Castles, late books, and expats galore

Sunday, October 20, 2024

We get no sabbath, which we miss. Today continues yesterday's discussions about potential security issues for those who live abroad.

I pluck some greens off a tree and put them on the table to unknot my mind as we review potential dangers.

We enjoy lunches with other expats and make new connections. People who live globally have interesting stories.

One day we eat wonderful Chinese food. Another day we try a Peruvian restaurant housed in a classic Springfield building. We eat leftovers from each place for at least one or two more meals. The bill is normally $30-40 for the two of us. We keenly feel the sticker shock; we'd feed a small group for that back home.

Look at this tin ceiling and the old chandelier.

The wood carvings on the old bar are intact.

We walk back to training and spot a wasp nest forming in a painted doorway. Most Midwest construction is brick, unlike the wood used on the West Coast. Despite attempts at revitalization, few shops and restaurants are open Sunday or Monday.

For another lunch, we eat Dutch crepes served with smoked sausage, potatoes, raisins, and bananas. I take a picture so I can replicate the unusual mix when we get home.

The rose bushes along the parking lot are fragrant in the hot afternoon sunshine.

By the time we're headed back to the hotel, it's often dark.

W is curious about Bucky's, a midwest "thing." So we go in one day after work.

Its shelves carry high-calorie snacks and ranch-style souvenirs. In the center, some guys are barbecuing beef and chopping it for sandwiches. They make a noisy production of yelling at each other and slamming down the knife. Must be a boy thing.

Want the Western look? You may find it here. We leave empty-handed.

Tuesday

We fly to Seattle late Monday night after a final day about practical risk management. We unlock the door to our flat and haul in our luggage after 1:30 a.m., toss in a load of laundry, and fall asleep after 2:00.

We wake up this morning in our own beds, eat breakfast, and open the mail. My book series arrived while we were gone, too late to take along for those who asked for a copy. (We forgot to order them before we came - too much to do back then?) I'll stash them until our next visit.

It's a chore and pre-packing day. I start to refill a bottle from the tap in the laundry room and forget about it, flooding the floor. Mopping up the dust accumulating in the corners over time is an unexpected win! hehe We toss wet carpets and towels into the washing machine.

W has caught a cold as usual after travel. I avoid close proximity for a day or two. I don't want it! We prepare for Sunday's talk and sort through books.

The guys brought a bookshelf from upstairs into my basement office. The grandkids carry down loads as I take them off the upper shelves.  I'm deciding what to keep, rehome, or toss. The books make me smile: they contain memories of what I've learned, seen, and absorbed on their pages. I make a few giveaway piles and shelve the rest.

Kirsten is sorting her photos and finds a pic my Dad sent to our kids years ago. He included this tagline: Wow! Too bad you didn't know her sooner (= me as a little girl.) Lucky for them: I was a tomboyish whirlwind in pretty dresses, thanks to Mom. Looks like that day, Dad was preparing for summer by putting away the storm windows.

The younger grandkids sleep over tonight. They fall asleep quickly and without fuss. Good kiddos! (or Good Parents!) Their older sister is at orchestra practice and their older brother is browsing a book we bought at Windsor Castle (think: real knight armor, castle photos, and turrets.)

Wednesday

Sleepover is a success. The kids and W are sick so I sleep on my office sofa. I hear the hacking and coughing a few times in the night. (I'm trying to prevent getting ill as I have one more chance to see my mom who is very frail. That's this weekend.)

We empty two bookshelves from upstairs. The kids run down our books as I pull them off the shelves. What a boost! If I had to run them down, it would take a lot longer. I shelve mine of put them in giveaway bags.

The kids pile W's books and magazines in heaps before I get downstairs. Unfortunately, his office is completely full; when I come down, they've stacked his books in my office until he gets to them.

