Quotes from Jonathan

"They're both French Roast. This one says decaf, this one is silent. Silence is caffeinated!" Jonathan

"Your burp cloths are just like North Korea." Jonathan

In which I mistake my child for a breakfast food

Don't worry, she's fine.

This morning my sweet husband let me sleep in. After he got out of the shower, he came back in and said, "Can I bring you an egg?"

"Ooh, yes! Though what I really want is coffee. CAFFEINATED coffee, please."

So he brought me Meg and went down while I fed her. We followed in due time, and sure enough, that elixir of caffeinated happiness was perking and smelling wonderful, but there were no frying pans or eggs or anything egg-related around.

So I said, "The coffee smells wonderful! Thank you! Did you decide not to do the eggs?"

He gave me a look of complete bewilderment. "What eggs?"

"Didn't you ask if I wanted eggs? Earlier?"

"No..."

"But..."

"Are you sure you didn't ask me for eggs, and I said 'okay' without hearing you?"

"It was after your shower. I didn't dream it - I dreamed about the birch tree and the moon, but I'm sure I was awake about the eggs. You asked if I wanted an egg, and I said yes!"

He laughed. "I asked if you wanted Meg."

Oh.

Not that I don't love her, but she's not good for breakfast. So we had toast with strawberry jam.

Doings

We're all healthy again, and happily socializing!

On Sunday, we helped with Sunday school, and sat next to friends during the service. Then that afternoon, Josh and Rachel came by to retrieve the wedding presents we'd transported back for them, and were astonished at the pile of, um, other stuff that they were expected to find a home for: things like serving dishes, and disposable coffee cups, and the guest book, and poker chips. I explained that people just kept bringing stuff out to our car, and what were we to do? I hadn't even done most of the loading and packing. ;-) We had coffee, bread pudding, and a nice long talk.

It was a lovely sunny day, so after they left we went for a walk and gathered rocks from the creek bed for a scheme I had. We went home by way of Jonathan's law-school friend Kris's house, so we popped in and asked him to dinner. So he came and hung out, and after he left I brought in my potted plants from the front porch. Bertie Woozle, the Original Schefflera from my dentist's office days, had waxed and grown fat in his new bigger pot, so in the interest of fitting him inside our apartment I cut off some sprigs and stuck them in butter-dishes of water on the kitchen windowsill for a nice jungle effect. The other plants were pretty leggy from the summer too, so I trimmed them all round. We'll see if they survive inside. And we put Meg to bed, and went out with a chart for a spot of stargazing.

On Monday, Meggie and I got together with a friend of hers from the church nursery. They got along about as well as not-even-a-year-old girls are likely to; they seemed vaguely pleased with the company, and would occasionally swipe each other's blocks. Meg had a grand time with Story's toys, though, and played with all the ones with interesting sound effects. We mean to try it again next week at our house. Then we spent the afternoon grocery shopping and going to the library.

This morning we stuck around home. Meg and I bundled up (it was a cloudy, chilly morning) and swung, slid, and bounced up and down on the teeter-totter at the playground. She really got a kick out of it, I think. Then we looped round to the office and got a cup of coffee, and home.

For my afternoon's adventure, I made Rebecca's famous scones. I haven't made scones since I've been married because I was kind of intimidated and anyway thought I didn't have a blender that would work, but then I discovered a stick blender tucked way far in the back of my evil appliance-eating cabinet - apparently a wedding present - so I gave it a shot. And they were wonderful. I put craisins and chocolate chips in them.

Preparations

The Beatles, really strong coffee, and a bucket of mop-water go together really well. :-)

Grace and coffee

Ruhamah once told me a story about how, in a sense, when she was getting ready to graduate, she could feel God's grace for her college time lifting. It was just time for her to go, and His grace for her was going elsewhere, and she better not try to hang on without Him. I can't come up with an exact Scripture for that, but the principle seems sound.

And when I graduated, something of the same thing happened. There was enough grace for as long as I was supposed to be there, but it wouldn't have been good to stay longer. As a nice little extra, I got an illustration. I had precisely enough coffee grounds to last me and Kay through graduation morning, and none left over.

This afternoon I was setting up my pot of pinon coffee for my last day of work tomorrow, and once again I had enough in the package and finished it off. The grace and the coffee are sufficient.

I'll buy more coffee in Virginia. :-)

Kind of a fun morning

It's only 10:00, and it's been quite the morning already. Not bad, just strange.

