, so it was nice to at least give him something before we left.

Yes, this is the first Starbucks. How could we resist checking that out.

I just couldn't resist that last photo of the Ross store. It looks a wee bit classier than our little Moscow Ross, but I imagine it isn't nearly as neat, clean and organized :)After our flight this was the first real Czech advertisement I saw. It was so absolutely bizarre and creepy that I just had to take a photo.

And here you can see the lovely little room that my mom-in-law had made up so nicely for us. It's where I'm sitting at this very moment as I type, with Katcha down at the end wrapped up in Mark's comforter and thankfully not barfing.

And the final photo on our little journey is of the cookies I put the cream on. I have yet to taste them, because all the cookies have been boxed up to take out at Christmas time, but at least I know they look beautiful.

So there you have a quick tour of photos from the last couple of months. Sorry for leaving it all as such a blur, but so it goes. Now that I know this computer will go online I'll try to keep things better up to date photo wise. It really helps to break up the posts, which I think makes them a bit less intimidating.

And Then It All Went Away...

2011-12-14T08:29:00.001-08:00

They've gone and changed something. I'm really not sure why they feel they have to do this. Whoever they might be, they really out to check and make sure before they just do things. Especially when the things they do cause lovely blogs that are all nice and neatly typed to suddenly disappear. Now I'm not even sure I want to go through with even trying to recount it all. The worst bit is, that I actually saw that something was askew after hitting publish twice and getting a big fat nothing, so I specifically made sure to copy it all so I could just reconfigure things and paste it back on. But the thing is so irritating that it refuses to paste it. So, post gone. Self, irritated.What I had done was share the story of today. It was all full of the little trip I went on with my mom-in-law today and how I had to be brave to just put myself out there and go shopping with her on my own. I talked about how it was a glorious day to begin with. The sun was shining brightly, the sort of thing you just don't ignore in the middle of December. We took a crowded bus and wondered together why there were so many people not at work on a Wednesday morning. I felt like I was even somehow being clever with my tale.I wrote about our visits to the expensive shops, and how she fit right in there. In contrast, when I tried to go in the same places during last summer I always felt a bit out of place. And it wasn't just because of my lack of Czech skills. There was also a nice little anectdote about going into the Vietnamese shop, the sort of place you'd find in Mong Kok, full of cheap imitations and odd smells, and how she actually found a couple Czech's working there to make her feel a bit less out of place with her mui mui bag and her Guess boots. Then, just because my world seems to have been doused with domesticity, I shared about my pathetic attempts to peel potatoes in the face of her quick strokes, and then about how I actually copied down her recipe for green salad, but mostly because I was so intrigued that she added powdered sugar to her little dressing mixture.Now I've just gone and slopped this all together into something far from brilliant, and I'm filled with dread that even this will turn out to be a waste of time, because chances are that it won't post either, leaving me seething.I forgot to add that in the middle of our shopping trip the weather turned, as promised, to rain, and when Mark and I took the dog out later it was an absolute downpour. I suppose that's just what's to be expected at this time of year.Now I'm just going to put this grumpy little post to the test and see where it gets me. (sigh) I really do wish they'd learn to leave well enough alone!

Adventures in Czech Cookery (Part 3)

2011-12-12T08:01:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I didn't lable part's one and two, but I think you can figure them out. The mom-in-law came home early with an intense eye ache, but insisted that she'd brought a chunk of meat out of the freezer with the intent to continue my education, and therefore, It just had to be done.

I must admit I'm getting a bit worried about the wordiness of my blogs. They miss the pictures I'd love to insert, but iPad and photos continue to refuse to work together with blog. So. I regret to inform that the picture of my beef with onions in sauce (my own name for it) will just have to wait.

I brought only two books with me to Czech this trip. It's week two, and I'm already half way through with the second. Oops. At least I have a few downloaded on my iPad. I imagine War and Peace will take me a while. (The beauty of free classics!) Anyhow, the book I'm devouring at the moment is Julie and Julia. I saw the movie with my mom and sisters (Jessie included) a couple years ago, and really enjoyed it. I have to say this might be one of those times when the movie outdoes the book. I know, those cases are few and far between, but style, while entertaining, isn't exactly friendly for all audiences the way the movie was. Regardless, it seems a fitting book to read while taking my own stab at culinary something or another. After reading the chapter about her murdering lobsters, it seemed only appropriate that I should have to touch raw meat.

Today's process started out with mom-in-law chopping a chunk of partially frozen raw beef into chunks, then having me pound them with a pokey metal mallet. That done, she began the frying in oil bit, whilst giving me the task of peeling onions. Now, in general I'm a pretty fast person. Maybe not always as fast on the uptake as I'd like to be, but I do things quickly. I walk fast. I clean fast. I write five to ten page papers fast. It's how I roll... Until I find myself in the kitchen. Then langour is probably a better word for it. Mostly because it sounds like a mixture of being really slow and a little horrified, and maybe kind of bored too because I know it's all going to take so long and that I'm going to end up looking inept in the process. I have peeled my fair share of onions, back in the Great Harvest days when I made Curry chicken salads, and fresh slices for sandwiches it was part of my daily routine. Always healthy to have a good cry in the morning, right? But it seems like everyone has a method, and hers involved being faster and less frightened of knives than mine. Likewise, everyone has their own way of chopping onions, and so I did my best to follow hers, but I'm sure that if given the task on my own, I'd probably do it differently. Either way the meat got it's sear and the onions got in to become brown and translucent and things were well underway.

The funny thing about people who know how to cook in general, is that they think it's easy. Okay, maybe it's not rocket science, but easy? That's a bit of a stretch. Yeah, I know following a menu is about reading. I can do reading. And I know that prepping ingredients is so basic that kids can do it. Well, I can do it too. It's not so much all of that part that is the issue really. It's knowing how to know that it's done, and having it turn out like it does in the pretty picture books.

In the book I'm reading, Julie had that problem too. Julia Child would talk about everything like it was a mixture of ease and a thrill. When attempted in real life, however, it was often a disaster. Because how is a person just supposed to know or feel when it's exactly the right moment between perfection and granulated, or charred, or straight up mush? Now imagine trying to figure all that out when someone is speaking a language you don't really know all that well.

Each time "easy" and "finished" were spoken with glee, I knew that when it came my time to cook it on my own it would be more like: Now build the great wall of China in thirty minutes and when you're done it will look like the Eiffel Tower decorated in twinkly lights for Christmas. Just gonna have to wait and see how it goes I guess.

Jiste Jedno, Noch Einmal, Once Again...

2011-12-11T09:42:00.000-08:00

As "anyone" can plainly see, I've been in Germany again. I must admit, I always tremble a bit when I enter tri-lingual situations. Hard to know if I can possibly be up for the challenge. The truth of the matter is, I know one language. Sure, I've dabbled in this and that in the lingual sense, but most people don't consider being able to count to ten and say I love you sufficient evidence of language mastery.

Surprisingly, speaking to four year olds in German ins't quite the daunting task one might think it to be. They're used to people asking them the names of things to test their brilliance, and see nothing wrong with this practice at all. They also speak simply, if not exactly slowly or clearly. You know, you get used to being called "Sigh-ya" and "Mall-ek." Of course try to repeat these words in the way they say them and they'll look at you like you're clearly lacking something in the intelligence category.

But there was more to the trip than just wracking my brain for the right word. I've discovered that I can speak German more easily yet I understand Czech better. I think this is partly because I actually studied German so I have a good feeling for the sentence structure and while I might not always have the vocabulary I can wiggle around it a bit more than I can in Czech. As far as the understanding part goes, I've been listening to Czech a lot more often, be it in conversation or on television, and that has definitely helped with my comprehension. Just don't ask me to string words together because I'm certain to put them in the wrong order and with totally incorrect endings. Thankfully, I was able to pull it off well enough that the twins probably don't even realize I don't speak German, the girls at least felt like I could follow what they were saying and make basic replies, and I was able to carry on a conversation with my sister-in-law during which we both communicated successfully. Granted, I might have occasionally agreed to things that weren't exactly true, but what's life without a few micommunications, right? Even when both parties are fluent in a mutual langauge they don't always get the whole story straight, so I'd say we did pretty well, all things considered.

Of course, there was more than just talking that took place. Saturday morning I had a completely new experience. I'm not sure if this is cultural or what (probably some health regime I've just never heard of) but we had garlic soup for breakfast. That's right, a nice water garlic soup with a few random chunks of potato on the bottom and little crunchy balls of some time sprinkled on top. Considering the fact that my husband thinks eating syrupy waffles in the same meal as bacon (especially for dinner) is the strangest combination ever, I have to say that I've never heard of anyone having garlic soup for breakfast.

After that odd start to the day (well, actually the day started much earlier, seeing as how we still woke up at - gasp - 5 AM, but that's beside the point) Mark left me to fend for myself. This is when I not only impressed myself with my ability to cope, I also learned a new cooking skill. First I helped the kids a bit with putting jam in the middle of sandwich cookies (not nearly as complicated as it sounds unless you're four and think that you should lick off the excess around the edges...). Then I was called upon to make cinnamon sugar coated almonds. I've often bought these tasty little treats at holiday and festival markets in Czech, but this was definitely my first attempt making them. While I did have a large amount of helpful supervision in the form of my sister-in-law, I think I could actually produce said nuts again on my own. I even went so far as to use my iPad skills to document the process and translated the recipe from German to English. Nice.

Later in the afternoon, after the men returned from their shopping trip (oh the joy of electronics stores) the entire crew headed to the ice skating rink in Weiden. Now let me first say that I've only been ice skating once before. It was either Junior or Senior year of high school, some sort of youth group event I believe. I spent the entire time just barely not clinging to the wall. Much as I hate to admit it, 16 or 17 was a long time ago. I won't say quite how long, but suffice it to say, I can basically call this my first time ice skating for all the good that prior trip did me.

For those not in the know, ice skates are really very painful contraptions. My ankles are bruised just from strapping them on. And there is really nothing natural about the stance you have to take in order to drift across the ice. Perhaps, once you really get into the swing of things, your body naturally bends to the point that the skates are somehow comfortable, but I never got there. I just did my best to stay standing. By the end of our outing I felt just about confident enough to allow for several feet to separate me from the wall, and I even got to the point where I would actually lift one foot completely off the ice for more than the briefest of moments. I wasn't about to start trying a triple sow cow (yes I'm quite certain that is not how you spell it, but that IS how it sounds) and my one nasty fall was enough to make me think that being even a little bit daring was a little bit too much, but I still managed to have a good time, and even let Mark take me out into the middle for a couple fast loops. Note: I was clinging tightly to his hand the whole time.

In the evening, the girls made dinner for us all. They were very cute about keeping us all out of the kitchen while they prepared it all. There were name cards set for everyone, and all the makings for sandwiches were spread out on the table for us to enjoy. Very fun.

I would also like to note that the two reptiles - Gary the turtle and Gary the chameleon - somehow met their demise over the past year and were replaced by two rodents. One is a rabbit (okay a bit better than a rodent, but still a nocturnal creature in a cage) and the other was some sort of creepy albino sort of something. The rabbit seemed to be allergic to something and kept sneezing all the time, and during the night the other thing kept making sounds like it was trying feverishly to escape. Not the most encouraging sound to hear when you're trying to sleep.

Overall, it was a really great weekend. Even though I'm still not sure what language to speak or even think in at times, I'm doing my best to get a hang of things :)

I'm Not a Dancer

2011-12-09T03:20:00.001-08:00

No matter how you look at it, I'm just not. I'm not graceful. I can't make my body sway, unless holding a tiny baby, in which case I naturally rock back and forth to that mysterious music that is an infant.
The point of all this, baffling as I'm sure it no doubt is, is that I have a new Denise Austin workout video. I've been a fan for quite a while. It all started in a tiny apartment in Albany, OR. It was a cheap place to live, complete with "special" neighbors, and a gang of children who oddly decided "tu casa is mi casa" or something to that effect. (No Spanish is not a language I have any sort of fluency in.) Seriously, these kids would just walk into our house and ask for candy. Had to start locking the doors and pretending not to be home in order to get any peace.
This is all beside the point. I could do a long post on all the weird that went down at that flat, actually it's part of a book I started writing way back then which continues to sit incomplete on my computer along side quite a few other beauties. One of these days... But I really will focus. The point is, Jessie got me hooked on Denise. There is something about this woman who is now in her fifties and still looks and moves like she's 25 fhat is positively infectious. She has some of the best catch phrases EVER!
"If you don't squeeze it, no one else will."
"Burn that butter."
"Shuffle, Shuffle, Shuffle, Squat."
"You'll look GREAT in a bathing suit."
Just a few faves there. She does it all with a smile. Workouts that make my whole body burn, and the air come in little painful bursts from my body, and she smiles and chats just like you're sitting in a cafe drinking coffee. It's the sort of thing that would generally make me want to slap a person, but you just gotta love Denise.
Beyond all these things, she manages to make every move she makes look like she's dancing. I don't care if it's kick boxing, or basic stretches, the woman has moves! Sadly, I just don't. I'm sure that if anyone actually were to watch me through the lace curtains on the fourth floor (which I swear is literally - and thankfully - impossible) they couldn't help but laugh.
Right now I'm still just trying to get a basic handle on the new routiens. I'm sure that in a few weeks, if I manage to keep it up, I'll at least look slightly less like a bumbling idiot. I'll figure out where she's going next, and hopefully my body will respond in a positive way to the exercise in order to counteract all the heavy greasy food we eat around here. I don't care what people say about American cuisine (or lack thereof) the Czech's definitely know how to lay it all on thick. From creamy sauces and hearty dumplings, to fried cheese and krokety, my only hope is that Denise will keep my rear in gear, even if she can't make me svelt and graceful.
Just a little heads up here at the end, we're heading to Germany this afternoon for the weekend. Time to wrap my mind back around language number three. I did manage to send birthday greetings on the phone to our niece Jenny who just turned 11. Quite a feat actually. At least in person you can rely on body language, but talking on the phone has to be one of the most challenging skills to master.
So, language overload, here we come. Should be good fun. :)

Jet Lat? Or Something Like It...

2011-12-07T22:09:00.000-08:00

Can you still call it jet lag after more than a week? I'm beginning to feel oddly suspicious that it is simply a deranged new sleeping pattern. I can remember times flying back from Hong Kong, typically an emotional mess, that I would go more than thirty hours without sleep and then turn into a gooey mess of time flipped confusion that seemed to go on for ages. Typically this was because I coddled to myself. If I felt tired I let myself sleep. Worse yet, I would let myself sleep whenever I felt like it for as long as my body felt like sleeping. Rookie mistakes that spread the adjustment process out for far too long.
I no longer have any excuses. I am no novice flyer. Okay, so it's not like I'm some sort of world traveling journalist or something, but I've done my fair share of getting around the planet. I know that, while it's fine to sleep as much as you want on a flight, when you arrive the goal is to stay up as late as humanly possible, then wake up when your body prompts you in the morning, regardless of how early that may be, and then press on actively all day until you collapse into sleep at the end of a long day at a reasonable hour. It's not an easy thing to do, but if followed the system works. This is especially true on holiday trips when you have only a couple of weeks to enjoy whatever distant land you have come to discover.
However, this trip is not like that. We have three months. That's almost enough time to be sloppy about it. If we spend a week in mindless self indulgence, we aren't going to waste our entire trip. There is still time to go into town and bask in the golden glow of the ancient spa hotels. The oplatky isn't going to all be consumed without us. The trains will still be there.
Then there's the whole issue of the snow. It's not really piling up just yet, but in a short lap around the house with Katcha the other night, I came in completely covered in white. It's sort of messy and all tied in with cold and wet, two things that have never been my faves.
At the same time, another thing that has never been my favorite, is the early morning. True, when I was a tiny tot I would miraculously wake up before 7 every Saturday morning in order to curl up in front of the television and watch the fuzz until the cartoons would be begin. The house was generally still asleep, except maybe for Dad, and I would keep the volume so low that it required me to sit within a few feet to hear anything at all. And I can't deny that Redding sunrises are a spectacular sight to behold, but I was always more than happy to curl back up in bed after witnessing them during my work mornings in college.
Anyone who knows me very well at all, or who has ever seen, or even worse HEARD me in the mornings is well aware that they just don't do it for me. I'd rather stay awake until 5 AM than get up at that heinous hour. But that is exactly what I have been doing. True, this is largely due to my sweet husband, who doesn't have my strict rules about getting over jet lag having only made this back and forth journey once in his life, and has been taking long afternoon naps that sometimes stretch until 3AM and then being fully awake through all those early morning hours. On both Tuesday and Wednesday he came in cheerfully at 5 and informed me that it was morning and therefore time to get up. The pitch blackness beyond the lacy curtains was more than enough to convince me that he was a liar. Mornings are supposed to be about warm sunlight stealing gently across the floor and sweetly nudging me into wakefulness. Apparently not any more.
While I was able to groan and squeal, and mostly convince him that what he was doing was sick and wrong, the damage was done. I was awake. The fact that his parents were up and getting ready to head off to work didn't make escaping back into blissful oblivion any easier. So on both occasions, by 5:45 or so, I gave up. Sure, it's true, you can get stuff done in the morning. I caught up in my journal, finished reading a book, and got back into my Denise Austin exercise videos. These are good things. They make it easier to be at least slightly energized and ready to go by 9 AM when I've been beginning work on my book writing.
Unfortunately, it also means something more sinister. By 8 PM I find myself getting downright groggy. 8. P. M. This is NOT okay in my book. Not even a little bit. So I know people who put their toddlers to bed that early, but I scarcely remember a time when 9 was not my earliest bedtiem. And I didn't even go to sleep right then. That was when Dad would start reading to us, not to mention prayer time that I always tried to stretch out as long as possible with the hope that he would fall asleep on the floor meaning I wouldn't have to fall asleep in the room alone. This was in large part because my dad IS a morning person.
Anyhow, I've been using whatever devices I can to keep myself up just as long as possible, but it's depressing to find myself falling asleep before ten, completely unable to keep my little eyes open. Then, this morning, my body had the audacity to wake up at 5 AM of it's own accord! Talk about total rubbish. I put off turning my lamp on until 5:30. The other half of the bed was already empty, seeing as how he had slept through most of the afternoon and evening, and had only come in for a little visit between 2 and 2:30 when he have up completely and went back to watching TV in the other room.
I'm really hoping a pattern isn't being established here that will run on for very long. Eventually I'm going to need to be up at night. It's just a must for my general well being. So for the state of my nerves, I think I'm just going to keep calling this jet lag a little bit longer and hope it all evens out in the right direction soon.

