An eruption and decisions to be made

Saturday, September 5, 2026
Every September, friends post their anticipation of the fall season. "My favorite time of year," writes one. Magazines and blogs herald fall decor and food. And every year I get a thrill out of "It's still summer!" where we live. I don't look at pictures of falling leaves or snow. There's no longing for cooler temperatures and no envy of red and orange decor or pumpkin-flavored foods = we don't miss the 4 seasons. "Wet" and "dry" are dramatic enough, so long as the day climbs to 80F/25C.

A friend confirms he'll be by next week for the logs from the downed durian tree. We have one more tree to cull, which can only happen when we have room for a wood pile.

Ooch, the sun shines on dusty kitchen windows . That's on the outside. Have they ever been cleaned? since we moved in? I take a sun-on-the-glass snapshot. We'll ask a yard guy to wash them and scrape off the slopped wood stain. The job needs someone comfortable on a tall ladder.

As we walk, a mom is taking her daughter to taekwondo. Parents and grandparents zip around on motorcycles, delivering children to school and clubs. Sometimes there are 4 children with one adult, perfectly relaxed and balanced with a lifetime of experience on the bike.

Outside the Padma Hotel, workers line up to continue building forest pathways through the valley.

Another building project starts. A neighbor has purchased the next lot. We've been told what the plan is, but who knows what will go. Neighborhood gossip is not the most reliable way to get news.

I find a place the 8"/ 20cm dry pod we brought home from Chanaya Resort yesterday. We didn't grow up here, so nature is endlessly fascinating. Sometimes Indonesians see stuff in the house and ask why there's a palm frond, a piece of bark, or a seed casing on display. We're admiring it, of course.

It's a brain-scrambling day. I have planned a cooking day with 4 separate new recipes. Since we're eating healthy, food needs advance preparation. 3 recipes are on the go when W asks me to join him at the vet. The old dog needs an exam since he can't close his mouth to eat. 

I close the windows, turn off the fans (it's still stinky in my office from dead rats in the attic), put away the recipes, turn off the ovens, and refrigerate the three bowls of ingredients.

When I'm ready, tea in the thermos, and all entries locked, W decides I don't need to go. He can write and the vet can speak English. I unlock the doors, open the windows, and restart. Except that the recipes have disappeared from saved photos and the open tab on FB has closed. The ingredient amounts don't match what I find again. Ugh.

I spend the morning pinch-hitting. I regularly cook dinners for 70-100, but I don't accept kind offers of "help." Once I'm in motion, several timers are offset, with a ding here and a clang there. Multiple checklists run in my head. What needs mixing? What's ready to go into the fridge? Have I washed the bowl so it's ready for the next mixture? Are the sausages ready so the next batches can go into the big ovens? That timer was for the toaster ovens, or ? Is the stove burner turned to low to simmer the meatballs? You see the dilemma. 

Answering questions or switching gears like today throws off the whole mechanism. I always feel bad when someone graciously offers their help on movie night or for a big event. Demonstrating - how to marinate, cook, or bake, where we are on the recipe page, and keeping track of the lists - would scramble the flow. Sorry! If I can start cooking at 4 or 5AM, the meal is ready and wrapped to retain heat within 5 hours. With "help," I'd be exhausted by stops and starts. It would take all day to make 3 meats, 3 carbs, vegetables, have desserts ready, and the serving pieces laid out. On the other hand, hosting a cooking class is another matter - that works.

Today, the seed crackers are a little wet and need extra baking time but they taste good.

The homemade chocolates are ok though the proportions are off. After putting the trays in the fridge, I have to take them out again to add chopped nuts and toffee cookies ... before the warm chocolate hardens. 

If I can find the recipe, I'll finish the lentil "tofu" this afternoon. How about the sweet potato brownies? I try those to make it by memory. Oh nevermind that: after the potatoes are steamed, the hand blender head is not in the drawer with the motor. The helper is off until Monday afternoon but replies to a WA: she doesn't know where she put it after washing. I check every kitchen drawer. No luck.

We'll have steamed sweet potatoes for lunch instead.

The vet tells W that Bailey, our oldest dog at 14, has a misaligned molar so he can't close his mouth to chew. Otherwise, he's healthy. The doctor's visit, including getting the tooth pulled and the meds, costs $16. They come home shortly after noon. Bailey scruffy but happy, content to eat a late meal of soaked kibble. He totally perks up over the next days.

Martin and Sayaka drop by in time to share lunch with us on the Porch. Sayaka gives W another intense session to recover d's and th's. Martin takes pictures around the Project for an organization that wants to send guests to stay with us next week.

Supper is a new kind of flat bread:
- 1X lentils (any kind) soaked 3 hours, drained
- 1.25X fresh water water
- 2-3 T mixed seasonings, like rosemary, salt, pepper, garlic powder, etc.
Blend until smooth. Heat a non-stick pan on medium-high heat. Spread batter in a pan with a spoon  (with or without 1 T oil). Bake 2 minutes per side. We fill the soft wraps with hummus, basil, tomato pesto, and homemade yoghurt.

We leave the dogs behind and go on a village walk: usually the lanes are full of cats, Anton's kryptonite. We can only pass through the kampung's narrow gang without him. This is the main street for many houses. Motorcycles can squeeze through. Cars cannot.

Flowers lend beauty, planted along fences and streets.

This unusual shrub blooms a few times a year.

A 20-meter /60' tree is filled with purple flowers.

Someone is getting married so the streets are full of cars and motorcycles. See the hand-woven sign?

I hang a small physical whiteboard on my wall, outlining next week's basic tasks and appointments. The list is long. On paper, I write the detailed instructions.