It started about an hour and a half past schedule, when Daddy woke me up as he was leaving for work. This would be great, except I generally try to leave work at the same time as he does. Whoops! I dress quick like a bunny, like a flash of lightning, and try to get into my car Olwen. Only, the white car in the driveway isn't my car Olwen. It doesn't know me or answer my little button call. It's... what car is that? It's not the Intrepid Peabody. Oh! Right. It's my grandparents' car. Gotcha. So I figure Daddy must have taken Olwen to work today, which he's never done before, but oh well, and I start to go inside for keys to another car, when I find mine parked around the corner on the street. Very good. I now remember that late last night, after the wedding shower, I parked at the outside of the driveway and he must have had to move it in order to get Peabody out. Nice Daddy.

It's a lovely cool wet morning, very pleasant, and I get to work and make a beeline for the coffee pot. The good doctor asks, "Did you see the snow on the mountain this morning?"

Snow? On our mountain?

"Yes, it was snowing as I left for work this morning," he says. "Go outside and look! I've never seen it snow here in June before!"

By George. There was fresh snow on the ski hill--on June 5.

June 5, which is Dad's birthday. And I didn't think to wish him a happy birthday when he woke me up. So I emailed him and remedied that.

I finally got my coffee, and watched Susie work for about an hour, and then headed off to the MVD.

Ah, yes. The MVD. I went there yesterday too, because the day before that I'd gone to put my renewal sticker (good through May 2009) on Olwen's license plate and discovered the numbers didn't match. Yesterday I went to see what could be done about it, and knowing how MVDs work, I took a book. But unfortunately the only book I had in my car was Brothers Karamazov, which I felt bad about carrying in because it looked like a reflection on how long a wait I anticipated! But there wasn't anything to do, since it was all I had, so I read Ivan talking about the Grand Inquisitor while I waited. Anyway, after about half an hour, Andrea told me she couldn't do anything and directed me to the Santa Fe office, armed with a refund request sheet.

I wasn't sure why I was requesting a refund, and didn't know where the Santa Fe office even was, so I did some judicious Googling and called them. I found a real live person, Donna, who told me not to mess with refunds but just go back and ask them to change my number in the computer to match the plate I really have, and print me out a fresh sticker at no charge. Yay!

So this morning I went back. I'd provided myself with an Amelia book and read about her camel troubles. I also read the foreign license plates. There were two with Arabic script, so I puzzled them out. One read "Al-Iraq Baghdad" and had those cool Farsi numerals on it. :-) I got up to the counter and explained Donna's instructions, and the lady said, "What, Andrea didn't do that for you yesterday??" and zip-zip-zip, printed my new registration and sticker. Yay!

While I was out, I dropped by Ruby K's to pick up a cup of coffee and a to-go menu so the office can order takeout on Tuesday, because our supply representative drew us as Office of the Month and will bring us lunch; and then I stopped to get snacks. I went to Daylight for doughnuts first, but they were out, so I got scones from Coffee Booth instead.

Back at the ranch, I discovered that someone (young Joe) had brought a round of breakfast burritos from that haven of burritoey goodness, Chili Works. Food does that around here; it comes in bunches. Did I mention this office has really good eating?

AND Lisa-here-at-work talked her husband into letting her drive their new sportscar to work, so we went out and admired it. It's very blue and very fast. How fun!

So that was my morning, consisting of a birthday, a delinquent alarm, four breakfast places, the DMV, some coffee, several cars, and very little work. Kind of fun.

Fun with acupuncturists

There are actually three Beccas who work in this building, between our office and the one next door, and bright and early this morning, one of the other Beccas dropped in to pay me a visit. Really early. My coffee hadn't even finished perking.

"You've got a bunch of packages at the acupuncturist's," she said, gesturing. "Big ones."

I'd seen the UPS we-left-you-a-package-over-there note already, so I thanked her and said I'd go get them in a little bit. She gave me a funny look, but left, and I went to listen to the answering machine messages.

Halfway through message three, I heard our door bang open. Someone swept inside like a mighty wind. "HELLO??" she shouted.

I stopped the machine and went up. "Good morning, can I--"

"We have you packages!" she announced.

"Oh, thank you," I said. "I was going to come over in a little bit."

"You come NOW," she said. "I cannot work until you packages are gone!"

Oh. I come now.

