Mundane me

So ... Sunday was good.

I was late for church (as usual) which was more embarrassing than usual, because we now have a later service ... and I still missed most of worship. Eek. My keys did an unfortunate disappearing act as I was trying to get out the door, then my Bible ran away ...

But I sat with Adrian and Paul (though I didn't actually meet Paul 'til after the service).

Paul, it turns out, works with the Navigators here in Laramie and does recruiting for overseas missions work.

The New Thing I learned on Sunday: You can teach English as an overseas missionary with the Navigators. I thought it was all campus-oriented-type work, like what I experienced here in Laramie -- leading Bible studies and doing on-campus witnessing and discipling fellow students.

Oh, no -- you can be the confrontational weenie that I am and teach English and still tell people about Jesus ... which is cool. Paul started talking about a guy who teaches English in Djibouti (seriously -- when was the last time Djibouti made the news?), and since he's, like, the only person there teaching people English, he knows all the higher-ups in the country, and since the U.S. is eager to form relationships there, they helped him out, too. Very cool.

So that was Paul.

I had McAllister's for lunch with Adrian -- and ate the ginormous-est potato to ever grow in Earth's dirt. I had to take a picture of it. Actually, I found out today that it was likely two potatoes made to look like one, but for five bucks, I got the mondo Veggie Spud with cheese and tons of veggies, complete with friendly service by a thickly accented guy from Georgia who highly recommended the sweet tea (which, it turns out, you can buy by the gallon ...).

And then we went ice skating, which turned out to be a non-terror. I wish I had the on-ice confidence that some of the hockey skate-wearing kids had -- I did the I'm-going-to-fall-ungracefully windmill a few times, but I managed to stay upright and moving forward, which was better than sliding on my arse into the wall ... as I saw one fella do. I kept my dignity and my tush intact and unbruised.

The rest of the day was kind of dull, but considering that my legs felt good for nothing after an afternoon of sliding around on frozen water, dull was OK. I did watch the first installment of "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" on Masterpiece Classic, which is a depressing story, but it was also a good Sunday evening. I can't believe it's already been a year since the last installment of Masterpiece Classic, when they started with "Jane Eyre" and then kept us happy with film adaptations of all six Jane Austen novels. This year looks as though it will feature a lengthy tribute to Charles Dickens, so I made a trip to Night Herron to beef up my Dickens collection. I'll let you know how that goes.

caffeinated shyness

I was commending Andrea last night, over a fifth (maybe sixth) cookie and a cup of coffee, about how well-organized and highly involved our volunteer force is at the church and how well-organized the church is in general.

She laughed.

"You think so?" she asked, a little unsure.

"Andrea, for most churches, 'advanced planning' is maybe a week in advance. Mostly, they call each other up that morning and say 'hey! How 'bout we do this tonight or tomorrow night?' And then they do it. This? (I gestured around the house we were in, which was full to bursting with people who had just finished caroling and delivering cookies around town at the homes of people in the church who are ill) This wouldn't happen. This kind of planning just doesn't happen in most small churches in small towns like Laramie."

Andrea smiled.

"And we have a HUGE volunteer force!" I continued. "There are chances for anybody to be involved, on whatever scale they like. I can serve Jesus by serving coffee, and that makes me happy."

She beamed. Andrea's our volunteer coordinator. And then she told me that she thinks I'd be a good greeter, which made me laugh.

"I'd hide behind the bulletins ... 'don't look at me!'" I said, still laughing.

She laughed again, then told me I need to grow out of that.

She might be right.

In the meantime, I make some pretty good coffee.

And another thing ...

One more thankful:

Phil and Cat Martin (and Marge) here in Laramie, for opening their home to people who, for whatever reason, couldn't be with their families today ... even those of us who had to eat and run.

You guys seriously don't know what a blessing your hospitality was today. And your creamed pearl onions.

*****

And to Amber, who sent a picture message this morning from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. With great friends, you can see the world without getting out of bed (she also sent D.C. fireworks on the Fourth).

Wyoming Weekend

Actually, it was a Gillette weekend. A good weekend.

Mom and I spent Saturday garage-saling. I haven't been to a garage sale in years, and I was proud to have honed my scavenging skills among the racks of Nu2U, Goodwill, the ARC and Savers, because these skills helped me make a haul on Saturday. I came back to Laramie with considerably more than I left with.

That includes three boxes of books that I was ordered to clear out of the storage shed. In the whole scheme of the storage shed, three boxes (four, if you count the box of stuff I didn't want back) don't take up that much room, but ... I was really glad to get my original-edition Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden books back. I'd been wondering about those.

I'm scared for the next trip home, though. I think I'll have to tackle the bags (and bags and bags) of stuffed animals, and I'm not quite sure that I'm up to it.

Sunday was church and a potluck and lots people who I don't know but who apparently know plenty about me. It kind of makes me uncomfortable to have a conversation about my hopes and dreams with a person whose name I can't remember. When they get into boyfriends, I really get worried. How come they know so much about me, and I can't even remember their name?

I spent pretty much all of Monday with the Springers.

I passed along the joy of twirling to a 2-year-old. I got to get in hours and hours of baby talk and baby grins and baby squeals.

I tried to share the joy of Fat Tire with Brooke, but she said she doesn't like it as much as the lime-flavored Bud Light. I think she's crazy.

And I learned that some guy at Brooke's church was just dumped by his girlfriend and that this one fact ought to be persuasion enough for me to move back to Gillette. But she couldn't remember his name. Guess I'm staying in Laramie for now.

I also learned that 2-year-old girls, given a box of raisins at 9 p.m., will be mesmerized by "13 Going on 30."

I just need to get her to learn the phrases "I'm reading Jane Austen," "I need more shoes, Mom" and "Michael Phelps is awesome." And then my portion of Amelie's education will be complete.

But twirling was a good start.

Spent time with the folks, who still think that, despite a perfectly good and usable college degree, I should drive a truck in circles at a coal mine. The money's definitely better, but .... it would be in Gillette. We all know how I feel about that.

I attempted navigating the length of Highway 59. In the rain. On a weekend. I offered a fervent prayer of thanks that I arrived back home alive, physically unscathed, with my sanity intact. I also managed, after almost 30 years of calling Gillette "home," to take a wrong turn on my way home, because the orange cones were set up in a totally confusing way. Can't wait 'til it snows on that one.

Spent time with the dog, who is still terrified of traffic and practically wrapped himself around my legs for the hour-long duration of our walk in the rain. If not for the paranoid clinging, I think it might have been a considerably shorter (drier, warmer) walk. But who knows. Charlie (the dog) met his first bunny and his first herd of antelope, and he couldn't understand why neither wanted to be best buds with him. He looked a little hurt when they all just ran away from him. And then he went back to wrapping himself around my legs.

So yeah -- good weekend. I was sad to have to come back today. I'm ready for another vacation.