The kids head up to lunch, which their mom made before heading out to work. (She's amazing.) I tidy up, remake the sofa bed, and cook lunch for us: an omelet and a chopped salad. W is "under the weather" so he takes a shower and preps the PPT for Sunday's talk before resting.

I clear my books and W gets to his after a few days. The library card catalog is still going strong; art and office supplies are easy to find.

Read more:

*You are my witnesses, says the Lord. Isaiah 43:10

*Jesus said [to his followers], “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  Acts 1:8

Moravian Prayer: Lord, you said you are the vine, and we are the branches. You ask us to carry your message and share it with those we encounter. At times, the mission is arduous, but your grace and our faith in you is constant. Be with us. Amen.

Hard marriage advice, a day short of 47 years together

Saturday, August 31, 2024

After tea with friends, dishes are washed and put away. Somehow, teacups from around the world have migrated in. We have English bone china with a Canadian maple leaf pattern.

There are glass teacups brought from Turkey a year ago. In the kitchen cabinet are a dozen old cups and saucers that I collected decades ago. I haul them out in rotation and enjoy them all.

My usual choice is a 16 oz mug, refilled 4-5X a day with whatever seems appetizing.

The sun bursts over the solar fountains, creating a pleasant backdrop to work and meetings.

In the afternoon, a group gathers to choose worship music for the next month (one pair, deciding on their choice, below). How we appreciate these hardworking musicians with a heart for God.

We're almost done with the dry season's leaf drop.

New leaves appear as soon as the old ones are gone, without giving the tree an autumn and winter hibernation.

Sunday

I run through the music on our keyboard before we leave for the hall, where there's a rehearsal and the Gathering. It's strange to sit on the "piano" bench again, with fingers moving automatically. I love handing off things to the next generations but when we're short-staffed, it's all available hands on deck.

There are 2 meetings afterward, one of them with our teammates. How thankful we are for each one. At noon, W and I head for the soft launch of a new restaurant group on the hill. They invite us to their full launch next weekend. The hummus isn't just flavorful - it's visually appealing.

There are saffron strands on the ramen curry. Yum.

The manager offers us a treat from the bakery. "What would you prefer?"

"You choose," we tell him. He surprises us with a multi-layered, cream-filled pastry from their dessert case. Oh wow. Delicious.

As I look around, it's hard to believe that the nook has gone from this a few years ago

to this. Drifts of decor, paint, and furniture arrive in bundles. What comes in is enjoyed for a season and often flows back out to others. I like to work at these long tables, looking out to the garden.

Monday - the advice, a day before 47 years

A friend from book group sends a photo of a cat stalking a snake that is slithering across the road. It was taken a few hours before sunrise on her hill (the next one over). Cats are the best hunters.

Yesterday, Titik outdid herself with a stunning mix of snapdragons, roses, and a sunflower.

I zoom in for some morning cheer.

In an old neighborhood, whether it's Winnipeg, Vancouver, or Bandung, trees overhang the streets. Long vines hang from the branches of the old trees near us. A few times a year, they burst into flower. These blooms sway 10-20' (3-7m) above our heads.

At our feet, W notes a pod that looks like a snake. No, it's just a seed pod. We step around it.

Beside the curb, a clutter of "weeds" has sprouted and is crawling up the tree trunk. I recognize some of them; we grew them as houseplants in Seattle ... and sometimes were lucky enough to keep them alive.

The garden is colored with dozens of false-bird-of-paradise stems.

The fridge upstairs turns itself off. No need to empty it, W says as it pops on again.  He will call a service person so it doesn't quit when we are traveling.

The dead mouse in the kitchen ceiling still stinks. (It's not completely dried out nor yet consumed by ant predators.) I write and make calls, squishing teeny ants on the table-top to keep them off my papers and keyboard. Not all is perfect in paradise. But it's almost ... (well, it's good!)

Tomorrow W and I will celebrate our 47th anniversary. Has it been that long? We go out for an early lunch to Chanaya, a 20-minute drive into the mountains.