Maybe It's a Touch of Pixie Dust

2011-12-07T09:59:00.000-08:00

Driving around through the Czech Republic might look a lot like crusing through the Willamette Valley of Oregon, but there is a distinct difference. Nestled amongst the forested hills, beside the resting fields, and tucked securely in river bends are ancient villages (not small towns but definitely villages) where ancient cathedrals stand with spires sparkling in the sun, and castles make apperances along teh way. It jsut isn't something you can compare to America. It makes this place seem other worldly somehow.
It's hard to explain just how enchating this place can be. I have yet to visit any of these fascinating places since my arrival. I guess knowing we'll be here for three months has us moving a little more slowly than we would if we were only here for two weeks. There's also the fact that for my Love, this is just home. Fantastic, wonderfully glorious, home. He is more than content to curl up in the room of his childhood and just be here.
Much as I love it, I want a little bit more. I want to go out and explore. I want to take my ancient digital camera and discover new details. I want to feel that I'm having a European experience, not just spend all day in our little room here. (sigh)
I know we will do more as the days go by, but it has started snowing, and that makes it less than appealing to just wander about on my own. Snow can be lovely, don't get me wrong, but with no personal mode of transportation except my own feet, the idea of just going anywhere means being cold and wet. Not really my favorite things.
On the positively bright side of things, I've really been getting back to the challenge. After a week of not feeling capable of holding on to any type of schedule, I've spent the past two days writing seriously. Due to some complications in transferring the data from my macbook to my iPad, I'm not able to track how many pages I've written, but I'm gonna guess it's quite a few :) And the magic of this place seems to be working for my story as well. I'm not quite ready to hand out details just yet, but living in a fairy tale sort of land lends itself well to the task at hand.
I've been working on preparing some pictures to post, because I know that is far more interesting than miles of basic text, but for some reason I haven't figured out how to get the computer to hook up to the internet, so for now, I'll just end this post with some suspense. Maybe there will be pictures next time...maybe there won't.

Making Christmas, Making Christmas, Making Christ-mas, It's Czech This Time...

2011-12-05T09:46:00.000-08:00

First line of business this morning? Making Czech Christmas cookies with my mother-in-law. Now I woke up around 7:30, thinking I should still have a decent amount of time to get ready for the cooking plan, but by 8:30 when I'd finished my journal writing and getting dressed, she already had things well in progress.
Perhaps before I get any farther under way I should explain a couple of things.
Thing One: The Czech Christmas Cookie Tradition
Czech's really go all out with their holiday cookie making. Yeah, we like cookies and other sweets at the holidays in the US too, but here it's a big deal. When I was teaching my students would start talking about how they were already making cookies for Christmas a good month in advance. The cookies, or cukrovy, are really something special. Most people make a number of different varieties, I think we have four or five here this year. They're tiny little delicacies, more mouthfulls than the American variety, and are passed out as gifts and shared at parties and consumed in mass quantities at home.
Thing Two: My Mother-in-law
She's really quite a wonder. She's a full time nurse and an immaculate house keeper. After a long day at work the first thing she does when she comes home is to clean. As spotless as the place looks to me, she always seems to have this need to make it even cleaner. She reminds me a lot of my Grandma in that sense. Everything she does, she does to perfection. Cooking, cleaning, and her other passion - shopping - are all perfectly executed.
So back to my story, I got up thinking I could really learn something today about making Czech Christmas cookies. I was all set. I had my iPad prepared to write down recipes and serve as a translator when necessary, as well as taking photos to better illustrate what was going on. However, there wasn't really anything left to mix up when I got there. I still got to help, but it was beyond any point of actually learning what went into them, so in the future I guess I'll just have to look up recipes and figure it out on my own.
The first thing she had me do was pipe a nougat paste onto some nutty crescent cookies. At first I thought it was going to be a filling, but once they were all topped with the cream she put them out on the balcony (this is what she uses instead of refrigerator space) to cool and harden. Later on in the afternoon they were topped with a chocolate drizzle, but I missed out on that bit. At least I played some small part in their creation.
Okay, so I've just discovered that for some unknown reason my iPad doesn't want to let me upload photos to my post. I'm really not certain why, I mean I even figured out how to do it on my phone, but for now I guess this is going to be a rather bland post. I have some fun photos too :( Ah well.
Guess I'll just have to make do with words. The next cookies we worked on were my favorite ones. They are pretty similar to sugar cookies. I was responsible for rolling them out and cutting the shapes. It was fairly easy at first, but as the dough got softer and softer it became really difficult to get it to hold together. The very last shape Anna had to do for me because after I don't know how many pans of cookies I just couldn't make the last one come out in one piece. They only cook for about five minutes until they're lightly brown. She was in charge of the cooking and cooling bit, and she commented on how thankful she was to have me helping because it really makes it easier to manage it all.
Two more things I should add:
Thing One: my mother-in-law speaks no English.
Thing Two: despite having already baked cookies all morning there was no evidence of any dirty dishes becasue she just keeps it that clean. This isn't any huge American kitchen. I can just hear the annoying chicks on House Hunters complaining about how small the galley style kitchen is and how they'd never manage to do anything there, but she does it all and keeps it spick and span. Yes it can be done.
While keeping the cookies cooking, she also boiled off the skins of a huge bowl of almonds. She talked about making a final kind of cookies, but if she did them today it was while I was out with Mark and his friend so I wasn't involved.
The cookies we were working on had to cool and were later filled with jam and closed together, then were finished off with chocolate drizzle on top. The first pan we cooked I'd just been cutting shapes at random, but then she pointed out that there have to be an even number because they're little sandwiches. We really managed to communicate quite well, or at least she communicated and I did my best to keep up. She also made sure to separately bake the ones I didn't roll out thinly enough from the ones that were the proper thickness. She didn't actually point it out to me, but I noticed and was glad she was the one in charge.
In the end, we have a great little collection of cookies. She told me that most Czech women these days don't take the time to make the cookies and buy them at the store instead. We both agreed that the store bought variety are not nearly the quality of homemade.
Overall, it was a great practice for me, even though I still have no idea how to make them on my own. The plan is for me to continue cooking with her to learn how to make other traditional Czech dishes. Next time I'll just have to be sure what time she's going to start so I can actually be awake for it. :)

And Now I'm Here...

2011-12-02T11:04:00.000-08:00

Things change. That's just part of this life that we live. Things change, and yet there are so many things that stay the same. Perhaps being in Europe provides a greater sense of that. After all, here you can see buildings that have been around for much longer than my home country. They whisper the memories of those long gone, yet even in their seeming permanence, they too have changed, become decrepit whispers of former granduer.
It is good to be back in Czech. There is something here that feels like home. I have such a strange sense of home really. Little pockets around the world fill me with a sense of belonging, a memory of long days passed in familiarity. All around the world these home thoughts call to me. Horse Creek, Blodgett, Redding, Hong Kong, Salem, even Eagle River and Moscow, not to mention Cheb and Marianske Lazne. It makes me wonder if there will ever be a place that can pull them all together and feel like my home in the moment. It all gets so complicated.
Anyhow, we made it safely here on Wednesday evening. The eight hour flight from Seattle to London literally flew by. There wasn't nearly enough time to watch all the movies I wanted to see and sleep as well. After a three hour layover at Heathrow airport, we zipped on over to Prague. One moment US the next CZ. Crazy now fast it all happens. It didn't really feel real until we were there.
The rest of the night was a bit blurry. The car ride home, the Czech meal at a restaurant in Plzen (the place I first ate with Mark and his parents together) then more driving. I slept a lot of the time to be honest. We arrived safely and unpacked, then later we headed out to see one of Mark's friends. By the time we got to bed it was ultra late and any hope I might have had of being on a sleeping schedule was out the window. It was all made even worse the next morning. I know better, I really do. It's not like this is my first time or anything. But after waking up around 6:30, I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore by 11:30 and I slept about 3 hours. Um, stupid much? (sigh)
Anyhow we spent a quiet day on Thursday just trying to recouperate. We didn't really even go out much at all, just a brief trip down to the nearest store. I decided to keep myself up as long as possible in order to get into a schedule. So I went to bed around 12:30 or so, thinking I'd try to even things out. I wanted to sleep til my eyes popped open so I could start fresth. The only problem was, my eyes popped wide open at 11:30 AM. I slept like 11 hours! I honestly have no idea if I've ever slept that long in my life except when really sick.
Well, I had other things I was going to say, but this got interrupted and I lost the thread so I think I'll leave this as it is and try to post more regularly to keep up the flow. Posdravuju na Ceske Republiky ;)

Short timer

2011-11-23T12:26:00.000-08:00

I've come to the point again where I'm a short timer. It always puts me in a strange mood. Regardless of the life change, it's always somewaht disconcerting. I'm back in the land of the unemployed. My future is once again up in the air. Having always been the sort of person who enjoys a certain amount of control over things, a wide safety net and all of that, I have to admit I'm a bit uneasy. I'm sure things will all work out, and of course I'm excited about the travel that's about to happen, but it's hard not to let the concerns and worries of this life crop up.
For some reason I'm suddenly reminded of this article in one of my old English teaching books about this man who just decided to give up everything and live in the woods. He still had a job, still had friends and family, but he slept in the woods in his one suit and that was pretty much it. I'm not sure what all he was trying to prove, but the fact of the matter is that he did it. He went out and just slept on the ground and cooked food in a pot over a fire like a classical hobo. Of course he also still had connections to technology and wrote a blog about it as well. I just can't imagine having that sort of dream.
Granted, it's equally hard for me to imagine the life I see lived on HGTV. These young couples just starting out and buying expensive homes that I could never even concieve of being able to afford. They nit pick about absoultely everything. I saw an episode of "House Hunters International" where this girl was moving to Abu Dhabi, and she kept complianing about the tile on the floors, like that having ugly floors would ruin her entire experience there. Still a lot better than sleeping on the ground, right?
I know I'm not likely to be buying a house or sleeping on the ground anytime soon, it's just that my head is a bit of a mess. I have to pack, both for my trip and also for moving, and my motivation is at an all time low. I'm not really even sure why. I just can't manage to get myself to get anything done. I just want to play with my iPad, or read a book, or stare mindlessly out the window. I've been getting little things done. I've finally finished my thank you cards, but I still have wedding pictures I need to send to people. All these little things that aren't hard to do, but I can't seem to get them done. (sigh)
Anyhow, I am excited about the trip. It will be lovely to be in Czech again; to see family and friends, to experience the culture and the history, to eat a few different kinds of food (much more for Mark's benefit than mine) and just to get a different view of life. I just wish my bags would pack myself, my life would magically get itself in order, and my motivation would return with the boundless energy of a three year old. I know, asking a lot, but a girl's gotta try.

Two Weeks Notice...

2011-11-08T10:03:00.001-08:00

I feel like my job status is endlessly in transition these days as well. Right after getting my promotion, I've now had to give my two weeks notice that I'm quitting. I don't regret taking the job for the short term. It has helped the store out, as well as providing me with more hours, higher pay and a greater range of job experience over the past couple of months. Of course the fact that I've worked CLOSE every single day that I've had this job is pretty annoying. Okay, that's slightly wrong. I was the mid shift one day I think. But otherwise I've had to close by myself since I started working in the Moscow store. That's not exactly cool. Especially since previously I was working only in the mornings.
I haven't actually talked to the store manager yet, that'll come today in a few hours (ugh) but I told the assistant manager. She fully understood, and I think I should still be able to get a good reference, as well as possibly being able to get a job at the same store over in Oregon when we come back. Not sure if I really want that, but it's always good to have options.
So two weeks from Saturday (that's Nov 19th) I'll work my final shift. While I'm totally ready to move on, and really excited about our trip back to Czech, it's also a bit nerve wracking to know that I'll be unemployed once more. Not really my favorite way to be. I pretty much abhor having everything up in the air. I like plans, and having everything lined up and in place. Right now I'm looking at a black hole sort of future again, and, quite frankly, that freaks me out.
It's one of those times when I have to pull back again and remind myself that God is in control, and while I don't have all the answers, he certainly does. I know the road might still be far from easy, but He will make all things right in His perfect timing. Just have to count on that to get me through.
Which reminds me, I got an absolutely lovely gift box from my friends Amy and Nate. Included in the box was a book about Creative Worship from my old church in Hong Kong, The Vine. It's a great workbook, focused on using all aspects of creativity to worship God. I really appreciate that it stresses how music is not the only outlet we can use for worship. This is especially poignant since the main author of the book is married to the music leader at the church. Anyhow, quite a few of my friends were involved in the project, and I'm so excited to see how God will use this book in my life. It's been a hard and strange disconnected sort of year. I feel unsettled and distracted at best, so it's great to revive a little focus in my life.
Here's to the next chapter about to begin...

Secret's in the Sauce...

2011-10-31T21:27:00.000-07:00

Here's just a little glimpse into what I did for Halloween. And you???

Fighting Another Lackluster Lifestyle

2011-10-25T15:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the pictures on this post aren't going to be exactly where inwanted them I'm posting from my phone with photos for the first time and must apologize for the outcome. Ah well, if you readto the end it will eventually make sense. :)

It is easy to be dull. It is simple to fall into a repetitive pattern of life. Even when life seems enjoyable, there is the threat of compalsency which leads to a lack of joy. I am not the best example of always finding the good in my situation. I've always wanted to be the type of person who can really take each day and live it out well. But sometimes I'm just not very good at that. Failing miserably might be a more apt description.

I had the day off today. Naturally that meant I slept in. This is something which I enjoy even if it doesn't mean taking advantage of every moment the day has to offer. In my defence, I went to sleep some time after 1 AM. That's beside the point, but whatever. Mark and I went for a little drive because the weather was gorgeous, but it was also very cold, and he wasn't feeling great, so we came back early. Then I started watching TV. I had a fairly good excuse, Mark was borrowing (in fact still is) my computer, so I can't work on my book, but there was a strong temptation, despite the obvious glory of this crisp fall day, to just spend the whole day on the couch. It's not the sort of thing I'm typically good at, generally I can scarce sit still, but today I thought it possible. Instead, after lunch and two episodes of the 'entalist, I went for a walk.