These packages, know you, ought never to have been delivered on Friday at all. When Shirley ordered them, she specifically told them to wait till Monday because we weren't going to be here. Well, they delivered them Friday anyhow, and gave them to the acupuncturist. Why the acupuncturist took them if she couldn't keep them, I can't tell you. Sigh.

Anyway, I grabbed my extremely cute coral trench coat and went. We trailed over, up, around, and behind, to the acupuncturist's. She showed me into the little room, where four large 40-pound boxes awaited me. She did not offer to help. I hoisted one, went around, in front, down, and across. Back in my office, I explained things to Amelia and asked if she could possibly cover the front. She could, and as I trooped back and forth, I saw her greeting patients, answering the phone. Nice Amelia. Up, around, down, across, up, around....

I've done my weight lifting for the next month now. Personally, I think it was an evil scheme on the acupuncturist's part to drum up more business. But all was not lost: the coffeepot finished while I was out and about.

Travel is hard on the critters

Amelia: "Ethan left yesterday to go to Mexico, and D'Artagnan has been frantic because he will never get fed again. Because of course, if Ethan is gone, he will never come back, and of course nobody else could possibly feed him. This morning he was missing Ethan--he looked up at his bed very pitifully. But then he forgot what he was supposed to be doing and wandered off to play with his ball. That's dogs for you."

As for my pretty little Lilly-cat, she came home yesterday too, with my parents. Yay! They'd left her with Grandad while we were all gone, as she would have hated being home alone. Grandad took good care of her, but it wasn't the same, and Lilly was just about frantic with joy at coming back. She flopped herself down smack in the middle of the living room and reveled at being in her place. But then, every once in a while, we'd hear her set up a yowling somewhere in the depths of the house when she couldn't find us.

So we'd go retrieve her, and set her on somebody's lap, and she'd calm right down.

This was very endearing until she needed attention at four a.m. I'm sure it's good practice for being a mommy, but I'm not very awake this morning. I think my coffeepot just finished brewing...

Word of wisdom of the day

You should always wash your coffeepot.

The reason for this, you ask? Very simple, actually. You don't want your coffee to boil, because then it'll get bitter.

And a washed pot never boils.

Espresso maker

I got a new espresso maker for Christmas, but as I had first a cold and then company for the next couple weeks, I didn't break it out of the packaging until last Friday. That was fun--opening it felt like Christmas all over again.

I was very good and read all the instructions before I used it. It's one of those fancy ones where you put water in the boiler and it uses part of it for the espresso, and then you turn a knob and it turns the rest of it into steam for foaming your milk. Yummy!

So I made espresso, switched the knob, foamed my milk, and had steam left. So I figured I'd just make more espresso. I turned back the knob, turned away...

...and it exploded. Coffee grounds went everywhere. Milk, froth, and steam went everywhere. The grounds-basket, I believe, had actually come unscrewed, and spewed its contents.

Whoops.

I made coffee Saturday, and even foamed my milk, but left the espresso strictly alone.

But then Sunday afternoon rolled around, and I felt the need to conquer. It's just too humiliating to fear your own espresso maker. So I attempted the mystery, but waited too long and wound up with too much espresso and hardly any foam at all. Sigh. I tried a third time, and then it worked. No explosion, and enough and to spare of the steam. Yay!

On a winter's day

I ventured out today for my noontime walk. High, thin clouds covered the sky like a milk-glaze, thick enough to mute the shadows but not so thick as to obscure them completely. A stiff breeze make me appreciate my jacket. Pine needles sprinkled the sidewalk, possibly from last night's rain, and green moss and green grass stood out in shocking contrast from the ground's winter-dull beige. It takes so little moisture to make New Mexico green, even in December.

My office-plants are still surviving. The infusion of coffee grounds into the palm tree pot hasn't made it darker green, but it seems relatively happy in its paleness, sprouting new branches and all. Maybe it likes the diffused sunbeams that come through our window. I do; that's one of the biggest advantages of winter in this office. In summer, the suns's angle is too high to reach under the eaves.

I finally made it up the hill to Starbucks, where an old homeschooling buddy was kind enough to make me a cinnamon dolce mocha with whipped cream on top--or, in other words, a fancy hot chocolate. :-) It was (naturally) expensive, but the good cheer made a welcome contrast to the chilly outdoors and equally chilly fellow walkers outdoors. One of them was moving fast, eyes down, earphone firmly plugged into his ear. I didn't say hi as he passed; he pr'y couldn't have heard me anyway. Personally, a favorite part of walking over lunch is that I don't have music going, but rather get to hear birds (when they're in season) and traffic and trees rustling and whatever else is making noise.

