Home sweet home

Monday

We unpack everything and put it away. In the early evening, I brave the mosquitoes to see how the avocado tree is doing. It is brimming with fruit. I pick a few low-hanging avocados and bring them inside.

"The squirrels are eating them, biting into them so they drop to the ground," Melvi and the helpers tell us in dismay. Our rodents are as pesky as the Canadian squirrels that take a bite or two of one of Mom's apples and move on to the next one.

"They're not ready until they develop bumps on the skin," the yard man tells us the next day. Oops. Picked a little soon.

Tuesday

I write a few lines in an art journal, reviewing the month of October. I'll put artwork in it later. It's a good way to process and decompress.

One of the first things on my home list is to clean the algae-green fishbowls on the porch. They get scrubbed inside and out while the fish languish in the pail reserved for such endeavors.

The fish are hardy and don't seem to mind a complete water change. They thrive after such a cleaning: we remove all the fish and the old water every week or two. Then, replace it with fresh filtered water, dump the fish back in, and the bowl is good as new.

The Bali hand-blown vase is a stunner even without fish. The blue glass glows against the tree stump it is poured onto. We bought this 2' one because, even without the base, it can sit at an angle without tipping. (I like options.)

The yard looks rough but it's the yard man's day to work. He prunes the hedges, tidies the back wall, and climbs up the trees to trim them back.

I ask the helper for papaya flowers and leaves but the tree has grown very high. She pinches one of our expensive kitchen knives between a slit in a bamboo pole and tries to chop off some flowers, reaching across to the tree from the second floor. She has little luck.

The tree is just too far away. "We won't have much today," she laments. But there is a lot to eat, 25' up the trunk.

We ask the yard man to chop it off at 10'. He ties the ladder to the tree, climbs up, and hacks away with his machete.

The treetop crashes into the backyard. Now IbuA has lots of flowers and leaves to choose from. The flowers are bitter. And yummy.

"Not too bitter for you," she asks. "I didn't add casava leaves and roots like usual." Nope, I thought maybe reentry had made my taste buds more sensitive, but I like the greens anyway.

One of the heavier chores is bringing down the Christmas tree and some ornaments. They're stored up a steep flight of stairs in the loft so the helpers work together. W and I are too jet-lagged to think of putting it up tonight.

W makes our supper: IbuA's fresh pretzel buns with brie he brought from a Texas grocer. That cheese has traveled! It's a bit tangy but flavorful.

And then he's out like a light. I stay up a little later to try to regulate the time zones. "Don't bother," says my inner clock. It's awake and ready to roll me out of bed at 2:00 a.m.

Wednesday

No walk today. We go straight to the office to record the next 3 Sundays. And then we stroll down the street to #NaraPark for breakfast at #PinoTerrace. W has noodles, but my dim sum and popcorn shrimp are delicious. The chef waves hello and many servers come to say hi. It's like being home for real.

The yard man is back for a go at the rest of the landscape. The flowerbeds and 2 stone bathtubs at the back of the yard (I know, I know!) are full of weeds. He plants rose campion seeds and something else I plucked somewhere. We'll see what comes up.

We have no energy in the afternoon. I enjoy fresh mangos delivered by DrW and a slice of bread baked by IbuS today. So grateful for provisions and good neighbors.

Thursday

Driving out of the neighborhood, a new house towers over the lane. The masons are busy laying the second storey of bricks between concrete frames. They'll plaster over the rough brick. And that's a house wall in Indonesia.

It's our first time in the hills in a long time. Combined with elevation, we don't expect an easy hike. But it's not bad. We keep backtracking, losing our way in the overgrowth. (Next week, W will have it all sorted out with Mr. Google and his maps.)

The forest is cool and wet as we start out. A few hundred meters in, the trails are almost completely overgrown. The dogs get lost a few times, running ahead of us. When they disappear, we whistle to help them find us.

It's the best kind of exercise - up and down, back and forth. There are a lot of trees to scoot under and over, toppled across the trail as the rainy season loosens their roots.

Lunch is at Pipin's Japanese restaurant (Matsuri). The bento box is delicious but too big to finish alone. We share.

Friday

It's an office morning. Mangos are in season so I take one along. Yum - breakfast on the office porch. Many meetings start at 7 (or earlier if they're international). After our walk around the neighborhood, it's early to work. Mind you, by noon, I don't have a full day left in me.

The house goes from light and summery to festive. Here's what we came home to last week.

We start with this, table top and tree, pictures gone. Gradually, as things come down from storage, we do this ...

and by the weekend, it looks like this. Slipcovers make it easy.

Things keep moving around until they find their place. The prettiest thing is still Bailey, who runs around wondering what's happening.

A bouquet of red-dyed pussy willows graces the entry, from Chinese New Years a few years ago.

The big tree is done.

For years, we haven't stripped our two little trees down after Christmas. We wrap them up, store them,  and then shake them out and straighten the branches. One goes in our bedroom and one sits upstairs for guests to enjoy.

The nook is almost done. "You know that's a Batak cloth on the table, right?" says our Batak tenant.

I got it as a gift for teaching Research Writing to university professors on her island. I love the colors. (Yikes - what's with that mural? The outline was sponged onto the wall over a year ago. I have brushes and paints ready for the surge of energy that will finish it.)

Saturday 

W hears a rat rustling around in the night, puts out a trap, and captures the rodent within minutes. I'm always glad when I don't have to do it.

Our friend Dr. Ilsa sends copies of her book on the pandemic. "Just the facts, from a medical point of view," she explains. "You can give it to others to dispel some of the rumors." She's a researcher as well as a medical doctor.

Working at home, a fragrant gardenia draws me to the edge of the porch. I pluck a bloom and toss it into the little solar fountain where it swirls around and scents the air.

On the other side of the porch, the chandelier bush has several 18-24" clusters hanging in pink splendor.

Sunday

It's one of our last Sundays "on the porch" for BIC Gatherings. Soon, Advent is here with the soft launch of "in person." We'll have to get out of our pyjamas, I guess. I'm joking: we walk early so are dressed, whether at home or away.

During the night, my head fills with details for year's end. We have to plan 4 Advent Sundays, a Christmas Eve gathering, and a Reflections & Resolutions Sunday to round out the season. I start writing and have a checklist page before I know it. Then to sleep!

Monday

It's back to work in full swing. Alice and I go through the lists for the upcoming relaunch. We check the supplies already on hand. I write a letter for the Advent package, confirm some orders, and assign printing, volunteer recruitment, and decor. I ghost-write a few requests and send them onward for customization.

A couple drops by, asking for an official letter so a friend from BIC can get care. I write it. Alice translates, prints it, and stamps it with the BIC logo. I sign it and hand it over. At her car, we say hello to the wonderful lady we haven't seen in almost 2 years.

Tuesday

There's mid-night meeting (well worth it!) and another at 7am. By mid-afternoon I'm ready for a nap. That's the dilemma: do you sleep midday and risk being awake at night? We are almost past jet lag but sympathize with our Brazilian coworkers, who arrived in Bandung yesterday.

Read more:

*God, I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night. Psalm 63:6

*Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; His love endures forever.

Give thanks to the God of gods; His love endures forever.

Give thanks to the Lord of lords; His love endures forever.

To him who alone does great wonders, His love endures forever

Who by his understanding made the heavens, His love endures forever. Psalm 136: 1-5

*Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Moravian Prayer: Loving God, in the quiet stillness of night and the frantic pace of day, you know and acknowledge the concerns that weigh on our hearts. Allow us to find comfort and peace in this assurance. Amen.