Capturing the beauty of autumn has long been a passtime for me. There were no castles or other ancient ruins to catch my eye this time, but I found a few good shots none the less. This is the first time I'm going to try nposting ohotos from my phone because my camera battery is dead and Mark has my computer still, so we'll see how it goes.

Oh How We Love to Wander

2011-10-24T09:54:00.000-07:00

There isn't a whole lot to do in Moscow, ID. I suppose if you're a student you have student-y things to do, but we're not students. And we're not exactly into farming either. The nearest big-ish city is about 90 miles away. With gas prices as they are, that's not exactly a welcome thought. Besides, when you don't know a city very well and don't have any friends there, it's still hard to find that many great things to do once you get there. We got to the Apple store, wander around a bit, the end.

So we've had to find ways to improvise and entertain ourselves this year. One of the main things we've done is to wander. Generally this wandering is rather aimless. We get in the car with no real idea, point in some direction, and just go. This often means bumping along on dirt roads, much to the horror of our car, but it still gets us to the mysterious where.

For those not familiar with North Western Idaho and Eastern Washington, this area is called the Palouse. It comes from some Native word, and is used to describe the rolling hills that are predominately farmland. I can't exactly say that it's my favorite backdrop for life, but there is something interesting about the layers of hills and plant life which is currently all stubbly and in shades of brown.

On Thursday I had the day off once again. We decided to take a road we had yet to discover. There are still a few of those out there. So this time we headed for Wawawai. We had no idea where this would take us, and were soon winding our way down a twisty road into a deep canyon. At the bottom we discovered a beautiful river gorge with fascinatingly layered rocky hillsides.

We stopped at a place where fisherman were taking advantage of the still waters. We felt a little funny walking around all these serious guys, but we did our best to just stay amused and ignore their obvious curiosity. Then we drove on farther and came to a place where we could walk up into the hills a bit.

It's really quite amazing to me what you can discover when you just wander a bit. Here are these places full of beauty and intrigue, and they're literally just a short drive away, but without just going for it, we would never have discovered them. I can think of so many times in my life when I have lived near really incredible nature, but haven't ever gotten around to visiting it. So while we may often complain that we aren't living in the greatest place on the planet, as least we're going out there and seeing what there is to see.

Fire Chasers

2011-10-19T22:57:00.000-07:00

Even before there's a scent on the wind
It begins to billow
Floating heavily upward
A shadow on the horizon.

We fix our eyes upon the growing tower
All questions, concerns and curiosity,
With breath held wondrously
Following the smoke.

Over hill, round perilous bends,
A mythological undertaking
To discover the source
And decipher the meaning.

A spark of flame was in the trees,
Glowing yellow and orange
Bathed in green
But this was not the fire.

We race and ramble on rocky paths,
Searching frantic
Until at last
We drive away unanswered.

Yesterday we set out on what ended up as a wild goose chase. As we drove around enjoying a sunny fall afternoon, we spotted the smoke rising and thought we'd give it a chase. It was a rather adventurous ride, but we never actually made it anywhere close to the blaze. All the same, it was worth it.

The birds sensed the danger and flew wildly.

We could tell we were on the right path as we flitted through the fields.

We drove through the forest and found great beasts.

And other wild creatures.

Then we took a break to look for gold which we also didn't find, but there were some interesting photo ops...

What mysterious stones.

And haunted flowers.

As well as some other lovely green leafy things.

And a little bit of posing as well.

And though we never found the fire we ended it off with a beautiful rainbow.

The Slice Saga Continues

2011-10-16T23:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I let it sit. I avoided water. I kept it safe. I'll confess, I was a wee bit afraid of what I might find if I opened it up. Today, that was no longer an option.
I did my best to cover it for my shower, but in the midst of it all, the water began to leak in. I looked down and suddenly discovered that the little bit of plastic bag I'd taped on was full of blood. Hmmm... definitely not so good.
I tend to pride myself on being pretty tough. I mean, I broke my back when I was thirteen and didn't even cry. That has to count for something. Generally blood isn't a huge issue for me, but every now and then...well, it just is. For instance there was the time in Hong Kong when I was taking a baby to the hospital and things didn't turn out very well. I was doing my best to keep little Tsz Ching quiet and calm while they squeezed individual drops of blood out of her hand, and thought it was going okay. then I started to feel a little woozy. Next thing I knew there were strangers waking me up. To make a long, and rather amusing story short, I passed out and hit the floor so hard that I broke the frame of my glasses into my head and had such a serious concussion that a week later I was still hardly able to do anything but sleep.
Back to this morning, I thought I was doing okay with the sight of the blood, but then I had to deal with actually taking off the bandages. It was not just painful, it was downright disgusting. When you bleed enough to soak through five bandages there's a lot of blood just hanging out. The farther I went the more light headed I got. In the end I can count at least 5 maybe 6 times when I nearly passed out and had to literally curl up in a ball on the floor until the nausea and spinning stars passed.
In the end I did get down to the skin. It was far from pretty, but I think it should heal up all right. Even if I had gone to the doctor I probably would have just gotten a butterfly bandage.
I survived another evening of work, and now we're watching some Cesko Slovenska Ma Talent (Czech and Slovakia have Talent). Good fun. It'll really help to prepare me for being culturally in tune when we head back at the end of next month.

Slice

2011-10-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

Well, I seem to have survived my first week in my new managerial position. Kind of got thrown to the wolves a bit, but all the people I work with know a lot more about the closing shift than I do, and they're pretty much fantastic, so it wasn't all that difficult. Still not overly thrilled with the new timing of it all. I've found myself staying up later, but also enjoying the ability to roll over and fall back to sleep maybe a little too much. Rather defeats the purpose of the 7:30 alarm when I don't manage to pull myself out of bed until 8, or 8:30, or, um 9:30 as it was by the end of the week. Slowly those few precious writing hours become a thing of the past and I'm back to the procrastinating fool I've so sadly become.
But with all things, once I get the hang of it this new schedule will also become routine. Especially seeing as how I'm working closing pretty much the whole month. Oh the joy.
Things were rolling pretty well by last night. I'd made it through a week, and had managed to get basically everything completed that I was supposed to do. I was in the midst of throwing out the trash when, suddenly, SLICE! And we're not just talking a little scrape. We're talking a chunk of flesh literally hanging off my finger followed by a lovely gushing of blood. It didn't hurt all that much, but that might mean it's because it was really deep/clean. Hmmm...
Anyhow, I quickly relocked and started the trash compactor. Did you know it's a crime to run a trash compactor if you're under the age of 18. Federal. Seriously. I can understand safety first and all, but a crime? Wee bit silly, don't you think. Reminds me of how a customer said she was old enough to still remember when she was free in America...Do we maybe underestimate the ability of people to generally make wise decisions most of the time and not need laws to tell them how to live life? Just an idea.
That really rumbled into an aside awfully quickly. I've been thinking of writing a piece on Stream of Consciousness recently. Might be fun. Anyhow, back to the story at hand, or more appropriately, the story of my hand. I rushed to get a bandage as the blood really started to spurt out. I continued on to the bathroom, and a colleague kindly opened the door for me. The blood was really flowing freely by then and I rinsed it off as much as I could stand. If I let it be it didn't hurt to much, but even the most minimal water pressure was excruciating.
I tried to staunch the bleeding and dry myself up a bit with some toilet paper - no paper towels in our restroom. It helped a bit, but the blood just kept coming so I wrapped the bandage on. By the time I got out of the restroom to the fitting room (the hall is about fifteen/twenty feet long) blood was already oozing out of the bandage. Not so good.
I added a second, then a third. Pretty picture, eh? Of course then I was called up to a register. I helped a couple people, and by then those bandages were getting filled up. In all I ended up with five plasters wrapped tightly around my right index finger. Even now, under the puffy wrappings, the blood is visible, but it the last one was pretty tight so it helped to slow it down. I can honestly say I've never soaked through even one bandage before. It was quite disturbing.
And get this. We had our safety lunch today. Celebrating almost 600 days accident free. I couldn't very well end the winning streak. Basically, as long as I don't have to go to the doctor we're still good to go. It's been more than 24 hours now, but I'm still not quite brave enough to cut off all the layers and see what's going on inside. I'll give it a little more time and maybe then...
On that note, I'm thinking of making the bloody finger cookies I read about in Rachel Ray for our staff Halloween dessert potluck on the 31st. I imagine I can have a pretty decent picture to go by.

Scheduling Challenges

2011-10-12T09:53:00.000-07:00

I've never been a morning person. Well, unless you count Saturday mornings during childhood where my body always managed to wake up before 7 AM. I'd curl up on the floor under a blanket, inches from the TV with the sound turned down so low it couldn't possibly disturb anyone and watch the colorful lines or just plain fuzz until cartoons would officially start. But that was being alert and awake for something enjoyable. I usually ended up being the first person awake at retreats in the Czech Republic as well, but that was because those rotten beds were all so hard that I couldn't sleep. Besides, being up early meant I had a nice chance to wander through the countryside alone and collect my thoughts before having to deal with a bunch of noisy and excitable Americans :)
The point to this trip down early morning memory lane, is that my new job has taken a turn with my scheduling. Over the past few months I've mostly been working early morning shifts. This is also nothing new for me. I worked as early as 5:15 AM doing janitorial work in college, and when I worked at the mill my shift also started at 7 AM just like stock did here. I can do mornings, I just don't really like them. Now everything has changed. All this week I'm working closing. We're talking 1:30 to 9:30. That's a big change.
Part of me likes this. I can sleep in. I don't have to force myself out of bed when it's still dark, and try to make friendly with people before the friendly light comes on inside my head. But the truth is, it's not a great schedule. Even if I do manage to get up early enough to get something done in the morning, the whole time I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting to go to work. And there's never that feeling of, "Work is over, and now I can just relax." When you get home at 9:30 or 10 all you want to do is kick back. How do you get things done at that time of day? It just doesn't happen for me. We watch a little TV, maybe play some Foosball, but that's about it.
My goal right now, considering my writing challenge and all, is to get some writing done in the mornings before I go to work. But life is full of distractions. It's hard to settle in and feel like I can really get much done. There is this never ending need to create excuses, rather than actually come up with something. I've got about 17 pages written or so, but every time I think I'm about to really get somewhere with it something comes up and I don't get to finish, or it's suddenly time to shovel down some food, change my clothes and go to work. I really want to complete this on time, but I can already see that I'm going to be just scraping by. Unfortunately, being the lowest person on the totem pole at the moment, it looks like this is the schedule I'm going to have to learn to deal with for the next couple months. Guess I just have to see how it all plays out, and fight with myself to find some way to get it all done.

The Challenge

2011-10-06T21:41:00.000-07:00

Technically, I suppose you could say I'm putting things off. My blog is not some sort of money producing tool. Sure, every now and then I look at the "monetize" tab at the top of my display and wonder... At the moment I have a massive "10 followers," whatever that means. Not quite sure I'll amass a great and grand following even amongst family and friends. Do they know I have a blog? Yes. Do some of them check it at least fairly regularly? Sure. But that's about as far as it go. All the same I keep coming back, feeling some urge to write about this life of mine in a public format. Silly me. Perhaps it's because I know no one will ever be able to read my journals. I want some sort of proof that I existed in legible form. It's a thought.

But back to the challenge topic.

It's wonderful to have someone who believes in your dreams. This is especially true when you have trouble believing in them yourself. Naturally with the death of someone as memorably visible in most American if not international households as Steve Jobs, everyone is thinking about creative genius, and watching the you tube video of his speech to look for inspiration. If you haven't taken the time to sit down and listen, it really is worth it. His thoughts on living life to the fullest and being who you really are have a spine tingling effect.

I'm not expecting to wake up some morning and find myself suddenly in possession of a great financial fortune. I don't buy lottery tickets, and the likelihood of all those Publishers Clearinghouse ad things I file ever paying off...well, let's just say it's unlikely. But I do have dreams. I have dreams of writing something that people will read. I have dreams of using the gift I've been given to share with people in some way. However, except for the people who know me well, or those who randomly happen across my internet ramblings, I'll never achieve any of those goals if I don't just sit down and write something. And beyond that, if I remain afraid and never send my writing out, no one is going to just come to me and say, "Hey Sarah, I was thinking that maybe you'd like me to take all those stories from inside your head and make them into books that people can hold in their hands or read on their handheld devices." It. Just. Won't. Happen.

I suppose the easiest thing to do is to just have a dream. You can take it out and pet it every once in a while. You can blow on the dying embers in a moment of passionate thought, and be warmed by the very idea of your dreams. But they won't get you anywhere if you don't act on them.

I can be very like Alice. "I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it." Lewis Carroll, for all his undoubtedly drug tripping ways, really knew how to pack a punch, or speak directly to my problem. I'm loaded with thoughts and ideas. I have advice to hand out in bunches to anyone who asks. When it comes to my personal life goals and dreams, however, I get all tripped up and fumbly.

As I mentioned before, it's really good to have someone who believes in your dreams. My wonderful husband is just that person. He has done everything in his power to try to inspire me to write. He comes at it from different angles than I would, and there are times when i just don't know how to take his advice, but I know he gives it because he loves me and he wants to see me really live. He wants to see me achieve the dreams that he knows are in my heart.

So this past weekend when we were away for a couple of days he gave me a challenge. It was a serious challenge, and not one to be taken lightly. I even went so far as to shake on it, turning it into a promise. Breaking promises? Really NOT my thing. On October first he gave me 90 days to write a novel. NINETY DAYS. That's not a whole lot. Now, there will still be room for editing and revising and all that jazz, but on January first he wants me to have a completed manuscript. And if I follow through, he has promised to do everything he can to help me with the marketing aspects, which is an area I where I really struggle.

Challenge accepted, now to get down to it. For the past few days I've been mulling things over. I've always got a little back stash of story ideas floating around. He told me it couldn't be something I've already been working on. I have at least two novels that I've made a considerable amount of headway with, and could easily tie up over the next three months. But no, this has to be something all new.

I believe I've finally settled on the winner, and now I just have to get it done. I know it won't be easy. I know, especially with my new job challenges, that most days I'll feel like I have no time, and no drive to get it done. But there are to be no excuses on January first. The new year is going to start with something big.

Failure is something that scares me to the very core. I've always done everything in my power not to fail. Every new rejection eats away at me and makes me curl up in the fetal position. I don't know if I'll be able to whip out Pulitzer Prize material, or even something worthy of a Newberry Honor Medal, in 90 days. That's not the point. Writing is one of those things that is stitched into the very fabric of my being. Now I just have to prove to him and to myself that I really can put my actions where my mouth is.

Here's to the challenge!

Lincoln City

2011-10-05T10:34:00.000-07:00

Friday marked the end of something. I've had a lot of jobs. I've worked with a lot of people. There is always a melancholy feeling that bubbles up in me when things change. I'm still going to be working at the same place. I'll still be seeing the same people on most days, but Friday was the last day working behind the scenes in our lovely little stock room. I'll miss the boxes of fresh new clothes (okay, so sometimes they smell funny and are made of really strange fabrics, but you get the picture) all my responsibility to prepare for the public.

This week I'm spending time in another town learning how to fulfill my new lower management role. There is a lot to learn. I have to smile and greet people more, have that real public face. It's not that I haven't had that sort of meet and greet position before, but it's a change from being able to just hide out in the back. A growing experience, and lots of valuable training for the future, but exhausting as well. Especially since I have to drive 35 miles each way to get this training. I'll be glad when the week is over.

Obviously none of this is about the title of the post, but it's all connected. With the job change it's likely that weekends won't really be an option anymore. Sure, I'll still get a couple days off during the week, but it won't be as it was. I now have the joy of working evenings and weekends. It's the sort of thing that really messes with my head. When I work in the evening I don't feel like I have any time off at all. I'm just sitting around waiting for work to start. Not my favorite situation, but nothing really new either. All my overseas jobs have required this sort of schedule as well. It's just that there I was living some place cool...

Anyhow, we wanted to take advantage of the last weekend free, so we headed off to McMinnville. Our February trips to the Oregon Coast still hadn't left our minds, and we wanted to reclaim those memories. We'd been hoping to get over to the beach during the summer, but it just didn't happen, so we made do with an early October trip. In truth, the Oregon Coast in the summer isn't really much warmer than it was this past weekend, so it wasn't such a bad deal. It's not like it's ever really warm enough to just jump into the ocean without totally freezing.