We've been experimenting with XM radio stations lately. The goal is that perfect mix of Christmas music that dental professionals and patients alike can enjoy. I discovered there is one station that plays a lot of Celtic music, and I've been hunting for that for a while, and learned that the XM station namers call it folk. So that was fun. But they weren't playing Christmas music, exactly, and also Loreena McKennit's bagpipes got annoying. So we switched to--I don't know--nineties pop, for some inexplicable reason, and we changed that after they played Elton John, on the grounds it was uncivilized. Usually we dwell with the classical station. They definitely get into the Christmas spirit. But their downside is that the random sopranos also get into the Christmas spirit, or maybe some other kind of spirit, and one can only handle so much random-soprano-hood. Any nonmelodious wailing required in the office, I can supply quite happily, thank you.

The walk back got colder. I was headed into the wind, so I buttoned up and clung to my mocha. As days go, it really wasn't very nice, but as a specimen of weather it was fascinating. The breeze, the clouds, the sunbeams falling between trees where sunbeams really shouldn't have existed at all, judging from the color of the sky--yes, it was a good day for a walk.

Nice Monday

Christmas came early to my office.

I arrived this morning (and a blue, frosty, snowy morning it was) to find evergreen wreaths and garland and potted poinsettias all over. Becca had two paper snowflakes for me to put up, with the sticky note "Snowflakes for C--'cause it's after Thanksgiving. =)." Christmas music poured from the XM radio. A tiny space heater was aimed at my usual chair, spurting hot air most effectively, and on top of it all, the fridge had two fresh tins of COFFEE--special roast, special label.

Snow outside, and Christmassy comforts in--isn't that a nice way to start a Monday?

Thanksgiving doings

Well! I like Thanksgiving break; mine so far has been quite eventful. I've gone dancing and ice skating and learned to dirt bike; I've seen "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium" and read nine books of the Iliad; we had Thanksgiving dinner with my aunt and uncle's family, and had a different turkey and sweet potatoes but the same stuffing at our house; I've written a children's story, a skit, and several emails. We all went to a birthday party and Dad won a Slinky for recognizing theme songs and I won a Frisbee for hula hooping. We admired the tar-paper on the church roof (Thank you SO MUCH, C's and Limbacks), had six inches of snow, and were grateful the tar-paper was up before the snow. We went out for coffee twice. I've practiced guitar, I've typed up recipes, and we've talked to tons of people we haven't seen for ages.

Furthermore, we've decorated our house for Christmas, listened to hours of Christmas music, and determined that if anyone's pearl necklace went missing, the first place we'd look would be in amongst the mistletoe berries.

The quote of the week is definitely, "Ooh! It's shiny!" from "Meet the Robinsons." Though that status is closely followed by my mother's pronouncement, "College corrupts, and absolutely college corrupts absolutely."

This definitely calls for a good night's sleep. :-) How were y'all's holidays?

Sestina in a Time of War

This morning may be early, but the doctor
Arrived here earlier still. Up blinds, on coffee,
And while I wait a civilized hour to call,
I menace the staff with a rubber band
Inaccurately. The good doctor claims
This cheers him up, which makes more fun than sense.

My newer potted plant assents
To the goodness of the day. The doctor
Knew it was a schefflera; it claims
Its name and place by sprouting leaflets. Coffee
Steams beside an idle rubber band,
A still life to a soundtrack of rehearsed calls.

The details vary, but I make a call
With a punchline much the same. “Since
You made this appointment” (note a rubber band
Being loaded by the doctor),
“Will you come?” I cover my coffee;
“Yes,” he says, as it lands, and “Great!” I proclaim.

“Yes,” I tell the patient, “I’ll send your claim
Today; it takes about two weeks. Please call
Me if you don’t hear back in a month.” My coffee
Has grown cold. “Eighty-three and no cents
For today.” He jokes, “No sense, eh?” The doctor
Laughs. I say, “No sense at all,” and hide the rubber band.

The patient safely gone, the rubber band
Comes out. I grin and claim
He’ll never hit me; the doctor
Gets in a rather nice shot. I take a call
And zing him back, and we rescind
All mockery. Ha! I promptly I spill my coffee.

