3 things plus one: Good Things Take Time

Those who know me well understand how much I value the creativity of others. This weekend, Eki and Lyong leave behind two little treasures, sketches of the house.  Eki sits in the driveway with a watercolor brush, paints, and good paper.

1. Everyone sees the world from their unique vantage. You can't force someone to agree with you. But you can invite them in, like Eki's sketches do, to see things from a new point of view.

Friday, February 25, 2022

It's a gloomy season with winds whipping up the valley. I sit in the shade of the porch roof when I work from home. This morning, I attend 3 online meetings back to back (7:00-12:00). My eyes and brain are tired. Looking at nature helps. So do endless cups of tea.

W and I eat lunch and I steal a quick nap before another meeting at 1:00. This one is in person and especially fun, a dissertation consultation about a project based in Indonesia. 

2. Even the smallest things may be worth a second look. To stretch my legs, I wander around the yard. The weed seeds have sprouted into 2' high plants (and growing), with pretty peppermint flowers

We're happy to welcome Eki and Lyong for the weekend. We eat a few meals out with them. I have to learn to cook rice! I don't make it to the satisfaction of locals. Too wet. To dry. Not done. Not washed well enough. You name it. 

Several of IbuA's meals lie in the freezer. For Indonesians, they're best eaten with rice. On our own, W and I would enjoy them with pasta, crepes, or potatoes.

To prevent a rice fiasco (yup, been there!), we walk to #NaraPark. We order pizza and a few other items to share, but W's bento box looks especially delicious.

Trees and other plants grow quickly - this is the view from our house when we moved in 7 years ago.

After a hard pruning, the trees are shorter. and the wall is stripped back. Cutting the huge benjamina ficus to it trunk and bare branches reopens sight-lines to Dago. What you can't see is the deep river valley between us and the mountain on the horizon.

"I suddenly have a view!" says Melvina from the upper balcony. The neighbors on our left have sunshine on their porch again, too. M's sick this week with a fever, sore throat, fatigue. Omicron? Who knows. The number of infections is high but few people bother with a doctor unless they're emergency cases. Everyone will probably get it at some point.

Saturday

One morning meeting is cancelled due to illness. The neighborhoods are full of sick people; we thank God for health, though we caught the first wave of COVID last year.

Our guests are in town for a family wedding day. They invite mutual friends Josh and Clau to stand in as representative "parents." (We're the grandparents and old people stay home.) PakG drops the young people at the wedding venue down the hill. Then he buzzes to the next city to get J&C: their car is in the shop for repairs.

As usual, the wedding couple and guests look smashing.

"I hardly recognized my nephew and his bride!" Eki exclaims. It's customary for a bride to be made up as beautifully as any film star. Eki and his sis enjoy the venue, gathering ideas for their own future from the beautiful decor.

When they return, they spend a quiet afternoon and evening. I make a German supper at home: sausages, veggies, and fresh-baked bread buns.

3. The unexpected is sometimes the most fun. W and I split one of the macaroons Clau sends over. The coffee flavor is indescribably light and enak (delicious).

Sunday

At 7:00, we walk over to #PinoTerrace for breakfast with our guests.

Back home, BIC is still online. The weather is overcast. It's windy on the porch as we watch the gathering. There are only spatters and sprinkles until 11:00, when the downpour starts.

Our guests head out about that time, waiting for a pause between showers before running to the taxi.

Daylilies are strewn on the grass.

The water hyacinths poke periwinkle-topped stems above the water. Pantone says periwinkle is the "color of the year" = imagine that, trendy blooms in our backyard!

Further over, the water lilies flourish. 4 of the new goldfish are dead, since Friday. Both little catfish go belly-up as well. Something in the water doesn't agree with them. Is it the city water that tops up the ponds? (Often iffy.) Maybe the finish on that old bathtub is wearing off? Next time we clean that tub out completely, we'll check. Meanwhile, the tadpoles flourish.

Monday

It's time to make sure newsletters are scheduled and create 4 videos for March. How can we be headed for the third month of the year already? I feel so bad for not hosting more events - BIC and otherwise - until I hear who's sick and who's doing ok. Stay home, people. Let's get this over with.

A young friend drops by in late afternoon. We sit on the porch for conversation, tea, and the donuts she's brought over. Sweetness all around.

And a bonus idea: take your time to work with what is in front of you. This face needs more glazes but slowly it is emerging on the repurposed canvas. It started as a quick sketch with a sharpee marker.

Art seems to find its own life if you wander through it with no specific mood or goal in mind. Anything can happen - and might still. I am waiting for what's next. Is it time to paint feathers on the hat? Maybe even a peacock feather or two ...

Up close, she's far more interesting. My hope is to quit when she's done.

Tuesday

Every Tuesday is "change the bedding" day. The mattress, new when we came, is still hanging on. Some sheets fit better than others: this one, on the small side, barely covers the mattress. Bedding is ironed after it line-dries to chase away bugs and other unwelcome hitchhikers. We don't have a clothes dryer: everything is hung on a line or rack, where it dries pretty much in the same amount of time as a dryer.

The team meets online as a team again. Meanwhile, our friend Kristi has made it across the Pacific Ocean and into her Jakarta quarantine hotel. She arrives in Bandung tomorrow or the next day. You'll meet her soon.

Just before lunch, I run errands on the next hill. Our destination is one mile away as the crow flies; 2.7 miles on winding mountain roads, and takes 20 minutes to drive. I pick up second-hand kombucha bottles on the way over to check out a piano.

The tropics are hard on instruments. When I open the top of the piano and take off the front, I spot a few felt ties that have broken off their hammers. The base clip is rusted shut. Termite frass is scattered on the floor under the keyboard. It's not a bad instrument, but better for early learners than for me. It won't hold up to the wear and tear of performance-level music. Back to my electronic keyboard. (= Uninspiring.)

I forget my credit card and pay for the eggs, onions, raw chicken, and vegetables with the rupiah in the back of my phone. Whew. Just enough.

The week hasn't gone as expected so far. We have gotten a lot of work done, enjoyed the company of young friends, and had a few short nights of sleep. I'm tired - and ready for a nap. You?

A question for you as you "let go" on your side of the world ... "In what ways might you learn more (and how might life be more interesting) if you didn't have to control things as they unfold?"

Read more:

*The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Psalm 27:1

*Jesus said, “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

Moravian Prayer: Jehovah God, light of all light, who shines through darkness and makes the night as day, transform us into vessels of light, walking toward you and dispelling all darkness. May all see your light and know the salvation that comes only through the blood of Jesus Christ! May all glory be yours, in his majestic name. Amen.