Thankfully, this time around, the weather wasn't all that bad. It wasn't exactly hot, but it wasn't raining, or windy, or cold. Lincoln City is a town that has always been a part of my life. When I was a kid my grandparents had a beach house there and my siblings and I used to spend a week or so there with them every summer. We always went to the same beach where we would be warned never to turn our backs on the ocean, and were seldom allowed to step into the water beyond our ankles.

This time we found a beach I'd never been on before. We walked along the sandy shore and enjoyed some of the spectacular views that keep people coming back to the Oregon Coast despite the less than desirable weather patterns.

We made our way all the way down to a little pier where people were catching crabs. We walked around the pier for a while, watching as the crabs that were too small were tossed back into the waves.

We also discovered some interesting sea life. It's always fascinating to me to see the things that live in the deep, washed up on the beach. They tell tales of worlds below that we can't even fathom. We really enjoyed our little finds and they glimpse they gave us.

Orange and Unassuming

2011-09-28T20:44:00.000-07:00

They sat there still,
All round and orange and unassuming,
Nestled in big cardboard boxes,
An Autumnal premonition.

The turn in weather,
Not always received with welcome,
Echoes the assumption,
Autumn is coming.

Something in their aspect,
Their lackadaisical nestled posture,
Was warmly comforting,
This Autumn morning.

Soon life transpires,
They'll change their shape,
All fang-toothed smiles
One Autumn night.

For now they sit,
Still striped with dirt in cozy piles,
Not knowing their fate
As Autumn falls.

This morning on my drive to work, I passed by Winco in the early morning. Despite the months I've worked this job, and the past few weeks when I've managed to ride my bike to work, early mornings are still not my friends. Something about the big pumpkins poking out of their display boxes in around the sliding doors warmed me inside. Fall always promises certain things. The skies turn gray and the rain begins to soak the ground, but the trees go all ablaze in a display of the fires inside. My birthday will come (not always sure how welcome that is at this stage, but I still like presents ;). Halloween will have it's day, bringing with it some ghoulish delights and age old traditions. Then there's Thanksgiving and all the taste sensations it inspires: pumpkin pies, turkey, endless treats. And this year the promise of another round of change, both professionally and then personally. In the midst of life that is ever flying, something about those pumpkins helped my mind to settle. They reminded me of the promise that every day is new, but that there are also sweet reminders of the past, those remembered traditions, to be enjoyed. They got so in my head that I thought of them all day, and even though I wrote a post earlier today I felt the need to write again. Just had to get it out, to help memorialize the moment.

Now Entering...Full-Time...

2011-09-28T15:06:00.000-07:00

Not sure if I should be jumping up and down, or questioning what I was thinking as I venture, potentially, into the world of Full-Time retail worker. It's not all 100% official just yet, they still have to get all the big wigs to sign off their approval, but yesterday I had my interview with the "District Manager" and she seemed pretty excited to get me on the fast track to the management team. This rather surprised me since in all my other dealings with her I wasn't worth the time of day. Suddenly, I've entered into the realm of reality in her book. Ah well.
So here's how my day went yesterday. I came to work at the normal time, got started helping organize everything as it came in off the truck, and then received the call. Originally the interview was going to be at our store here in Moscow, but since things have kinda gone insane at the Lewiston store due to staffing changes, it was requested that I head over thata way. It was agreed that I could be spared at the moment by my own team, so I hurried out to my car, thinking that I'd just do the interview, maybe help them out a wee bit (they get their truck at 4:30 or some such ungodly hour and I figured they should be just about done by then anyway) and then be back to finish things on our end. Listened to a little Sufjan Stevens to help soothe my nerves, and headed over the mountain and down the wickedly winding road (think Walk Two Moons people)to Lewiston.
Naturally, when heading to an interview, you expect to be, well, interviewed. However, when I arrived I was informed that the person I was there to meet wasn't there after all. Instead I was instantly ushered into their stock room and expected to just pick up where I'd left off at my store. Only things weren't the same. Everything was slightly askew, as though the entire process had been tilted. Didn't exactly help to speed up my processing time. Plus, I ended up doing shoes, which I've only done a total of twice at my store. Not exactly an expert on that one. I was the chosen one for apparel, and that's pretty much where I've stayed.
Anyhow, after a couple hours of hanging I did have the interview. As stated before, it went well. While I did fumble a bit over a few questions, like why I wanted the job, etc. she seemed well enough impressed. It was quite obvious that she hadn't read my application, because when she asked about my past jobs, the list and locations had her pretty much flabbergasted. Always fun to blow people's minds with the sheer randomness of my life itinerary.
Once the interview was complete I was sent back to work. At my lunch break, where the "DM" had graciously bought pizza for those who worked late, I checked my phone and learned that my normal boss had called, begging me to come back quickly because we had 36 boxes of apparel. For those not in the know, when we have 20 we know we've got our work cut out for us. 36? That's just not even reasonable. So as soon as I helped them get their truck settled away, I hurried back to Moscow to take on a few more boxes and run them to the floor. I'll confess, I did feel a little like Superwoman today. (A much better title than the acronym insinuated when my manager dubbed me "Super Sarah." Yes, there were a few tasteless jokes tossed around that day.)
The moral of this story is, yesterday was a long day, and I'm now running rapidly down the path to full-time/management position. I wonder if this greater authority role will give me the right to start teaching grammar lessons? Just sayin.'

Food and Crafts

2011-09-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

Let me start out by saying I am NOT a food blogger. Shouldn't come as a surprise to most people. Generally speaking, food has never been my strong point. On a wedding gift card my friend Ben pointed out that I'd made the comment: "Food is Fuel." He thought I should change my outlook and see it as something exciting, invigorating, life giving. A little tough to stomach.
But since getting married, or even since Mark and I started our relationship, I've learned that food is important. Part of creating a family requires feeding them, after all. And more and more I've found myself blogging about food. Not just pretty little dishes that I threw together to feed me, or different things that I ate in restaurants, but actual food that I cooked by myself. Not to mention the fact that I've become a little obsessed with shows on the Food Network, and reading Rachel Ray magazine. But despite all I've read and watched and tried to let infiltrate my being, cooking still sorta freaks me out.
Sure, when it comes right down to it, I can make something to eat. My parents have been gone for the past week and Mark and I have neither starved, nor eaten at McDonalds. That's quite a feat considering that our first month or so of marriage we were staying in McMinnville and I bought BigMacs for Mark almost every day. But that's the sort of spending trend that was destined to end. This week he's been served a variety of egg burrito renditions involving pepperoni, not to mention countless pepperoni, butter and cheese sandwiches, and some egg salad for good measure. Still, I'm a long way from being any sort of culinary anything.
Today, Mark said he wanted something chocolate. We were out of anything specific, and so I decided to make chocolate chip cookies. Only problem: no chocolate chips in the pantry. But did I let this stop me? Normally the answer would be yes, but today I decided to do something brave, something bold. I used the internet. Wahoo! I knew we had nutella so I did a search for nutella cookies, and was blessed to find one that only required 3 ingredients. How cool is that? And how could even I possibly go wrong?
So within half an hour of so I was able to serve Mark a platter of cookies.

They're a bit on the crumbly side, and probably wouldn't suffer from having a few more ingredients, but they were even relatively moist.
To make things even more shocking, I decided to create my own variation. I added about a tablespoon of peanut butter to the mixture that was left after baking the first pan full and came up with these little buddies.

In my opinionation (little salute to "Blossom" there ;) you just can't go wrong with nutella and peanut butter. And basically I'd say I was right. While they basically fall apart as soon as you pick them up, they taste pretty fantastic, and went excellently with my Hills Bros. Mocha.
I'm pretty all over the place with the links today, but they add a little something, and I like to give credit where credit is due. As I said, I'm not any sort of expert who will tell you about the brilliant and complex combination of flavors, or the expert plating designs of a dish. It's just a mishap or a magical moment here and there in my own haphazard experiences in the kitchen.
Now on to topic number two. After all, this is my blog, my place to say what I feel like saying, and I can be as mishmashed and all over the place as I'd like. So I'm going to share a recent inspiration/project idea. I've decided, thanks to years of personal experience, to create journals. In Prague I found what might be called, found journals, on display for 300kc+. In American markets I discovered re-purposed book journals for $15+. I've also found different sites online where you can buy handmade journals like one of my current blog faves Gadanke. All of these visions have helped to inspire me with the idea that this is something I could do as well.
Over the past few weeks I've been to a lot of garage sales collecting components for this fun new project. I still have a way to go in figuring out how to really do the book re-purposing, partly because it's hard to bring myself to cut up the lovely old books, and partly because it's hard to figure out how to get the pages securely inside. But I'm working on it, and am slowly gathering ideas on that front.
The past couple of days, however, I have done a lot of work on one journal in particular. Here's a little sneak peak into what I've come up with. It would be my niece Adelia's dream journal for sure:

Beyond what I've already inserted, I want to add bits of my own poetry to some of the pages. I thought about doing famous quotes and maybe Bible verses, but I don't want to risk any sort of copyright infringement, so for now I think I'll steer clear of things like that. With my collection of photos from around the world, I'm certain that I can create unique journals and pieces of art, that hopefully other people will enjoy as well. It's a thought at least. And if no one buys them, then I'll always have the chance to fill them myself...Perhaps at some point I'll even add creative covers using my powers of crochet, or include original artwork by Haley. Always best to incorporate family, right?
The writing dream is not dead. It still resides here in my head. But life proceeds. I just have to do my best to keep up and not go crazy in the process.

One of THOSE days...

2011-09-21T22:17:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those days when things just don't go right? It's like everything is just off kilter and bound and determined to get nothing but worse. Now, I've known a lot of people lately who've had ridiculous bad days. The kind where you wake up and expect normal, but by day's end someone you love is no longer in this world. It's been one of those years of death actually. Haven't known so many people that have died since 2003-04. (sigh) I certainly don't want to trivialize that sort of bad day with the kind I had on Saturday, but it was a doozy all the same.
It started out okay, pretty well even. Mark and I hit up some garage sales (something he's become quite fond of both hosting and visiting this summer) and we made a great find. A Foosball table in excellent condition. And not some wimpy little one, but a serious (heavy) one. So we had a little Christmas in September, and handed over the cash. It definitely wasn't going to fit in our little Milan, so we headed back to Moscow (all the sales were in Pullman today, due to the fair being the star event in Moscow this weekend) to borrow my Dad's truck.
While we were back at the house I had a little time. It felt good to sit be still for a while after getting up at 6 to check the sales, and I decided to check e-mail. I don't get much by way of exciting e-mail anymore these days. It seems most people now resort to facebook messages rather than actual letters (the paper kind obviously having fallen out of fashion years ago with the astronomical rise of stamp prices) so my inbox is mostly full of ads. It get lots from wedding sites, despite the fact that my wedding took place over seven months ago, as well as airline ticket companies, Publishers Clearing House, and different survey companies. Today, however, I got a most unfortunate e-mail that really kicked me in the stomach.
Basically I've been saying my entire life that I want to write. I've no doubt been spoiled by the praise of those near and dear to me. I got plenty of recognition in school, and figured I had a handle on the whole writing thing. Naturally, when my sister called me with the idea of joining some freelance writing website it seemed like a no brainer. I checked out a couple and was pretty excited by some of the options. Then I went to check my e-mail after having applied to a decent paying company only to receive a rejection letter.
It's not like this is my first rejection letter. When I was in High school I sent out copies of my manuscript and got a nice handful of the things, but I was aware that they were all unsolicited, and had been expecting rejection. But to have a company try to say nicely that I might have been told in the past that I could write, but it's highly competitive and I just don't have what it takes picked me up and threw me headlong over the edge. The thing is, I know I can do just about anything. Tell me what you want me to do, give me and idea of how to do it, and I'll manage. That's one of the reasons I've always been so irritated when job hunting. I know I can do these jobs, and all my previous employers will gush over me, but that doesn't mean I can manage to get an interview.
The whole episode brought me back to the day when I got a rejection letter from the Simpson acting group. The truth is, I probably would have been irritated by the sort of acting they did. It was all overly theatrical religious skits for chapel, but when I got the letter saying they felt like "God was calling me in a different direction" I was beyond crushed. I was down right angry. So angry that I wrote a letter to the club captain and informed her that she should seriously consider rewording her rejection letters because she had no right to represent herself as being equal with God when deciding what a person should do in life. The sad thing is, I haven't acted since then. Realistic or not, the entire thing put me off, and there really haven't been options since then. And I suppose you could say the rejections in high school put me off trying to publish anything, because I certainly haven't offered up a manuscript to a publisher since then.
It was just a black mark on the day. The sort of thing that's hard to shake. Mark and my parents were fabulous in trying to make me feel better and encouraging me to try again, but the truth is, a letter like that makes me lose the desire completely. Sure, there's another company that I can work for, but they pay an tiny fraction of the price and require three versions of every article. I'm the girl who didn't ever write drafts in college. They were a waste of time. Why write something over and over when you can do a great job the first time? Utterly pointless in my book. I know I should probably make myself do it, but it's really tough to force the issue.
After that it was hard to motivate myself to go and pick up the Foosball table. I wanted to sit in my chair and cry at my computer for the rest of the day. But we'd already given them the money. So we hopped in the truck and headed out. Unfortunately, the gas tank was empty so we had to put in a few gallons. I had the brilliant plan that I'd just add $10. It would be plenty to get us to Pullman and back. I asked Mark to pump for me, and I went inside to prepay. Nice idea, right? I mean, what station out there actually lets you pump before you pay without putting in your credit card first? I can't remember the last time I had that happen. Well, apparently the Moscow Chevron is a different sort of place. The trusting type you could say.
After waiting several minutes for the attendant to show up behind the counter, and then waiting a bit longer while she served the man in front of me, I was blown away when I told her to put $10 on 5 and she informed me that it was already more than that. Come again? Apparently, she'd been feeling extra helpful and just started it up without waiting to see if I was going to prepay. I rushed right out and shouted for Mark to stop the gas, but it was already up to $30. I. Was. So. Angry. I could scarcely contain myself. It was like adding expensive insult to crushed dream injury. I wanted to shout at the girl and ask her what she was going to do if all I had was $10. I mean, seriously. I was shaking and trying my best to talk politely, and assure her that I realize it wasn't her fault, nor was it Mark's fault. Most likely the whole mess was my fault. But I REALLY didn't want to throw away that much money at that moment. Not cool.
All this led to me just being a mess for the rest of the day. We got the Foosball table home, and after an immense amount of effort managed to get it into the basement. We won't talk about when it slipped out of my hands while we had it on its side to get through the door, or how my back is still not too pleased with how heavy the whole ordeal was. We just have to be happy that we have the beast. Not to mention how we had enough gas in the truck to drive up Moscow Mountain and have a romantic walk on our 7 month anniversary. (okay, so I didn't actually realize Monday was our anniversary until the next day. It also happened to be inventory day at work, meaning I was up at 4:15 AM in order to count a bunch of stuff. Not my favorite time of day.) Some days really are better to just put in the past and move on. Sadly, not everything is as easy to walk away from. I'd really been hoping the writing job could help us when we're living in Czech for three months with no jobs, and then returning to the US after, still with no jobs. Don't really have the life savings to fall back on that I had when we came back last time.
In his eloquent way, Mark reminded me that maybe this was all just God trying to wake me up from my every day life so I can start "REALLY" writing. Hard to say. For now I'm just going to do the best I can to keep on going through these days with the hope that some day it'll all come together for us, one way or another. And every day that isn't such a miserable, horrible, no good very bad day needs to be seen as a blessing. And I guess I even need to look for blessings in those icky days too. God does like to play like that every now and again, especially with me it would seem. So it goes.

Meet me at the Fair!