Nothing keeps you mortal like cold coffee.
Paper towels mop off the soggy rubber band
And I blink demurely as a well-sent
Loop hits my ear. Again the phone claims
My attention, as a teary call
Asks to talk to the good doctor.

The doctor turns toward his call
And I aim my rubber band. Peace, you claim,
But this shot looks perfect. The scent wafts up from new-poured coffee.

I blame the cultural experience

Some days are just weird. Today is among them.

I attribute this weirdness to last night, when I stayed up till midnight watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. I'm glad I watched it, but it was a cultural experience, and therefore slightly disturbing. That knocked my sleep schedule all out of order, and this morning I woke up right in the middle of a dream, which didn't want to release me to the land of the waking.

I had fun picking an outfit; I finally went with a variant of my "I-am-an-artiste!" ensemble, which was inspired by--I kid you not--an ad for laminate floors out of a magazine. I don't have the shoes to really carry it off like I wanted, but I think it'll muddle along with chocolate ballet flats. And enough bronze bangles and long earrings for an obscure rani. And--just for kicks and giggles--I did my hair in a braid instead of up, like I've worn for work for about the last fifteen weeks running.

I finally make it out of the house, and discover when I get to work that I went off and left my breakfast in the microwave. And I didn't have my morning tea at all, so I had my morning tea at work instead of my morning coffee.

Shirley agrees today is weird, but I don't know why. I'll ask for details later. :-)

Even the weather is acting up. It was a lovely clear morning, blue as blue, with just a few low-lying strands of mist hugging our mountains. Only, upon inspection, the mist was actually nasty brown smoke from our controlled burn which is going to turn into three controlled burns this weekend. There's fire, and then there's fire, and this fire has been going for two or three weeks. It can go away now, in my opinion.

I think I need coffee. Maybe coffee will normalize things.

First snow

Good things come when it snows.

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-ting-a-ling too...

We had a few half-hearted flurries last Wednesday. I saw the clouds and sniffed the air, and thought it looked like snow, but figured it was too early. But the next morning they told me we got some anyway.

But the fire inside's delightful, and since we've no place to go...

We had a whole afternoon of the white stuff yesterday. It was a Sunday--hurray!--and Dad and I stayed home and enjoyed ourselves. We built a roaring fire and shared a big pot of Blumenthal Special Roast coffee, and I made pinto beans and cornbread for dinner. There was a ball game on, and a Scrabble game (which Dad won by three points, grr!), and a lovely pile of books. I spent time on Iona with a modern pilgrim and in the court of Louis XV with Madame de Pompadour, which was a combination.

The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh through white and drifted snow...

Mom and the sister came home from Grandma's yesterday and arrived in time for the fire and a batch of brownies (thank you, soror mea) and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you.

Then Jonathan called. It would have been lovely weather for a sleigh ride, here; but where he was, it was a perfect night for sitting in the gazebo and watching the stars over the lake. But a phone call is a good thing to receive in the snow, whichever end the snow is at, and one can hope for a white New Year.

Just like the ones I used to know, where the treetops glisten and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow...

This morning dawned (very late, it being this time of year) blue and cold. The ground was just frozen at my house, but as I drove up the hill, I found a thin white frosting that thickened into a ruffly layer over everything. And now the sun is up properly, and the eaves have all turned into slim flashing waterfalls, and the yellow leaves on the willow opposite are shaking themselves, much as to say, "What was that?"

In the meadow we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown...

Virginia

My blog, as some of you may have noticed, has been rather quiet this last week. I flew out to Virginia, and had no internet access to speak of; but now I'm back in the desert and the doctor's office and cyberspace. :-) Pretty much everything this week involved hanging out with Jonathan. I shall attempt not to use his name more than, oh, every other word, but you can be sure he was very present.

Kay picked me up at the airport Wednesday night and took me out to dinner. Jonathan was waiting for me the moment I arrived on campus. :-)

Thursday I helped Juli watch one of the professor's little girls, went on a brief photo rampage, and socialized all day. I socialized with the wing girls, and Dr. Libby, and Guthrie and Turner, and Dr. Hake. Then Jonathan's mother came, and Jonathan and I had dinner with her. I think we all enjoyed ourselves heartily, and then I went to Blackberry's that evening. It's a charming coffee shop in what used to be Cami's Paperie, another establishment I adored, and Blackberry's is almost good enough I didn't miss Cami's.