We decide to do a "tasting" lunch: for $30 we order 5 dishes, dessert, and drinks. First, a cheese fondue appetizer. It's good cheese.

Next is pasta. We were told the Australian chef would be in - and he makes a fine dough. I like this spinach ravioli.

W prefers the creamy carbonara fettuccini. Very good!

The gnocchi is a hit for us both. 

We order a mango smoothie. And a mango sunrise, which turns out to be a coconut milk "dessert" drink. Delicious.

Without reading glasses as I order on the app, we get a sourdough bread with coffee. We'd take a miss on this one next time. Chocolate or coffee breads aren't my favorites.

It's interesting though. It comes with an ampule of espresso.

We put at least half of the food in takeaway bags.

Our gift from Danny the pasta chef is a fluffy tiramisu. We thought we were done ... even speculated that we probably won't have to eat tomorrow after the cream and olive oil-based sauces.

Whew, after the gifted dessert, we joke that maybe we'll have to hold off eating until Wednesday. Then the chocolatier asks us to taste her chocolate truffle. Now that's the bomb! I share a little square with Waldemar. 

The funicular (gear-driven rail car) is offline for maintenance. Though we walked down the hill, we take a golf buggy ride back up.

As we wait for our transportation, beautiful purple flowers nod behind our seat.

Back in the lobby, we admire a long shelf of bonsai.

It's an artistically designed resort. These wood rounds hang overhead where you buy funicular tickets.

We pose for a quick anniversary picture in a curved bench inside a hillside pool.

Going back, it's plain to see that deliveries are in full swing. GoJeks and other taxi motorcycles bring food from restaurants and good from shops to homes and hotels. It costs between 50c and $1.50 for delivery.

When we drive in, the sun is striking this plant beside the Porch. It glows.

********

OK -- FAIR WARNING. HERE'S MARRIAGE ADVICE FROM A WOMAN SO OLD SHE BARELY REMEMBERS HER WEDDING (... EXCEPT FOR THE WEIRD PARTS. But that's a story for another blog.)

We're at a good place in marriage and feel fulfilled at work. We have personal hobbies and shared interests. We wonder, "How did the years fly by?"

I remember the anticipation of getting married, 47 years ago. We had a sit-down dinner for both families and our bridal party. The attendants, dresses, food, hall, and reception were ready. There was one night to go; then no more dating for me. I was relieved. It was a lifetime commitment for the two of us.

I had high hopes for a marriage like Mom and Dad had; during the 24 years to date, they had blended their unique selves into a partnership and were more in love than ever. I expected the same.

I was a pragmatic bride-to-be. W was the starry-eyed romantic.  W had proposed to me with an invitation to serve together around the world, and I'd accepted. (That took 37 years to come true.)

I went to sleep that Friday night, looking forward to the end of the weekend when we'd be married, with our wedding day over and done - and a lifetime of friendship and growing together.

On our 21st anniversary, I remember thinking, "This year, I've been married as long as I lived with my family." 

Let me be honest with you. At that time, we were in a rocky season of marriage, with 4 teens and a child in constant pain despite repeated surgeries. I was exhausted and felt resentful that our shared goals had been set aside for W's career. I raised the kids and taught music from home to make ends meet, while my husband thrived at his dream job.

I barely tolerated years when leaving and "finally doing my own thing" sounded more fulfilling than the crush of home chores, making meals, and loneliness. (I admit it.) W endured long seasons when I wasn't the happy, hopeful bride he'd married, but he mostly thought we were doing fine.

Our advice now, when asked about what makes a long marriage work? What will build a family that loves and respects each other?

"Stay."

No one else in the world knows your family's quirks. No one else remembers friends from long ago. No one else knows the things that you went through together. No one else shares the context for your insider looks, laughter, and lessons.

"Love" - at least romantic love - comes and goes. But your kids and grandkids are depending on you and your partner to try your best, provide a stable and loving place as they grow up, and create a home base they can come back to, decade after decade. (My grandparents, married over 60 years.)