2011-09-16T22:04:00.000-07:00

It's fair time here in Latah county. Nothing quite like a small county fair in the heart of farming country. While know fair I've ever been to can be compared to the Leoti fair (a fair so cool they own all their own rides and only charge a quarter for each ride!) this one was quaint indeed. The fact that they still have free admission was a definite bonus, but they manage to inflate the prices of everything else so the carnies make out okay.
Before heading out tonight, Mark was a bit uncertain about the whole affair. The idea of farmer kids bringing in their prize pig, especially with the thought that the award winning prize will ring in the best price per pound, was a bit of a stretch for him. In the end, however, I think even the swine won him over.
All the classics were present and accounted for. Random booths with drawings and freebies, sheep, pigs, cows, goats, bunnies and chickens all groomed to perfection, kiddie rides and over priced impossible to win games, baked goods, art projects and random collections, and of course a hearty dose of over priced greasy food. Pretty much perfect.
After experiencing a real theme park earlier this summer, the rides didn't hold much appeal. That was probably a good thing, seeing as how it costs an arm and a leg to buy a single ticket, and each ride requires at least 3 for a 30 second ride. We did, however, break down and try a game. It's pretty incredible how they sucker you in. First, they always look easier to win than they really are. Then, even when you do win something, you could have paid twenty cents for it at 9riental trading company. The really big prizes require wasting so much money that it's purely unthinkable. But that next great payout always looks soooo close. (Sigh)
Naturally, we had to check out the chickens that Rowan and Adelia entered for judging. Rowan won Grand Champion for one of the most boring brown chickens ever. Apparently the fact that its feathers weren't bleached out was very impressive...Adelia was pretty crushed that her lovely bird didn't bring home the title, but what can you do?
Looking at the photography made me wonder why I've never entered the competition. Maybe one of these days. I've got some pretty postcard worthy shots if I do say so myself.
After the fair we celebrated payday with a trip to Starbucks where I learned that one of our regular baristas won a blue ribbon for his apricot jam. Who knew.
Well, it's been a very long week and the days when I could thrive on 4 hours of sleep are long gone so i'd best get some rest before the new day dawns and there are yard sales to attend...

Halfway point

2011-09-15T20:02:00.000-07:00

September is halfway done. Seems like only a moment ago that it just started. I remember when I was a kid thinking people were crazy when they would talk about time flying. Christmas was always forever away. Sure, I was able to make my Halloween candy last until I had to throw the last few crusty lollipops and tootsie rolls away for the fresh haul, but waiting for it to be dark enough to go trick-or-treating took AGES.
Now I find myself suddenly one of "those" people. The type that blink and find that a decade has gone by. Not even joking. College was like five seconds ago, right? How is it possible that April marked ten years since graduation. It just doesn't seem possible. But when I think about it, I know it has to be true. There was the mill, then Hong Kong, then Albany, then Hong Kong again...you get the picture.
I suppose living life by the year has something to do with this. There is such a strange balance in my life sometimes. I love to be organized, to have things under control, to know what's going to happen next. But I live on the edge. I make a life plan for a year. Then it tends to get all thrown out of whack as I make the next plan. And that's how time just freakishly evaporates.
Right now it's been the non-stop work thing that's had my days all in a tizzy. Despite still being counted as part-time, I worked so close to 40 hours (over the course of 6 days) last week, that they sent me home earlier than scheduled. Heaven forbid they'd have to be me time and a half on my paltry $7.30 an hour. This week the SRL (stock room lead) has been out sick. That means I've had to step up and fill in her role. It wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't this silly mathematical equation I'm supposed to figure out to calculate how fast everyone is working and if we're up to company standards. In a word: LAME. But otherwise it's kept me ultra busy. Then I get home and another round of demands are made on my time so that suddenly it's bedtime, due to the fact that I've been getting up at 5:40 most mornings in order to ride "the bike" to work.
I like being busy. Don't get me wrong on that point at all. When I lived in Hong Kong I thrived on sleeping as little as possible. Every moment of every day was some how taken up with people and sights and activity and the joy of life. I actually had to block out times to go to Starbucks where I could be alone (amazing how well that works out in a cafe so crowded I generally shared a table with one or two complete strangers) and get my thoughts out.
The real problem when life gets all hectic like this is that I disconnect from things. I get all caught up in a daze and have to fight to focus on anything. And I have so much trouble getting anything actually done because there is so much to do that I can't even get started on anything. (sigh) I know, whine and complain a little more already.
I'm hoping this weekend that I'll have a little time to curl up with myself and reboot. There has been a lot of sickness going around at work, and I can't deny that there are moments when I think it would be a little bit blessed to fall ill and have an excuse to just do nothing. But I know that, in the end, being sick is miserable. I don't want to be sick. I want to have a job, and to do all things well. I just also need to keep that whole balancing act in check. Like those things I wrote a few weeks ago that I'd like to be doing. They're still there, wanting me to get them done.
Perhaps in a couple of months when we head to Czech I'll manage to find a little time to pull myself together, to figure out how we're going to work things out for the next year or so. Since I won't be working, and haven't exactly been able to save anything since we've been here, it's likely that there will be plenty of down time. I guess I just have to work to keep myself all in one piece for now, and wait and see how it's all going to work out. That's the great adventure of life after all. Just take it as it comes.

Something New

2011-09-03T18:17:00.001-07:00

The truth is, I'm lazy. Not in everything mind you. I'm one of the hardest little workers you'll find in some things. Granted, when my assistant manager at work would come and ask how long it would take me to finish hanging the ten boxes of apparel on the line I'd reply in my offhand laid back manner, "I'll do what I can." At The Maids they were always going on and on about how we had to clean both faster and better at the same time. Can't really be done you see. They have to take one or the other. And while people are paying them 80 something an hour, being paid minimum wage doesn't exactly inspire a girl to go all out. But my work ethic in Italy at the age of 17 inspired my leaders to imply that I might not have been honest about my age. I take work seriously, and do my best to get the job done right. It might not move as quickly as some superhero magic number that they arbitrarily come up with, but as everyone who went to high school can attest, I don't walk slowly. It's all about hustle and get it done.
So, yeah, I can make a fast sandwich, clean a room in a flash, and hang apparel like there's no tomorrow. I even got to the point where lesson planning didn't take every spare minute of my time, but could be completed on the fly when necessary (although this is a practice I do not condone for all the first year teachers out there!)
I wouldn't exactly say that my lack of art in the kitchen is due to laziness, however. I move pretty slowly there, but it's more due to ineptitude and insecurity than laziness. Of course there's also that, not really wanting to do it bit as well...
The real heart of my laziness, the prompting for this post, however, is focused on my appearance. I wouldn't call myself a sloppy dresser. While I've often dreamed of being signed up for What Not to Wear in order to have a new high quality wardrobe become accessible to my less than worthy budget, I try to make the best of what I have. For those in the know, I was more than happy to shop at Bossini and Giordano (HK) or Kenvelo (CZ). Stateside Ross and Old Navy work out pretty well. Steps above markets and thrift stores, but a far cry from Gucci and Prada.
Slowly we arrive more to the point. Where my laziness really stands out is when it comes to...my hair. As a kid I had long stick straight hair that my mother painstakingly (mostly due to my incessant whining) brushed and braided and made gorgeous. I sat a lot better when my older sister got a hold of me I was more than happy to sit patiently for her to make me "beautiful." Makeup, hair, the whole shebang.
If I knew where they all were, I could plague you with my hair transformations throughout my growing up years. I was a child of the 80's and had my fair share of side pony tales, straight bangs, and perms, as well as waterfall bangs ratted patiently by classmates during morning recess in the Jr. High era. After a particularly heinous perm a week before the wedding of the very sister who used to care for my hair so well, I declared that I was done with them, and let my hair grow back long and with a surprising amount of actual wave. (That last add in is just for Jessie if she happens to read this...) But throughout it all, I was happy if I spent five minutes or less to get my hair, and in high school the minimalistic makeup, all in order. Five minutes is really a stretch if I must be totally honest.
My friends were always happy to perform a make over, knowing it would last that afternoon and then, the end. It wasn't that I didn't like the way they were able to make me look, it was that the time it took to figure out how to get it done for myself was always...well, just too much. So I stuck with wash and go.
In college, I took it all to new extremes. First I cut it within an inch of it's life, then later started the dying process. Red, pink, green, and four months of blue, not to mention the tropic burgundy that became the color of choice for years to come. The hair grew back, it shrunk again, kind of like yo-yo dieting.
Besides the fact that I'm lazy about doing anything to my hair, I also hate having to pay money to get it done. The maintenance on the really short cut needed to be done every 6 weeks to prevent the formation of mushroom puffs around my ears, and that was far too much for a college student to deal with, let alone an ESI teacher. So in the end I gave up and let it grow long again. Actually, in Czech I could get a cut and color for about $15 USD, which is pretty incredible, but I still only managed to get there once a year. Click here, or here for visions of my Czech hair experiences. I'm sure there are actually a few posts that deal exclusively with the topic, but I don't want to spend all day searching for them. My boss in Czech always freaked out a little bit because Regina, the hairstylist, would make my hair all beautiful, and then I would wash my hair the next morning, and that would be the end of it. She thought I should go at least a few days without washing to keep the shape. But then it gets all greasy... And several hairstylists have bemoaned the fact that, besides down, the only other way I wear my hair is in a ponytail, leaving a tragic line in my already less than exciting hair.
Yeah, I'd call my attempts with hair pretty lazy. Today, however, I went out of my way to make sure I came back with something a little different from the salon. I was in desperate need of something fresh and new. Naturally, this also led to a little unashamed photo shootage. Haven't let the poser out to play for awhile, so it was good to have an excuse :)

So it probably won't look quite the same tomorrow after I wash it and then have to put it up since I've picked up an extra double long shift smack dab in the middle of my three day weekend, but at least it's different enough from the normal shapelessness that it should be pleasant for a while.

To Write: To Breathe...

2011-09-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

There are people, unnamed of course, who would say that without publication, without national acclaim, it is unthinkable - or at the very least unrealistic - to call oneself a writer. But that only begs the point of what a writer actually is. No, I'm not a published novelist, a well paid journalist, or even a notable blogger. There are a scant few who "follow" my blog, and I get random hits that apparently come from some dentist site in Russia, but I can't claim a wide reader base. These accolades aside, I still believe that at the very heart of me a writer lives and breathes and dreams.
So what is it that makes a person a writer? Is it having a story to tell? Is it a desire to reach the masses? Is it knowing how to read the current market and figuring out how to manipulate words in order to make a profit?
There are a lot of people out there who have been granted the title of WRITER, novelist, poet, journalist, etc. I'm sure that in those categories you can find people who would answer yes to each of the above questions. But what about me?
When I was a kid I was always talking. Most of the time those "listening" to my words of wisdom or hilarity were present only in my own little head. I couldn't begin to remember what it was I felt was so important to tell them, but I was never a gifted story teller. That comes out sounding a bit off, but it's the truth. I could never just come up with an interesting story to tell when asked. Sure I can spice up tales from my own life of transience, but while my imagination soars on the page, I can't just speak it into existence. It's almost as though my fingers are an integral part of my story telling abilities, but I've never figured out how to talk with my hands except on paper.
There are plenty of things I'd like to tell the world. Sometimes it's as simple as: Grow up and figure out that life is not about you! I get sooooo fed up with this era of entitlement. It's as though people have come to the conclusion that because they were mommy's little angle, the entire world should cater to them. After all, we have it drilled into our individualistic developing minds that looking out for number one is not only critical, but also admirable. But as much as I like to talk the ear off of anyone willing to listen to my point of view, I'm not ready to start writing educational pamphlets to get the word out.
Then we come to the idea of a writing being a tool to amassing wealth. It is true that there are things to be researched when attempting to get into publication. Obviously, it's wise to write what the market wants if a person really wants to acquire the coveted "name in print." I wouldn't be so trite as to say that I'm above such things, or that I need to stick by my principles and write only what my heart desires. It's like saying I know better what people want to read than people do themselves. Sorta like on Design Star when Kelly decided that she knew better what the little boy should want his room to look like than what he said he wanted. Just because I have what I think is a stellar story idea, doesn't mean that there will be anyone else out there who wants to read it. At the same time, I can't just write to please a general populace. Just because "someone" was able to sell large quantities of sub-par books, doesn't mean that I'm going to stoop to that level just to make some quick cash.
When people ask me who I am, what I want to do or be, I still come back to the fact that I'm a writer, even though I can't answer yes to any of those questions. The truth is, for me, writing is like breathing. It's something I just do. Something I need to do. When I was several weeks behind in my journal I felt all tight in my head. My journals are not something anyone should, or even could, read. They are not literary master works, or even all that interesting if I'm being completely honest. But they have become an integral part of my life; how I manage my place in this world that so often doesn't measure up to my ideals or standards.
Likewise, my blogs are a place for me to express this world in a slightly more public forum. I don't guarantee that they'll be interesting to any person who passes through, but they're an attempt at both honesty and entertainment. A broader outlet for my light to shine so to speak.
Then there are those stories that still resonate inside my head. The snippets of ideas, the characters that haunt me, the ideas that seek to be revealed. If life was made of time, I would have more of it to spend on completing those stories. However, days evaporate before I even know what's happening. Today, for example, is just gone.
Perhaps, some day, I'll be able to add to my list of accomplishments a literary title. Perhaps I'll figure out how to get the word out and even make a buck or two. Perhaps not. Regardless, (yes, irregardless is still not a proper word despite the fact that spell check is currently registering it, and my boss uses it on a highly regular basis along with a handful of other nails on the chalkboard double negatives) I still call myself a writer. Lowercase is fully acceptable to me.

The Summer of Cousins Slideshow

2011-08-20T19:28:00.000-07:00

One of the primary reasons I wanted to come back to the United States was to have a chance to see my family. I'm a family person. I love 'em. I've been an aunt since I was 11, and I positively adore being the "young fun Auntie." I've lived this strange and random life that has allowed me to live with or next door to, almost all of my nieces and nephews. I had six months after college graduation living with my sister and her boys in Medford, 9 months of substitute teaching insanity living with another sister family - this time the ultimate girly fam - in Alaska, and since returning to the US, I've been living next door to a third sister and her two kids. We're currently living in my parent's basement (yeah, I know, very glamorous to get married and move back in with your parents, but it is what has worked for us thus far) and that makes this house the ideal cousin gathering ground.
There's really nothing better than getting to see the cousins running around and having a fabulous time together. I was the youngest of five, and was not only five and a half years younger than my nearest sibling, but also about five years younger or older than my nearest cousins. I never really got to have the great bonding cousin experience, so it's so much fun to see them having the chance.
I still feel so thankful that they were all able to be present and a part of my wedding. There were moments when it looked like it wasn't going to happen, but thankfully it all worked out. This summer was just a continuation of those blessings.
In July, my Alaska nieces came down for two weeks. Well, the oldest and youngest were here for two weeks, while the Tekla got to visit a friend in Texas and only came the first week. Tyler got to stay for the second week as well, although his mom and little brother were only able to come for a weekend. What a great group of kids. I'm seriously so impressed by how great they're all turning out. You know, you dote on them and think they're the best things ever when they're little, but you just never know what kind of people they'll grow up into. All I can say is, so far, AMAZING!
We spent a lot of time at the pool. Can't say that my chlorine allergic skin was thrilled, but I did get a lovely tan, and some quality exercise, as well as great fun with the crew.

One of the funniest things ever was watching Naomi, who is super tiny, turning into the Michelin man in her swim top. We all just laughed and laughed and laughed. It was so funny that people who didn't even know us joined in.
Here are a smattering of pictures showing how adorable, and crazy, this little crew can be.

During the second week, I was able to get an extra day off from work in order to join everyone on a trip to Silverwood, the largest theme park in the Northwest, or so they say. It's not quite a Six Flags, but it had some decent roller coasters. Mark and I took the three oldest (Tyler, Haley, and Tekla) and hit up all the big rides. Having always LOOOOOVED amusement parks, I was thrilled to have this experience with them. Yeah for adrenaline in scientifically proven safe doses :)

After the girls went home Mark and I drove Tyler to Portland where Jack was competing in the Little League State finals. We had a great ride down with him, and stopped at Multnomah Falls to enjoy some of God's finest handiwork. Pretty impressive place.

The game was super exciting. It was Mark's first Little League, or really any kind of baseball, experience. Back when I lived with Janet and her family I went to a couple baseball games a week, so it was great to relive a portion of that experience with my husband.
In fact, we had so much fun that a week later when they were playing for the state championship we came back down with Mom and Dad to watch the big game. They were undefeated going into the game, so if they won it, they'd be the overall winners. Something about big game day jitters got the better of them, however, and they lost, which meant they had to play again. This time, it was all about victory. Jack was a bit disappointed that he wasn't one of the kids to hit a homer, but he did a great job, and it was so much fun to watch him play.

We had a couple of weeks off, and then my brother and his family passed through. They flew from Kansas, then borrowed my parents Pilot for a week to visit Canada, and spent another couple days with us before heading back home. During their little visit we were able to go out to Elk Creek Falls and enjoy a lovely time hiking. There was a little male bonding as well...