Friday was my birthday. We went for a nice long walk, bought a great many books, made it back in time to watch the soccer team quash Christendom in an awesome overtime shootout, and then the Peasalls did a concert! I can get excited about that! And then I got to socialize with Ben and Lisa and Kanary, and it was good.

Saturday... oh yes! The alumni meeting. That afternoon, Lisa and I went to a colonial fair, and in the evening we had a lovely swing dance.

We got up, with some difficulty, and went to church Sunday morning; I went to Jonathan's church and met one of Kay's students from last year. We met up with Ben and Lisa for the afternoon and touristed in Alexandria. I can recommend it. :-) I even got to go to evening worship, and oh, it was good.

Monday was my last day on-campus, and I spent most of it off campus with my friend Sarah. We hung out at her house (cute) with her husband and son (also cute) and then had lunch at a Mexican place in Leesburg that claimed to have New Mexican food. It was all right, but not very New Mexican. Then I hung out with Jonathan a bit more, and then we went over to Ben and Kanary's for dinner and Macbeth commentary. We'd been waiting for that night a long, long time. I was actually there for half an hour longer than at Lisa's house, which is where I slept afterwards. :-)

And Tuesday I came home. That was my trip. Everyone who kept me, visited with me, gave me birthday wishes or presents, or was otherwise wonderful: thank you so much. It was good to see you. :-)

Art and Christianity (a nice broad title)

This article by Camille Paglia caught my attention (thank you, WorldMagBlog)--and she says art needs religion. The article does get crude in places, and also she's overly hard on the Puritans, but if you're up for it, as Dr. Bates put it, just blush and keep reading.

As for my two cents: yes, Protestants tend to be dismal at the visual arts per se. We just don't do that. I live in Northern New Mexico, and I love the way artistic whatsits pop out of the woodwork--literally, most of the time. I get a kick out of adobe and tile and murals, and the restaurants and coffee shops selling original paintings as a matter of course, and how Santa Fe fights graffiti on the power boxes by preemptively spray-painting odd designs on them. And I have frequently noticed how the artistically interesting stuff generally comes from people with whom I disagree theologically, philosophically, and/or morally. I would love it if we could put paintings of the saints in our church hallways--but I doubt that's going to happen.

But there are hopeful signs.

Scrapbooking is one of them. My church ladies, a whole contingent of them, are skilled scrapbookers. It may not be "high art," yet, but it's particular and a labor of love, and I suspect the itinerant Italian church painters weren't actually that "high" themselves--sort of like Shakespeare, who gets a halo of greatness that almost blots out his earthier moments.

Another thing: Paglia caught onto the rise of homeschooling, but she didn't mention how artistic they can be. Not all of them, of course, any more than all public schoolers are. But a lot of my homeschooled acquaintances are very accomplished musicians, or literary critics, or authors, or pencil-sketchers, or actors and directors, or filmmakers, or dancers. Homeschoolers are quirky, but they tend to follow what they love creatively.

We may not make murals of the saints, but we do make movies about them, fact and fiction, and some of the movies are even pretty decent. Just off hand, I can remember Amazing Grace, The Passion (all right, which is of Christ Himself), End of the Spear, and Second Chance.

Paglia is exactly right that we've mostly cut ourselves off from the artistic tradition, and that ought to be remedied. But people create: it's an imago Dei thing, and they can't help it. Art is not dead in evangelical circles, but maybe it's a little--blind?

A spot of something

"May I have some coffee?"

I looked at the patient. She elaborated.

"You said, last time I was in, I could have some coffee. Is that still okay? I'd like cream and sugar, a lot of cream and sugar."

Now that she mentioned it, we had offered her some. I woke up. "Absolutely! It'll be just a minute."

Back to the back; start a pot of coffee, find and wash an unidentified but very pretty mug, put in a good slosh of the highly preserved hazelnut cream and a spoon of sugar, wait for the very moment the coffee got done; then back to the front. I don't get to make people coffee very often. She said it was really good. Aww...

<:3 )------

"When we get our new office, it'll have to be a dental office and tea-and-coffee room. It'll be an English pub theme, with a coffee pot, and steak-and-kidney pie, and pictures from Oxford--"

"And cheese," I interjected.

"And cheese. And lovely serving wenches."

At which point he returned to his crown prep.