Sunday
I wake up coughing a few times. Apparently the volcanic dust from the ongoing eruption between our island (Java) and Sumatra has reached our city. Check out Anak Krakatau here.

W and I attend the Gathering after a regular walk with the dogs. We say goodbye to a daughter of the heart who is returning to Ghana after graduating with her Master's degree. Well done, Priscilla!

We pray with several people afterwards as we enjoy the Community Table. We eat at Ethnic, where we order my favorite rice, vegetables, and spiced beef stew. We come home to beauty. #TitikBadudu has brought over her flower arrangement. It waits on the terrace. Oh wow.

The roses! are striped shades of lavender, as though God has had fun with a watercolor brush for an hour or two.

The closer you look at the bouquet, the more beautiful it is. I take it in from all sides in as I hydrate the oasis.

Set up on the dry terrace (the former shallow end of the pool), I watch as W skims the pool's surface. Thousands of petals drop from the tree above, edging through the shade cloth covering the water. They swim or sink in masses. 

How's the water? "It's nice once you're used to it," W assures me, though I watch him take sharp breaths because it's so cold when he gets in.

Something is squeaking in the big dog crate. Juno has caught a bat, graciously given it a heart attack without mauling it (soft mouth of a retriever), and brought it as a gift. No thank you. But good doggie for trying to please us.

Monday
I try out the newest guest bed when I wake in the middle of the night, my throat scratchy and dry. I check the volcanic ash index (below). We have about the same pollution level as usual. The difference is that dirt mostly dissolves, while the grit of volcanic eruptions is like scraping your skin and respiratory system with tiny pebbles. The car and porch are covered in fine particles as the volcano continues its activity 250 km / 160 miles away.

I make a long checklist of tasks for when I wake. The week's chores are diverse and the instructions wide-ranging. There's, "Don't wash volcanic dust into the pool," "Get the pillows and blankets from the back where they've somehow been stashed. Make sure they're clean," and "Make sure the sheets and beds are ready by Wednesday afternoon." Every person gets their own task list when they arrive for the day.

We walk the loops quickly, leaving the older dogs behind so we can get back in time for some online meetings. This was yesterday:

Today we cheer on Maxis restaurant, whose employees swept the slippery leaves off their side of the street. It's safer and greatly appreciated. The street is 1 1/2 lanes wide, so pedestrians must walk on the edge to let cars pass. Motorcycles zoom between.

We have indoor and outdoor staff working here, but on the first Monday of the month, they work irregular hours. There's more to keep track of, including finding and wrapping birthday cookies for a friend, instead of handing that off.

On an early call with Keelee, I realize my mind is whirring. That's why I need a detailed checklist for the day ahead. Mirroring is the most reflective kind of listening. We are listening to each other.

I keep track of prayer requests from the online meetings.

Why am I so tired? I'm doing my work as usual. Ah, but I'm also carrying a mental "vocal whiteboard" on which W is writing and erasing his voice, writing and erasing, as he masters pronunciation. I sometimes guess at what he's "writing" before he's ready, which can be frustrating. We're used to quick back-and-forth conversations so I'm learning patience while I work to understand. His words are clearer every single day.

W has speech therapy during my calls. By 10AM, we're on the way to the picture framer (our anniversary gift.) We pull in at the supermarket for eggs and vegetables. Look at this massive pomelo (For comparison, normal oranges are underneath.)

Before we leave the framer, I snap photos of the art. I've always thought the mat I want matched was blue. Apparently it's black. "Please choose a similar blue-black, not a green-black," I ask the framers.

We leave the resprayed mirror there, too. I request a simple black frame that covers the four chipped corners. "We can do that if we paint this profile and adhere it backwards, with the large edge on the front rather than the back." Sounds good. The sum total is $60.

Puti's birthday party is at Noah's Barn, hosted by the book group. W and PakG drop me off and go home. My smoked chicken gnocchi is delicious. It's so fatty that I feel stuffed halfway through. I box it and the leftover appetizers for W.

Beautiful birthday girl Puti gets a custom carrot cake made by Ilsa, an adventurous baker. Yum! It's one of the best carrot cakes I've tasted, full of pecans, raisins, and almonds.

Martin is our liaison for the group of 15? who are confirmed to stay over later this week. He brings the room assignments, which we fasten on each door. The helper has arrived, baking banana breads, doing laundry, and checking that the bedrooms are ready for guests.

Tuesday
We skip the morning walk while I talk to the in-house helpers. We'll need another part-time staff as Christmas approaches. Can they look for someone in their village who is a hard worker, willing to learn, and reliable? Once that is settled to everyone's satisfaction, the workday begins.

Solid weeks of baking lie ahead, plus guests are staying overnight for retreats and conferences. The oldest helper is the main cook and baker but has been cleaning most of the time. The Project is too big for one person to clean alone. Dust is everywhere from the volcanic eruption, which means double the dusting than usual. Thankfully, the air is getting cleaner as the ash falls.

We update the movie night list, make arrangements for incoming guests, and set things in motion for the next months. There's a women's study group a half-hour's drive away, so I hop in the car and off we go. Again.

Read more:
* This is what the Lord says: “Let not the wise boast of their wisdom or the strong boast of their strength or the rich boast of their riches, but let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,” declares the Lord. Jeremiah 9:23-24

* Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15:55-57

Moravian Prayer: Mighty Savior, who triumphs over death, you are our retreat and our stability. Through Christ, you have conquered darkness and given us eternal victory. Help our hearts to remain steadfast in faith, trusting in your unfailing love. We praise you forever. Amen.