This is what Josh and Rowan did when I asked them to stand on the rock together and look like they loved each other. They were adorable when they got along, but most of the time they were competing over one thing or another. If one of them was successful in getting something it meant the other one didn't get it and was all upset and teary. Thankfully, big sister/cousin Emily worked wonders. So proud of how she's grown up from the little girl who would look in the mirror and practice all the different ways she could enunciate the word "NO!"

This was one of my favorite pictures from the hike. There's just something so sweet about seeing my Dad all relaxed in the grass, and Bekah sitting so nonchalant. Priceless.

Elk Creek is such a beautiful place. I just can't resist sharing a couple more shots from our hike.

It's been a bit strange just working all summer. Makes it a little hard to believe that it has really come and gone. Thankfully, we've still been having some lovely weather. I'll be sure to share some of the other things, and photos, from the past couple of months. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep a bit more up to date on things. After my heavy spring month posts, summer has been a bit of a bummer in blog land, but I do hope to make up for it.
Even as my mind wanders to distant shores and thoughts of what all I could do in foreign lands, I'm so thankful I got to make so many family memories this summer. I'm sure the kids will never forget the roller coasters, swimming trips, and ultimate Frisbee games. I know I sure won't.

Finding my place.

2011-08-17T19:49:00.001-07:00

I wouldn't be surprised if I've lost anyone who might wander here. It's been a while. I'd say it's been a busy summer, but that wouldn't exactly be the right way to put it. Yes, there have been busy things. There were visits from nieces and nephews, the endless tedium of the work place, and trips around all the little villages and cemeteries that populate this corner of Idaho and Washington. But there hasn't been anything big. Nothing pressing. Nothing of the sort to call big news, or to blame my absence on.
I just haven't been around. I haven't had the moments to sort my head and get things out. Yesterday I had the day off and was able to force in some journal time. I was almost a month behind! Not even funny. It's just that nothing seems to get done the way I'd like it to.
Things I'd love to be doing:
1)Writing - this includes both literary as well as personal. Journals, blogs, books and poetry.
2)Learning Czech - this is one of those things that seems to escape me most of the time. I'll spend a few minutes going over word lists from Byki, and then I'll lose the time somehow. I know the kind of motivation I need to really study and get down to it, but there just aren't classes on Czech at U of I to immerse myself in.
3)Reading - This summer I've managed to acquire quite a few great books via Goodwill, yard sales, and even an antique store. But do I have time to read said books? Well, not nearly as much as I'd like.
4)Quality time with God - Yeah, I try to get in some spiritual reading in the mornings, and I make it to church most Sundays, but I feel the strain of living a life less passionate than I would like it to be. It's always hard when I find myself in situations where I feel so little purpose. It's in these times that I long to really life, but instead find myself waiting.
The truth is, I've done to much of that in recent years. Waiting for "real" life to start. Whether it was waiting on paperwork to come to the US, or paperwork to make it possible to leave, it seems we've been putting life on hold for a long time. A constant sense of delay before we get into something that matters, something we can call worthwhile. I took a temporary sort of job thinking it'd be a month or two. Now it's been four months, and counting.
5)Transition - I guess this sorta goes with that last thought as well. I've lived a transient life for so many years you'd think this would just be old hat. One year at a time has been the model. Free summers to visit people and have fun. Jobs that follow school years and take me to different locations. This is the last week for all the summer holiday students to be at work. They're getting ready to get back into their studies and I find myself oddly jealous. I was so happy to be done with school, and have often worried that I would have no idea what to do with myself if I went back to school again. But now I find myself missing the thrill of spiral notebooks, colorful folders and pens filled with fresh black ink. I miss the thought of entering new classrooms, trying to figure out what style will best impress the teacher and make the grade, searching for the students that connect with my way of thinking, and those that will irritate me to no end. Yeah, oddly enough, I even miss those types.
Then there's also a girl who is heading to Spain for a semester and the travel bug starts to wiggle and squirm inside my stomach. Even though I know it will happen again, I'll get on a plane and see both old familiar places and new, it's hard to watch other people starting their new adventures while I'm floundering to make it from one lousy paycheck to the next.
Living is such an important thing to do. Vital. To breath in the moments of this life. To suck the marrow out of each day as those Dead Poet's Society members would chant. Just have to figure out how to get it all done, and how to keep on living life to the fullest while I'm at it. The time is just too short to put it all off and wait for tomorrow for things to be more interesting.
I read a blog about living an authentic life. I think it's very true that we need to learn how to be true to who we really are, how to live out what you believe, and to me, a part of that is learning how to really live. It's so easy for me to get caught up in routine that I forget to enjoy, to look deeply at the things and the people that I've been blessed to experience life with, and to be thankful for them.
I noted one of the comments on that blog in which someone said that in order to be true to themselves they wanted to do things just only for them. While I believe that we shouldn't allow ourselves to be overly influenced by the opinions of others, to be truly authentic I want to be able to live in such a way that I make life better for others. Working at Mother's Choice in Hong Kong, teaching English in the Czech Republic, helping to work on a church in Italy, Bible Schools in the Pacific Northwest, these are the sort of things I've been blessed to do, the moments in time when I've been able to impact the world in my own quiet behind the scenes sort of way. I know that, when life is somehow properly lived, I can have an impact on the people around me whatever my job or locale. It isn't always so easy to see, but I know it can be done. And I honestly believe that writing here can be a part of that. I have no notions about having a massive following list or anything like that, but I hope the little bits of my life, the little deviations and thoughts and diatribes that I go off on here, will touch people in some way, make them think about their own lives differently.
I'm hoping that, as summer winds down and we're trying to save money and travel less in order to afford a Christmas trip back to the Czech Republic, that I'll have more time to keep up here. I'm hoping I'll stay caught up in my journal (once I manage to get caught up that is), and that I'll be able to solidify a few more Czech phrases in my life. I don't know if the people I hang clothes with will remember me a few years from now, but I hope that in my quality of work and the way I speak, that I will have a positive impact on them, maybe even help them to see the world in a fresh new light. This is where I am for the moment, and I want to live...

Remiss

2011-07-28T13:58:00.000-07:00

I'll confess, the internet has been mostly abandoned over the past month. Not through any desire to escape the world of technology, but because we've just been so busy, and spending time actively living is a far better use of this brief encounter on earth than sitting holed away in my own private world.
That's not an altogether fair statement. The truth is, I love being able to write here, writing in my journal, having those little moments that are my own. They just don't always work out in the overall flow of life. We had a great visit with my nieces, and one of my nephews was able to stay for a week as well, so it was a lot of great family fun. When I'm feeling more caught up on life in general I'll try to cover all of that. Since then it's just been a matter of trying to figure out life and where things are going. I'm in the midst of a cross cultural venture, and it's hard to know how best to manage everything. We've been here almost a year. Almost a year, and yet we're still at my parent's house, still struggling to get by on my part time job finances, still waiting on more paperwork, still trying to figure out where we belong. It's not an easy thing to figure for certain.
Someday, I'm really looking forward to having something I can rely on. I know that's asking for a lot in this world, but it would just be nice to have a sense of place, a sense of how things are going to flow. I'm not asking for all the answers. I'm not asking to have my future all laid out in an easy to follow time line. I'm just hoping for a plan, a sketchy map of sorts. (sigh)
A few updates just for kicks, my new passport has arrived, and the old one has returned. I'll tuck it away with all those stamps and memories, and hopefully get the new one broken in before long. It's uncertain what the coming months will hold, but hopefully we'll get all the visa papers taken care of and be able to go back to Czech for a while. It would be a very good thing to do. Also, I've passed a couple milestones in journal land. June 14th was the 15 year mark. That means that (save for the couple of weeks I'm still behind on recording) I've covered every day for the past 15 years in my lovely scribbled font. And just yesterday I started journal number 100! It's a beautiful bright green journal from ordning and reda I'm giving my classic "Caleb" bookmark a much deserved rest and using the new one I got from this store in Stockholm as well. I thought it would be nice to celebrate #100 somehow. The Caleb bookmark is one I got for myself just after my little Chaska went home with his forever family. It's always a nice reminder to pray for him in his new life. Scary to think I'll be 9 at the end of this month. Time, it always seems to escape me.
Well, there's much to do. That little http://www.ordning-reda.com/pages/index.asp?dom=1037&rub=2425&vFamID=2505&vProdID=OR9793 is just begging me to take the few spare moments while Mark is helping Dad load things up to take to the dump and catch up a bit more. Summer is rapidly burning away, and I'm ready to feel caught up and refreshed so I can get around to the short story idea I've got in my head after countless summer cemetery visits, as well as finishing up the first novella in my newest series experiment.

HK in PDX

2011-06-27T16:57:00.000-07:00

Well, I've managed to get in a few minutes of time all alone. Mark is watching Czech TV, my parents are napping, and Julie took the kids to the pool. Seeing as how I'm allergic to chlorine, I only like to go swimming if it's REALLY hot or I'm in the mood. By the time they got out it was so late that paying just didn't seem worth it. It's about 80 degrees (hallelujah at last!) but according to my phone (which supposedly knows all since it's smart) it's going to be in the 90's next week, and I'd rather save my swimming time for days when I really need to beat the heat.
Last weekend I had the amazing chance to catch up with some of my old HK friends. There have been a few transplants to the Portland area, and our friend Ann, who I met up with in Prague shortly before heading stateside, was here on a business kind of trip, so I decided I couldn't miss out on the opportunity to see everyone. Nothing like a nice long road trip to help me mellow out and process life. I was pretty ready to arrive after 7 1/2 hours of driving, but for the most part, I just enjoyed having the time to watch the world fly by and to think about this period in my life, at least when I wasn't singing at the top of my lungs. It's so different traveling alone than it is when you have a passenger. Don't get me wrong, I totally love having the company, and would have been happy to take Mark with me, but he had work he needed to do in a nice quiet house, and so it was just me and the road this time around.
I actually stayed at Jessie's house, which was also lovely. Nice to catch up and see how much her little beauty is growing. Hard to believe she's two and a half already. They grow up so fast. I was also there on Sunday and got to celebrate Father's Day with their family. I didn't feel like I was letting my dad down too much since I'd been up to visit him just the weekend before. It was just nice to have a sort of family time on the day.
Anyhow, on Saturday I got to go and see some other transplants. It was so great to have a chance to be around other people dealing with crossing cultures. One of my friends is currently feeling a little stranded as his wife was detained in Canada and not allowed to continue back to where they're living in Portland. She's Canadian, and they're making them jump through all sorts of hoops in order for her to return to the US. Not fun. In the meantime, it's their two year old who has to deal with all the complications. So frustrating, but he's super cute and it was great to meet little Ethan who was born after I was back in the US.
It's always so surreal to run into people in different countries, out of context with how you originally knew them. I've now spent time with Ann on three continents. How crazy is that? Next time I'm probably going to have to visit her in Australia.
In the afternoon we spent some time looking around Saturday Market. There were various and sundry people wandering around down there. Lots of costumes, including people with tails or furry ears or even wings. Hmmm... But in the midst of the crazies we did find an amazing little Vietnamese restaurant that served some of the best bubble tea I've ever had. While most places provide flavoring in the form of a sugary artificially flavored syrup, this place clearly used real fruit. While it might have only been canned fruit, it was still positively delicious. Yeah for Bubble Tea!

We really made quite a day of it, just wandering around and exploring different things in Portland. We hung out at a mall for a while, and then went to a Mexican Restaurant for dinner. Sadly, my Love is not the biggest fan of Mexican food ever, so I was glad he didn't have to feel miserable as I enjoyed both the flavor, and the messy, gooey, drippy juice that ran down my hands. Okay, so maybe I don't really enjoy being a soggy mess, but you just can't eat tacos with a fork. Totally doesn't work.
Next stop on our list: Voodoo Doughnuts. Apparently this place is legendary. In truth, I'd never even heard of it. But they'd been talking about it all day, so I definitely wanted to give it a try.
The place really is pretty cool. There was a line that twisted through the store and was backed up out the door, despite the fact that it was after 11 PM. It's an all night store, and apparently is always crowded. Going slowly through the line gave us plenty of time to contemplate the bizarre doughnuts and the fascinating decorations.

If you want a large order for a party you can get them delivered in a coffin box. Seriously, how cool is that?

According to the signs on the wall, they even do weddings. Too bad I didn't know that a few months sooner.
After finally making it through the serpentine, we sat on this coffin bench

and enjoyed our Voodoo Dozen.

Thirteen doughnuts that were chosen for us. No worries, we didn't just sit there and eat all thirteen. We just split a few for sampling purposes before heading back to Brooke and Ephraim's place. It was a bit late and they convinced me to stay the night rather than risking an exhausted drive back to Salem.
Everything worked out for the best, and I just had a glorious weekend. Probably can't afford any travels like that again for a bit, but it was great to see old friends and just get out and move around a bit. Now time to enjoy more fun with the nieces.

All those life changes

2011-06-25T13:42:00.000-07:00

Well, things have changed again, therefore leading to less time sitting quietly in the living room keeping up on blog updates. I've got pictures and news to add about my fun weekend in Portland seeing HK friends, but I haven't the energy at the moment to download them. It will happen. Life will settle and I'll find routine again, but with my parents back in the house everything has changed again. No more of the quiet little peaceful life. The world revolves around food, and keeping track of what everyone is doing. Mark is hard at work helping on the countless projects Dad hasn't been able to get to on his own, and my work schedule makes sure I keep getting up bright and early.
Two of my Alaska nieces arrived today, meaning that everything around here will take on new vitality and a bit of crazy. After living with them for the better part of a year in '06/'07, it's great to have a chance to catch up with what they're interested in and doing these days. Crazy that the youngest is now the age the oldest was when I was their downstairs neighbor.
So forgive the lack up updates for a bit as I try to find a new pattern to my days and sort out the ins and outs of yet another upheaval of sorts. Transience right here in the house so to speak.

Garnet Ghost Town

2011-06-16T19:13:00.001-07:00

During the weekend trip to Seeley Lake, we also had the chance to visit an old Ghost Town in the Montana mountains. Garnet, once a booming mining town with a population of around 1,000 is now home only to the rangers who protect it. There has been some work done to clear out the surrounding forest to make it less susceptible to forest fires, and different groups have come up to reinforce the remaining buildings to preserve this wonderful witness to frontier life.

The town started in the 1880s I believe. As the name suggests, it was a mining town, although they were mostly interested in gold. While the town had four stores, four hotels and a booming 17 saloons, it still managed to be more family oriented than many of the other towns around. This is made evident by the building that I found most fascinating: The Newlywed House. I'm not sure if the whole sign will be legible, but basically a wealthy man built this house for the use of newlyweds. They could live here rent free until their own house was built, or until the next couple got married. Pretty cool if you ask me, although, despite having it's own two seater outhouse near the back, I'm not sure I'd be very well suited for this sort of living.

Wandering around this place actually made me stop and evaluate what matters in life a bit. I've been reading a blog lately by someone who has stopped buying new clothes. She's been at it for several years, and shares a lot about ways to declutter life. Having spent several years out of country, I know what it means to live with little. In Hong Kong I had about a 6 by 6 foot space to call my own. With one suitcase and whatever I could buy as a volunteer, I learned to live with little. But all along I knew I had at least two bedrooms full of stuff at home. Every time I return from life abroad I cut down, but the thought of living in these cramped, cold, dirty quarters chills me. What would these people think if they saw an episode of any of the design shows on HGTV that I enjoy so much? It would be like traveling to a completely different world to them. Really makes me think.
Well, enough of my soapbox, back to the town. Walking around between the little buildings it also made me think of how much these people had to rely on one another. Living out in the boondocks in those days was beyond tough. It was hard to get supplies in, despite the lovely local stores.

I was amused to see that they had Hills Bros Coffee, which I enjoy even today in mocha form. But mostly life's pleasures were of a simple nature for these hard working people. They had to take care of one another, to really live in community if they were to survive the hard Montana winters. The trails between houses were well worn, and no doubt everyone knew everyone's business. Including who used the back stairs to visit the ladies' parlour at the finest saloon in town.