Life is just a bowl of cherries

For those of you who were wondering why I was so difficult to find last week, I have an excuse: Jonathan came to visit. We had a perfectly lovely time, full of pleasantnesses and awkwardnesses and just odd things. It's rather amusing, so I thought I'd tell you all about it. :-)

I picked him up in Albuquerque in the midst of a high gale, and we went to lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant. Travel is hard work, so I took him home after that. The wind was blowing hard (someone said it clocked at 80 mph on top of our ski hill), and the traffic was its usual loopy self, and we amused one another with bad-traffic horror stories.

We had just gotten onto some other topic when my cell phone rang. I had Jonathan get it, since I was driving, and it was Amelia and Becca from work. The computers had gone out. This never happened when I was at work; it must have waited for Amelia. I gave them a couple troubleshooting ideas via Jonathan, none of which worked, and finally they called Brady, our tech magician. The winds had blown out our internet connection.

Anyway, we finally made it home and Jonathan got to meet my parents for the first time. It was a decent success; we had dinner and taught Mom to play Lord of the Rings Risk, and she promptly cleaned up at it. We paused the game about eleven-thirty and decided it could wait till the next day. The Shire and the northlands had a lot of blood spilt and changes of government, and Dad took the far east, while I got pushed further and further out of Gondor and Harad.

Thursday morning, we got up and went to Santa Fe with Becca and Josh, the debater. We had a lovely time: parked at Borders, walked around, visited a couple chapels and had lunch at a pizza place. Downtown Santa Fe is an excellent place if you like artwork. Murals and plaques and statues crop up in odd corners like lichen and mushrooms in wetter climes, and you can have a lot of fun if you're with reasonably interested people and have a camera. The Sanctuario de Guadalupe had a series of sculptures that we spent a good twenty minutes looking at, trying to figure out. They were meaningful, intricate, and even doctrinally sound. I was pleasantly surprised. The Sanctuario also had on display what appeared to be a sponge in a bowl, and we never did quite figure out if it was sacred or very, very mundane.

We also visited the state capitol building. Josh and Becca and I knew our way around it from TeenPact and teased each other about not going up the stairs single file. Rowdy, I know. Our Round House really is round, as in, if you start going you keep going, and the best way to find your direction is by the art on the walls! Becca and I got split up from the guys on the third floor, and when we went looking for them, they were nowhere to be found. We walked through a pack of receptionists, who looked at us curiously and said two guys had gone that way, but we went that way and dead-ended in front of the Governor's Office. There being nowhere else to go but down, and knowing that if we moved we'd probably chase the guys in endless circles, we planted ourselves right in the middle of a boy scouts' tour and listened to the guide explain about a painting. We didn't blend in terribly well because the boy scouts were not only all little boys and their mothers, but also wore matching tangerine-colored tie-dyed shirts, but it was better than nothing! Eventually Jonathan called, and we explained where we were, and they found us. It was pretty funny.

We finished up at Borders for a coffee break and copy of Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), then home for small group, and after that the conclusion of the Risk game (the forces of evil took Middle Earth. Again), and after that Jonathan and I went stargazing.

I've got to admit a weakness for stargazing. I've spent several summers understanding the part of the sky visible from my backyard; which is a fair amount of the north and east. But I can't go to a better site alone at night, and can't often find someone to come with me. But that night, oh that Thursday, Jonathan and I went out to the wild lands between my house and the river canyon. It was a dark, clear night. The moon had not yet risen. There were no clouds at all, and even the dust and the winds had died down. It got cold: the next morning we discovered the low had been 46 degrees, and it was rather uncomfortable being chilled on top of the day's sunburn. But a more perfect night for stargazing I'd never seen. The Milky Way was out, and we identified every major constellation up--even Leo, which I'd never seen before.

Friday morning we got up and took CPR training. It was mandatory for me, but the good doctor had said to bring Jonathan along. So we are now CPR certified and everybody has met one another and more or less likes each other. I got drama queen points: in the groups, we had to act out how to use the AED, and they cast me as the distraught relative. Ohhhh yeah. :-)

We just messed around that afternoon uptown and then made a Wal-Mart run. I think we visited the historical museum, the library used book store (yay quarter carts and 5-for-a-dollar sci fi sales!), and Ruby K's Bagel Cafe. That evening was the church movie night, and the movie was Aladdin. I can work the equipment in the sound room, but it's always sort of uncertain whether it'll actually turn out. Jonathan, on the other hand, positively gloried in it. He understands it. This makes me happy. The movie night was decently attended: Becca came with her mom and sisters, and Amelia came with her brother, and a family from small group showed up also, so it was mostly connections of people Jonathan already knew. On the way home we dropped by the Overlook and then stayed up till midnight talking.