It's kind of tragic to me to think of how isolated we have become in this world of social networking. We might know exactly when our "friends" have gone to the shopping mall (apparently sometimes leaving themselves open to thievery by the detailed state of their affairs) but more often than not we don't know anything about the people living right next door. While I have no choice but to know my neighbors, seeing as how my sister lives next door, and the people on the other side are chatty and friendly, this is the first time since leaving my parents home after high school that I can make such a claim. And while I would naturally ask my sister for a cup of sugar, I'd be hard pressed to ask anyone else around for anything except in the most dire of circumstances.
Really didn't think I was going to get so deep on this Ghost Town post. Who knew?
Anyhow, I'll move along now that I've put some thoughts in motion. Along with the various and sundry shacks that remain, and some information that is known about the old dance and community hall, or the store house relics, the most impressive building in the town was and is the hotel. This place was a work of art, completely out of touch with the rest of the village. The woman who had it built and owned it wanted it to be just as fine as if it were in a major city, and I would say she succeeded. After seeing the relative squalor that the common people lived in, it was almost shocking to see the luxury she managed to maintain in this fantastic lodge. I imagine many of the women experienced envy at the thought of the beautiful wall paper and fashionable furniture that decorated this place of convenience for outsiders, as well as housing the occasional miner who paid for a spot on the third level to roll out his sleeping mat on the floor or a little cot.

There was a story displayed there about the woman who came to be the cook. She arrived at the last coach stop before the town only to learn that there were no more rides to town for the night. She was supposed to start work the next morning, so she walked some 8 to 10 miles in the dark in order to be there to get food on the table in time for breakfast. Another reminder of how hardy these people were. They wouldn't outsource all their production to China in order to save money and line their pockets. They'd work hard to see to it that they took care of their own. Wow, bandwagoning again. What's gotten into me? Maybe I've been hanging clothes for too long and am finally just needing to get it out. I think I'm still trying to deal with American entitlement culture shock, and just haven't had a whole lot of chances to process it. But, not ever really enjoying being political, I'll try to reign myself in a bit.
After seeing all the town had to offer, we also checked out some of the old mining area. They didn't dig deep holes down into the earth, but mostly made trenches and searched through the quartz for those valuable veins of gold. A few remnants remained, but it was obvious that the frenzy has long since gone out of this place.

And so we had an amazing opportunity to step back into the past and really contemplate the way people used to live. It's an incredible gift really. Eye opening in more ways than one. After living in Europe with it's ancient castles, and history that is still evident stretching back before the birth of America, it's nice to have at least a small chance to see some of what America was built upon. These were brave and daring souls. Far from perfect, as evidenced by the number of saloons, and the jail cell that was reportedly used most often to house drunks while they slept it off, but they knew the value of the land and their community in ways that we have largely forgotten with all our technological advancements. If there ever were some disaster that wiped out our technical capabilities I'd be totally at a loss for how to survive. I see the way they live and it makes me cringe. I love electricity and my ever expanding closet of clothes, not to mention my cell phone, digital camera, and computer. I have enough trouble cooking on a modern stove, and where would I be without a comfy bed to sleep in?
There is so much more to life than we realize. So many things to contemplate, to see, to learn. I hope I never close my eyes to all there is to experience where ever in the world I call my home.

Short Note on the Passing of an Old Friend

2011-06-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

Before anyone gets concerned or teary eyed, this is one of those inanimate friends, so I promise it will be okay.
I don't know exactly when I got the travel bug. It wasn't something I always had. See, as a child I lived in the little town of Horse Creek, CA, WAAAAAAAAY down the Klamath River on HWY 96. Anyone who has ever driven that road knows the meaning of the word "curvaceous." (I was going to say "windy" but as that could be seen two ways I chose otherwise.) We lived about 35 miles from the nearest town, Yreka. Still not much of a town in case you're curious. That meant every time we needed something from the store and didn't want to pay an arm and a leg for it, we had quite a trip to make. My siblings actually got the joy of a bus ride down this incredible road twice a day during their high school years.
I love this drive now. It's a beautiful trip through the mountains along the river, dotted with wildlife and minimal traffic. I know every curve, and used to know the people living in many of the houses as well. As a child, however, it almost always made me queasy. If I looked out the front window, and didn't do anything crazy like trying to read, I could make it okay, but otherwise I was not a fan of the trek.
As time passed, however, I developed an insatiable desire to see more of the world. Perhaps it's precisely because I grew up in such an isolated place. I wanted to know more, to see more, to experience more.
In 1996 I had my first out of country experience. I've always enjoyed history, and been fascinated by all there is out there in the world to see. Traveling to Italy on a mission trip gave me a beautiful opportunity to meet new people, expand my horizons, and see some seriously old stuff. Let me just tell you that standing in the Collesium, and knowing it's the real thing, is awe inspiring.
I was only 17 back then, almost half a life time away, and I gave the camera a big grin that was slapped into a handy little passport. A couple of years later I wanted to put the thing to use once more, and I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Hong Kong for a summer. Wow. What more can I say. I entered into an entirely new world and felt so alive. Giving my life and love to the babies at the orphanage changed me completely. The first night I was there I knew that three months were not nearly enough time. However, passports acquired by minors are only good for five years, so when it came time to head back to Hong Kong after completing college, a new travel book was required.
I can still remember the day I drove down to Kinkos to get my passport photos taken. It was hot. Like seriously hot. Medford, Oregon can be that way. I was dripping by the time I got there, and my hair was short short short. I was a bit deflated from the heat, but I beamed in the photo, knowing that it would soon be my ticket to the world. I was hesitant to mail in my old passport, fearing that it might be lost or not returned, but I had no other options. Away it went and a few weeks later I was given a ten year pass.
Today, it's time is up. With a July 2011 expiration date, there are no more stamps to be had. Granted, they don't stamp passports as readily as they once did. I've visited a number of countries that didn't make their way visually into the book, but it has still become a dear friend. I have carried it literally around the world. There are visas to Hong Kong, Indonesia, China, and the Czech Republic inside, as well as stamps from Korea, Macau, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and perhaps one or two others from transit points as well. It even has a fat section of beautiful new pages I had to have added when I ran out of visa pages. The visa photos record varying lengths of hair and roundness of face. It's a map, a guide, a journal of sorts. And today it is on it's way to being replaced.
I'm feeling a little squirmy in my stomach thinking about it sitting in an envelope at the post office. I worry again that something might happen to slow its progress, shuffling it off in unknown directions. It has been a source of protection and identification. Without it, I'm stuck, grounded not just on this continent, but in this country. No longer can I even take a quick jaunt up to Canada. I feel as though my legs have been tied.
Despite my worry, I tell myself it will all be okay. The post office won't lose my precious passport. They'll deliver it safely along with the astronomical fee that has nearly doubled in the past ten years. It will arrive and be replaced with a new book with beautiful pages and a new fancy data collection card. And the old passport, now used up and seemingly useless, will have a hole punched through it to show that it is no longer valid for travel. I don't want it to be sad about this change in status, but to feel as though it is time for a well deserved break. It's seen me through a lot of transitions after all. The new photo will have updated hair, but the smile has been removed. For some reason we've also gone over to the somber photo group. Makes me sad really, but at least I don't have those ridiculous corn furrows on my head like I get every now and then.
So there you have it. The entire saga. Now I just have to wait a few long weeks until I have the lovely new little book in my hands and I'll be capable of transit once again.

Weekend Trip to Glacier National Park

2011-06-14T21:29:00.000-07:00

Over this past weekend Mark and I were able to go and visit my parents in Seeley Lake, Montana where they've been serving at a small VM church for the past several months. They'll be finishing up their time there next weekend, so this was our last chance to visit them there and enjoy the beauty of their location. The whole time I was there I kept thinking about the time Rebecca there in 2008.
Unfortunately, due to a long hard winter, only 16 miles of road were open from the West Entrance. We would have enjoyed being able to wander around more, but we did the best with what we were able to do.

We headed in by McDonald Lake and then continued along and stopped at different places along the way. I could spend all sorts of time trying to come up with descriptions to do the place justice, but the pictures tell it better.

It was really great to have the chance to spend some time cruising around with Mom and Dad. We were also joined by Mitzi and Trixie just because.

The river provided lots of lovely views and posing opportunities.

On our way to take a break by the souvenir station, we did have a nice encounter with nature. Since I wasn't as ridiculous as the people who got out of their cars to take photos of the bear my photos don't do it justice, but it was pretty cool to watch a bear just enjoying a bite twenty feet away from us.

We enjoyed the local transport, although we stuck with our own car for the ride.

Then we went for a little nature walk to St. John's Lake. I'm pretty sure that was what it was called at least.

In all it was a really beautiful trip. We all enjoyed the chance to see these natural marvels. It would be nice to go back some day and see a bit more of the place, but for the time being we did enjoy the visit.
I'll leave the rest of our trip for the next post since I had so many pictures for this post.

'Cause I'm Cool Like a Grandma

2011-06-09T17:59:00.001-07:00

When I was eight years old I lived in a world inside my head. Being five and a half years younger than my closest sister, and living out in the middle of nowhere in Horse Creek, California, there weren't many playmate options. I had what I dubbed "play people," a whole entourage of invisible friends at my beck and call whenever I needed them.
I know they showed up at school sometimes. There were even those who played copy cat and started having imaginary folk following them around, but none of them relied on them quite as heavily as I did. As the years passed and the social structure of our little school fluctuated, I was left on the outside, a pasty, pudgy outcast with a head full of dreams and ideas. They called me "Teacher's Pet" or "Miss Goody Two Shoes" and had no interest in me except to acquire answers on assignments. It's actually a little hard to recall exactly what set me on the outs. While many places in small town America remain structured around whether you're a true local (I was two when we moved there) or not, it didn't seem to matter so much in the first years. Our school was super small. We had K-8 with only three teachers, which meant three years in each class. The first three years were fine, but when we moved into third grade, things shifted away from me. I moved more into my own head, and away from the maddening crowd.
It was during this stage that I began to spend more time during recess sitting at the metal picnic table with Viola than playing with my peers. Viola was a rather crusty old bird. Years of smoking had given her a gravelly voice, and her threatened growling was something to be avoided at all costs. We all feared her and loved her at the same time. Being sentenced to sit on the tire, a large tractor left over, next to her table was a fate to be avoided at all costs. Yet I chose to sit with her willingly.
In contrast to her somewhat harsh manner, Viola was a Crafter. She was always working on some crocheting project as she kept a cautious eye on playground politics. Every year at Christmas each student received a hand made ornament. I still cherish those trinkets, and they have hung on my parents tree every year up to the present. Being the focused and outcast kid that I was, I decided I wanted to learn how to make blankets like Viola.
When I first approached her with my plea, she was wary. "You'll never stick with it," she said. "You'll get bored. I don't want to waste my time teaching you if you aren't really serious."
But I was serious. I begged and pleaded, and finally she told me to bring a hook and some yarn. I was so excited by the prospect, and eagerly showed up with my shiny green "G" hook and a skein of red yarn.
"If you really want to learn," she told me gruffly, "I'll teach you how to make a basic chain. If you can crochet a basic chain that stretches from the picnic table to the fence (about 100 feet or so) then I'll teach you the next stitch."
I was determined not to let her down. Recess always haunted me with the fear of feeling alone and rejected, so I was grateful to have something to concentrate my time on. It's possible that the other kids laughed at me for my endeavor, but I really didn't care. My grandmother was a master with a crochet hook. Her blankets and booties kept us warm in the winter, and her delicate angels and snowflakes hung elegantly on our Christmas tree. I wanted to be able to do things like that.
So, day after day, the metal bench pressed lines into my chubby legs, and I wrapped the string around my finger and learned how to make the hook work magic. I don't know how long this project went on, no doubt the better part of third grade, but I never managed to make it all the way to the fence. Even though I stuck to it pretty faithfully, I ran out of steam somewhere along the line, and the dream died. At least for a while.
When I was ten, an exciting thing happened. I was informed that I was going to be an aunt. I was thrilled by the idea, and I wanted to be the best auntie any baby ever had. I decided that, whether Viola would teach me or now, I was going to make a blanket for this baby. I informed Viola of my intent, and I'm sure she was laughing inside, but she agreed to give me some basic guidelines to get me started. Since we didn't know what the baby would be, I made neat rows of alternating blue, pink, sea green, and white. Much to everyone's surprise, by the time David Kirk West entered the world, when I was only 11, I had made him a blanket. Two years later, when Ryder was born, another blanket, this time purple, teal and white, was produced. I'd like to be able to say that additional blankets were made for all 13 of my nieces and nephews, but high school wasn't exactly the best time for such projects. I got out of practice, and the thought of spending hours and hours and hours crocheting just didn't appeal the way it had when I was younger. During that stage I did make one other blanket for my sister Julie, but it took about 5 years to finish because I just couldn't make myself focus.
Basically, I stopped really thinking about this odd old world hobby of mine. There were too many books to be ready, topics to be studied, and friends to entertain. I traveled, I attained higher education, and lost touch with some of my roots.
After my first year in Hong Kong, I came back depressed. I had trouble finding myself in the land of my birth. Despite my experiences and education, I ended up working as a maid (hmmmm...) and was basically miserable, despite having lovely roommates. I decided that it was time to take on a new project. Having never made anything for myself, I decided to make a blanket just for me. I was surprised by how quickly I was able to finish the project, and how much my skill level had grown. While the edges were still a bit wobbly, it actually turned out pretty neat and even.
A good friend of mine from high school was getting married that summer, and two weeks before the wedding I decided I would make them a blanket. Let me just say that when they pulled out the whopping afghan I made for them they were beyond surprised. I'd told them I was bored, and now they finally believed me :)
After that I decided that reviving this skill was definitely a good thing. I started making blankets for my sweet babies in Hong Kong when I moved back. I also made all kinds of scarves as Christmas gifts. I found I could finish one in a few hours, which was just perfect. Watch Christmas movie, complete scarf. What could be better? Sadly, the pictures of most of these blankets are only hard copies, so I can't quite catalog everything. Wedding and baby gifts have almost all turned to yarn. I'm still trying to master new stitches, but with the help of some books and internet tutorials I think Viola would be very proud at what I've managed to figure out on my own.
My backlog or photos doesn't go back very far, and some pictures I know I have somewhere have not yet been transferred to my hard disk, but here are a few.
This first one is from Amy and Scott Slinkard. I was so sad not to be able to attend the wedding of one of my friends who knew me from before I started to crochet, but at least I was able to make a little tribute to her wedding colors. It's too bad I don't have any pictures of my really early work where it was mostly just a basic double crochet. By this point I was already experimenting with new designs.

Next up, in a very similar style, is the blanket I made to welcome Citlali Zavala. It ended up being a bit long and skinny, but it worked just fine for a baby. I actually made this one in Czech with local yarn. It was so hard to know how much to buy because they measure it differently, so I still have quite a bit of leftovers stashed in Czech.

While the actual creation time only took about a month in and out of my work and social schedule, it took me almost two years to finally get around to making this blanket for Nate and Amy Sarchet-Waller. I brought the yarn with me from the US this time, which made things a lot easier. During our long CA meetings it was great to have something to help occupy my hands so I could stay focused.

I've always loved zigzag blankets, so I was really excited to finally figure out how to make them for myself. My first attempt was for my mom, and the second was for Jessie's wedding. No pictures, I'm sorry to say, but I whipped up something similar for Julie and Chad Granum. I was pleased with how the blanket was turning out, only to realize I was going to have a lot of yarn left over, so I decided to make them two. What newly married couple doesn't want a matching set of blankets in their wedding colors, right? Julie, who has become really accomplished in crochet herself, making a vast variety of things that I wouldn't even think of being able to do, made me a really cool blanket for my wedding in return. Perfect :)

Finally, I'll end with a couple more pictures of the Sunflower Afghan. I'm really so pleased with how it turned out. I think it really does look like a field of sunflowers with their heads all turned up in the pale blue sky.

I'll leave you to be the judge. Do you think Viola would be thankful for what she started with me?

Catching up at last

2011-06-08T19:41:00.000-07:00

So now that I've officially gotten married here in Blogsville, I'll finally finish catching up on my past photo postings and be ready to enter into the normal day to day excitement of life in Moscow. Ha ha ha. No, really, that was a VERY funny comment. You see, life in Moscow (Idaho that is) doesn't exactly have a lot of chills and thrills to report. It'll just be more about how exciting it is when someone has explosive, eh hem, issues in the bathroom that I get blessed to help clean up. Here I thought I'd given up on life as a maid after three miserable attempts in the past, but it seems there's always a chance that I'll be called back to the front lines or hygiene duty. But that's definitely enough of that.
After the wedding Mark's parents stayed with us for another week. While this sort of cancelled out the idea of a traditional honeymoon, it really did make the most sense. The week before the wedding was so hectic that about all I did was drive them to shopping malls while I got more work done. So after a night to ourselves we came back and were able to say goodbye to my family and spend some quality time with his.
We bandied about lots of ideas where we could take them, but in the end decided on a trip down the Pacific Coast. Funny that my parents and my sister Julie and her husband both had spent their honeymoons on this same stretch of highway.
I've always loved the Pacific Ocean, and it was great to be able to share it with my new family. We drove all the way from Lincoln City, Or to Crescent City, CA. We were actually there just a week before the Japan earthquake, which sent harbor destroying tsunami waves into the little town.
Everyone enjoyed time spent at the beach. One afternoon we were walking on a beach just south of town and we discovered dozens of complete sand dollars. Sadly, I don't have any pictures of them, but we collected over 30. We also spent a day visiting the Redwoods. Mark's dad is a big nature enthusiast, and really loved these massive trees. He was so cute using the new video camera we got for them, and trying to get quiet shots of the towering giants.

Our drive back up coastal HWY 101 took place on a day of insane weather. We had blue skies, rain, and, believe it or not, snow! I'd never seen snow falling on the ocean. It was fascinating, but made the drive a bit stressful as I was trying to be really good for my in-laws.
We made a stop at the Sea Lion Caves, just as my parents also did on their honeymoon trip back in 1962. After almost 50 years, I don't think the place had changed much. This was apparently a good time of year to visit, because during the winter they spend most of their time inside. There were over 200 stinky barking sea lions in the cave. It was definitely a memorable experience.

It was here that we watched the storm clouds sweep in, dropping a flurry of snowflakes right into the ocean. Just craziness.
After a lovely trip, we returned the Jindrich's to the airport and sent them back to Czech land. I'm so thankful that they were able to come here and experience this place. It helps everything seem more possible, somehow.
Mark and I did end up with a few days of honeymoon, again at the Oregon Coast. Thanks to my parents we got to stay in some really nice timeshare places right near the beach. Then we had a little while in McMinnville before heading back to Idaho to try out married life.
And here we are, pretty much caught up to the present. I just wanted to add one more thing here before I end my catch up posts. I finally had the chance to finish up a wedding blanket for my friend Laura and her husband Dan. Managed to get this one done before their two year anniversary, so that was good. It actually took me about three weeks to complete I think. I found the directions here and just had to adapt it a bit to my own desires. There was no explanation for how to attach the sunflowers together individually, so I just had to figure that bit out for myself, but I think it worked out pretty well in the end. When she opened the package, Laura was able to recognize that it was designed after her wedding. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.

Maybe some day I'll do a post of all my wedding/baby blanket projects. I've been trying to archive my pictures recently, and have found quite a few of my projects there. Could be interesting.
For now, however, it's time to relax a bit after a long day of work. Tomorrow we're off to Spokane, and hopefully we'll head out to Montana for the weekend, so I'm sure I'll be able to post fresh photos soon.

Oh Yeah, I Got Married...

2011-06-07T17:03:00.000-07:00

Life changes some times in the most startling ways. Okay, it's not like I didn't see my wedding coming or anything like that, but in a sense, it still all took me by surprise. Some of the changes are subtle at first, but as time passes they become more obvious. When you're single for the first thirty years or your life, you tend to form some habits. Most of these habits have to do with the fact that you're responsibilities are few. I'm not talking about what you do for work, or what you have to do to survive or anything like that. Obviously, you could be single and still be doing something that requires you to act responsibly, like taking care of babies alone on a night shift. However, ultimately, you're only responsible for yourself. Your decisions are your own. You can go where you want, when you want (within reason of course.) Being in a relationship starts to change that gradually, but once you're married, it's a whole new ballgame.
I find myself now living a life in which I'm really not in control anymore. Not only is God in control, a fact which I've long had to wrestle with, but I have to think of someone else too. I can't just make up my own mind about what I'm going to do or where I'm going to go. I have to take into consideration the thoughts, feelings, and needs of someone else. And after thirty years of getting all set in my ways about how I want to do things, that's a pretty big adjustment. It would be great if I could say this is something that comes joyfully and easily to me, but that would be a lie. I can be pretty selfish when I get right down to it. I like to do things my own way, and when another person comes up with a whole new line of thoughts and opinions that aren't exactly in tune with my own? Well, I have to adjust.
Living cross culturally has often forced me to learn how to "be flexible." When I joined ESI (aka Teach Overseas) they pounded into my head the importance of living with ambiguity. It would appear that this is exactly what I've chosen as my life style. It should fit in rather well with the transient world I've called my home, but it still makes me stop and force myself to think on a regular basis. No more lackadaisical running around for me anymore. I'm a wife now.
That all being said, I'll jump right back into the big photo share I started working on lately. Along with the collision of friend worlds, I also was so happy to have my entire immediate family involved. To my knowledge, this was the first time all of my siblings, their spouses and their children have been in the same place at the same time, because the last big get together we had was before all the kids were born. So cool.

Sadly, not many people from Mark's family were able to come, but we were so thankful that it worked out for his parents to be there. His mom was really sick the week before they were supposed to fly, and since they're not used to flying, and don't speak any English at all, we were really afraid they wouldn't be able to make it, but thankfully God had other plans and knew just how important it was for them to be there with us.

Having these people, my friends and family, all together to celebrate was really such a miracle. Just look at how great they all looked :)

We also had the usual sorts of things like a cake that ended up a bit sad looking, but at least tasted good.

And these beautiful mints that my sister Janet made. They were just like the ones we had at her wedding only those were sea green and pink and there was such an overabundance that we had to freeze them and continued to eat them for years. She was much better at calculating this time around.

I had a lot more photos I thought about putting in, but for now I think this will have to suffice. It's at least enough to make it pretty obvious that a wedding did, indeed, take place. After years of being more than certain that it would never happen for me, having failed to get my MRS. while attending Simpson Bridal College (funny, they didn't give me my money back...) I at last have it in hand.

Six Months Stateside

2011-06-06T14:50:00.000-07:00

I think I've been living in some strange time vacuum. In some ways, it's hard to even fathom life back in Czech. It's such a different world from the one I now in habit that it's difficult to compare time here with time there. On the other hand, I find myself wondering just what exactly I've done for the past six months. Sure, there was the whole wedding business, then the job search, and all that time spent just trying to figure out where I'm at and how my new life is going to look. There has been culture shock, and being a wife shock, and a boundless number of questions about where and when and how. I'm still reeling, trying to figure it all out. I'm ready, just not sure exactly what it is I'm ready for.
In about two weeks my parents will be moving back here to their home, and then it'll be yet another time of transition. I must confess I'm beyond ready to have space that I can really call my own. I love decorating, settling in, putting everything into it's place, and I haven't really been able to do that, well, for about three years now. I put my special spin on the Skalka flat, but the city center flat in Cheb was so fresh and new that there wasn't a whole lot we could do to really decorate. I had a cork board of photos, and a little window sill full of nick-knacks from around Europe, but it's not the same as really claiming space and making it my own.
I have some things hanging in a closet, a few things in drawers, but even the majority of my clothes are in big plastic bins or a trash bag shoved in the bottom of a closet. Not exactly homey, if you know what I mean. My parents house is just beyond full of their things and spill over from my grandparents, not to mention all that stuff of mine that sits around in boxes collecting dust. It's not that I don't want to have it out where I can enjoy it, there just isn't any space, and out time here is always a question mark.
Anyhow, the point of my post is actually supposed to be a bit of a review. I think I set out more than thirty photos, so I might have to make this one a double in order to prevent an overload. I guess the wedding can have it's own post. Hard to believe it's already been three months since then as well. Did I mention time warp?
So here are a smattering of photos to represent time that has passed.
Okay, so I thought I had actually put in some pictures from before the wedding, but then realized I didn't have anything very interesting to show from before that time, so we'll get right into it. Planning a wedding in three months is a bit crazy. It can totally be done, but there were several things that complicated it. One, we were living in Moscow, ID and planning the wedding in Blodgett, OR. Not really all that practical. Second, it was pretty much all up to me because it was in my part of the world, the people attending were my family and friends, it was basically my day, rather than being a celebration combining our two worlds. I was disappointed that it had to be this way, but it was either here or there, and whichever location we chose one side would have been totally empty.
I know that for my sweet shy husband, of whom there will be very few photos because he prefers not to be pictured, it was all overwhelming and insane. He would have preferred a private ceremony with fewer than twenty people (a number so small that it would not even encompass my immediate family comfortably) which is more in keeping with Czech tradition. I, on the other hand, had been dreaming of my wedding being a grand event for as long as I could remember. I wasn't one of those girls who had already planned everything out, but I wanted to be able to invite all the people I could think of. My guest list spanned the world, literally. Obviously, I knew that not everyone would be able to make it, especially on such short notice, but I was blessed to have a combination of my worlds collide for one special day. Of course, it's always a bit crazy at weddings, so I wasn't able to give them each the devoted time I would have liked, but it was still just amazing to have my family and friends from every stage of my life present to witness my entry into marriage.

Bowen Girls Unite! We had a little mini Mother's Choice reunion. While several other HK friends have settled in Portland recently, none of them were able to make it, but Malin flew in from Sweden, and Rachel came with her daughter Lizzy from Memphis.
Some how I didn't end up with any photos to prove it, but two of my friends from elementary school, Savana and her mom, Diane, and Nicole and her husband BJ were also there. There were people from all three of the churches I grew up in as well as Laura and Kelly who I served with in the Czech Republic.

I'm going to cut this post short for now. I suppose this will suffice to at least get things started and maybe I'll have a chance to finish it up tomorrow.

Retail

2011-06-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

When you work in a retail store there are certain things you have to do in order to keep your sanity. Today I spent about 6 hours hanging clothes. That's not normal. And it's not like they just come all ready to put on the hangers either. They're often wrapped in one or two plastic bags, and may even be hung on hangers that have to be thrown away because they don't conform to store standards. (Note: it is impossible to understand why people can't hang clothes back in the right place since they are all so clearly marked and organized. This could come under the heading of "rant" as well.) In order not to succumb to the monotony, or get positively irritated every time I stick a hard tack in my finger, I tell myself that processing clothes, or household items, is like Christmas.
I'm a bit of an odd duck and I've always loved opening plastic. I love the feeling of pulling off the crinkly clear coverings of CDs, DVDs, or anything else that is trapped inside the stuff. So I just try to convince myself that it's just as much fun to pull it off when I know it will be going to the home of someone I don't even know, as when it's coming home with me. Besides, I don't have any space of my own for more stuff anyway, so it's better to be able to find a little joy in these moments, rather than cluttering up my life any more than necessary.
Had a nice past week with my parents around. Kept us extra busy. Mark and I got a lot of painting done in my Dad's shop, so hopefully when they move back here in a couple of weeks it'll be more workable.
Now I'm just so thankful it's the weekend and that I'll finally have a chance to sleep in tomorrow. Rumor has it there will be sun and temperatures as high as the low 70's. I know that sounds rather tragic for the beginning of June, but in contrast to what it's been that's basically amazing. Here's to hope that it all turns out and manages to stick around for a while.
And now let us usher in the weekend together!

Chebicek :)

2011-05-30T20:56:00.001-07:00

So Cheb doesn't exactly have the best name in the Czech Republic. It's a border town. When "freedom" came, naturally quite a lot of garbage came with it, and there are shady businesses with a strong foothold in the town. But there is also an ancient history and a collection of beautiful ancient buildings. I've got a number of past posts that go into issues about the town and the culture that is amassed there. No doubt plenty of pictures litter the pages of this blog as well, but, in the name of preserving the past, I thought it only right to write a little tribute to Chebicku where I spent three years of my life. From the ancient square with it's charming cluster of "bizarre" buildings known as Spalicek, to the spires of St Mikolas cathedral and peaceful monastery gardens, down to the ancient castle and the peaceful river walk, Cheb has a lot to give beyond those shady issues.

I'll let you try to match up which pictures go with which titles above. I've had trouble getting them to download in the order I want them if I don't put them in one at a time, which is a bit of a time waster, so it can be a matching exercise instead.
I won't take the time to put in pictures of all the amazing people that I got to work with, the staff and students that made it such a joy to be there, but I'll share a few of the blessed faces of those I was privileged to celebrate life together with during my time in Cheb. I explored these city streets for many hours with these ladies and I thank them all for the conversations we shared in this special little Czech town.

I think this is where I'll end my little trip down memory lane. All the posts from my last year in Czech are still pretty fresh and easy to review if people are interested. Now I guess this means I'll have to get back to posting about the present or something crazy like that. It's been good for me to reminisce, and I hope you've all enjoyed it as well. While living in the past isn't a healthy life choice on a daily basis, there is beauty in reliving the moments that make life unique and special. And it is always good to pay tribute to those who have brought joy to those moments as well. With one last pose the transient drifter will now transition back to the recent past.

The Year of trips with Laura

2011-05-28T22:11:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it might be a slight overstatement so say that all my trips were with Laura, but most of them were, and she shows up a lot on my favorite pictures, so this is definitely a highlight of her.
It's been so much fun going over these past photos. Makes me want to go back and reread all my blogs. (They're a LOT more user friendly than my journals after all.) It was so hard to narrow down the photos for this post, because there are just so many that I absolutely love. I'll confess, this also is a bit of a poser post. There's no denying that I enjoy it. It's hard to explain why, considering the fact that I wouldn't generally consider myself even vaguely photogenic. There's just something about trying to capture the look of the moment that I can't resist.
I've been pretty remiss on posting photos of my actual life in Czech. Perhaps we'll get a post to close things off where I highlight that as well. But this time we're going to cover top trips of 2008/2009.
The first stop on our tour? Vienna, Austria where I got to rock it up with old Hong Kong friends from Memphis, Rebecca and Rachel. Funny where you find people, eh? Note: no pictures of Laura in this section...

Okay, so it might be a slight overstatement so say that all my trips were with Laura, but most of them were, and she shows up a lot on my favorite pictures, so this is definitely a highlight of her.
The trip was for over my birthday weekend. Nice to live in Czech where my birthday is a national holiday so I had three days to have the crash course tour. Check out my November posts if you want to see more.
My next stop on the tour was a whirlwind trip through the south central countries of Hungary and Slovakia, where, thanks to other ESI teachers, we were able to take in the sights of Budapest (where Laura and I were aided by Joanna)

where we learned that culture shock is still possible thanks to the fogadunks one can fall into when railway workers go on strike and pizza parlor workers think they can comment on your portion sizes.
Next up, a quick stop in Bratislava for a Christmas Eve celebration with other ESIers.

Since we were only there for one day we'll limit it to one picture.
After a brief stopover in Prague for Christmas with Kelly, we move right along with the tour to Florence, Italy. Trains are pretty fabulous, although chatty Naples guy didn't seem to get the fact that we were in a sleeper car for a reason...

Maybe I went a little overboard on the photo parade here, but it was sooooo hard to cut myself back. Seriously. Fabulous. Country. I'll never forget the time spent staring at the David. Not because he was a massive naked guy, but because of the incredible awe inspiring detail. To imagine some man looked at a big old slab of rock and was able to find a work of art inside. Truly astounding. Not a sight to be missed. Of course, it's also not a sight to be photographed, so you'll just have to put up with more pictures of me and Laura posing. I had a rather powerful influence on her as you can see :D
From Italy we scurry along to Berlin for a fabulous week long stay with Ben and Sarah. As a special note, it was during this week of trekking about the incredible city by myself, that I spent time trying to figure out just how life might be if I got to know Mark better. Never did I guess what was coming.

Did I mention how hard it was to narrow down my photo selections. And, well...um...just what a poser I've become? It can all be clearly evidenced here, even without my written description.
The next stop on this tour is Poland. This last excursion with Laura and our boss Kelly, was a quest for the marvelous pottery that is hand crafted there. We even rented a car for this trip. Seeing how much I love driving, and how living in Europe means very little opportunity for this pass time, I was overjoyed by the fact that neither of these lovely ladies know how to operate a standard transmission, thus making my driving skills essential.

Last but not least, I had the chance to travel to Nurnberg with Laura and her family when they came to visit. Being the most well traveled amongst us, and having been there at least twice before, I was in charge of making sure that everything went smoothly. Not to let this get to my little tour guide head, I naturally made a massive mistake that left us stranded in several wrong cities, only to have to take a very expensive taxi in the end. Not a mistake I'll make again let me tell you!

It's true what they say, Czech really is in the very heart of Europe. Making it an ideal starting off point for all your European travel dreams. If you want my advice, just go.