Saturday we had intended to go hiking up at East Fork, but the weather forecast was for large hail, heavy thunderstorms, and wind, especially in the mountains. When Daddy told me that, I thought he was making it up, but it was true. So we decided perhaps it wasn't the best day for a hike and my parents went driving up towards Colorado. Jonathan and I stayed home. We meant to do nothing, but it didn't quite work out. We made a valiant attempt to fix two bikes so they'd be rideable, but it turned into one of those if-you-give-a-mouse-a-cookie projects, and we eventually gave it up as Not Worth the Effort. We watched the Tempest movie and went through the pictures and quotes. We ate lunch and played Quiddler.

That afternoon I started housesitting for a couple that lives here in town. Someone had to sleep over at the house, and I'd been thinking it'd make more sense for that to be Jonathan. So mid-afternoon we trotted over with all his stuff and to get situated. As I read through the instructions left for me, one of them about halfway down the second page was that she'd prefer I stay and not him. Okay. We packed him back up, went to my house, packed me up (including a bunch of movies), and went back over.

First priority: mood music. I think I wanted Tchaikovsky. So I popped a CD into their DVD player, only to discover that the DVD wasn't sending a signal to the TV, which we could turn on but couldn't turn off, and also the volume wouldn't go down. It was the oddest thing. We eventually put it on a mostly-blank channel and it went off by itself after a while. I haven't dared turn the TV on since.

Dinner was definitely the next priority. It's always a bit of an adventure cooking in a strange kitchen, but I found pasta and spaghetti sauce and even pots to cook them in, and managed comfortably. We did a bit of swing dancing (thank you, lovely computer Chrysophylax!) and settled in to watch Knight's Tale before returning Jonathan to my parents' house for the night.

Sunday morning I stopped by home and rode to church with them. After that, we went on that hike. It was a great day for it. The mountains were green, the rocks were dry, and the sun bright. We tripped along the East Fork trail, stopping to watch climbers and (safely out of their field of view) try a little modest climbing ourselves. Daddy got a picture of us before we started and after we got down. I leave the middle to y'all's imaginations, but someone's glasses suffered horribly in the attempt. It probably would have been better if we'd had ropes and clamps and things.

The end of the trail was spectacular. The stream widens out and goes over a waterfall maybe three feet high and thirty across, and chatters its way through a canyon resembling mossy Swiss cheese, with little indentations and caves along both sides. Soon it comes to a slightly wider canyon, and a second and taller waterfall beyond that. The hardy adventurer, if he likes, may remove his hiking shoes and wade along the stream to the second falls, crossing first to this side and then over to that, and not get wet above his knees.

We were hardy adventurers! Only the rocks underwater were not only sharp but incredibly slippery, and their treachery overthrew us all. Jonathan did pretty well, except he was trying to do it barefoot and went really slowly. We found him a nice walking stick, and that helped. Then I started looking tottery and he inquired if I'd like a hand. No, I was fine, I said, and promptly went whoosh and landed sitting in a foot of water. I stood up and laughed, and Daddy had me sit back down so he could get a picture! After that I accepted Jonathan's help when he offered it, and we didn't even both get a ducking as a result. Daddy, on the other hand, turned around and fell right in, camera and all. Don't worry, the camera still works. But my flip-flops may never quite be the same.

That evening we picked cherries off the tree in the front yard of my house-sitting house and made a cobbler out of them. Cherries are extremely happy.

But Mondays follow Sundays, and Monday was his last day. It was very dismal. I worked in the morning, but we met Josh and Tim for lunch, and after debated what to do until dinner. We discovered we didn't actually want to do anything so much as hang out with each other, so we did exactly that. We watched The Mummy Returns and tried to sort out its metaphysical assumptions. Then back to my parents' for dinner, a MacGyver episode, The North Avenue Irregulars, and talk until we were too tired to make sense any more.

I picked up him and Mom at an ungodly hour and drove to the airport. The light was dramatic: light and shadow on the mountains and the green prairie, and a mellow sunrise. We got him there in plenty of time for his flight. I did not cry. And he did, after sundry difficulties, make it home.

The week was far too short.