That said, your relationship may be at a rough spot now. Maybe you feel disconnected from your wife or husband. Maybe you're "growing at different rates." Maybe it feels like you're the one keeping your family together while your spouse gets to build a career or travel. Those feelings are common. And they typically come around every 5-7 years, sorry to say.

Not having all your needs fulfilled in marriage isn't a reason to flirt with others, leave, or quit, whether that's at 3 or 7 or 20 or 40 years. Instead of giving up, find healthy advisors. Check in with a counselor when you need it, even if you're the only one going to the sessions.

You can't change your spouse. You can only work on becoming a better and more mature YOU. Recognize that if you run, you're bringing your broken self into every future relationship. So why not work your hardest at this one? (My parents, who were married 67 years.)

Let me warn you, building a strong marriage means you'll have to work through chasms of socialization and assumptions. 

My mom and dad taught me that my first priority when I married would be my relationship with W. "Your husband/wife comes before the kids. Before anyone else." That had made their marriage strong and healthy beyond thin veneer sof friendship and tolerance in some of their peers' marriages.

We wrestled with this because W learned another way from his parents: "Don't be self-centered. Serve others first. God's work matters more than you and your family." Blending our expectations led to arguments and tears. He had no context for what I assumed was normal.

You'll find your own wrestling matches. I guarantee it.

I advise you to build a social network with your own circle of trusted friends, people who encourage you and pray with you. They'll give you perspective for what's driving you crazy, making you mad, or frustrating you. Cut toxic people - those who isolate you or undermine your marriage - out of your life.

W's Saturday-morning coffee guys formed his weekly rhythm of long-term friends. In my WPPR group, we boosted each over for 25 years. We met every few weeks and went away for 2 girls-only weekends annually.

"Old couples" learn that marriage is a series of waves: waves of romance and loneliness, adjustments to changing seasons, and constant adjustments to each other. We've faced challenges. Every twosome who is committed to a life-long marriage can remember the hard work, over a long haul. (Uncle Albert and Aunt Edith, still going at 62 years; I'm the flower girl on the right.)

Yet the efforts and struggles are worthwhile - unless there's abuse or severe neglect. If you or your children are being harmed, get help and be safe.

I'm praying for you today: peace and safety, stamina and TRUE LOVE ...

 - whether you're single and want to be married

- whether your marriage is at a sweet or stuck season

- if you've lost a spouse to death or divorce

Jesus said a healthy marriage was God's truest picture of the love and intimacy he offers his children. (Read the scripture below.) Keep working on that, would you? Just ... stay, and do your best.

Read more:

*They shall be mine, says the Lord of hosts, my special possession on the day when I act, and I will spare them as parents spare their children who serve them. Malachi 3:17

*The counsel of the Lord stands forever. Psalm 33:11

*Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Matthew 5:9

*Husbands, love your wives. Love them just as Christ loved the church. He gave himself up for her. He did it to make her holy. He made her clean by washing her with water and the word. He did it to bring her to himself as a brightly shining church. He wants a church that has no stain or wrinkle or any other flaw. He wants a church that is holy and without blame. 

In the same way, husbands should love their wives. They should love them as they love their own bodies. Any man who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body. Instead, they feed and care for their body. And this is what Christ does for the church. We are parts of his body.

Scripture says, “That’s why a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife. The two will become one.” That is a deep mystery. But I’m talking about Christ and the church. A husband also must love his wife. He must love her just as he loves himself. And a wife must respect her husband. Ephesians 5:25-33 NIRV

Moravian Prayer: We begin this month, loving God, with the reminder that we are your children, children of the one and only God! You bless us, bringing us into this world at this time to be peacemakers, to create shalom. With your nurture and guidance, may it be so! May we be your instruments of peace on the planet.

Sometimes, Counselor of wisdom and grace, we sing or speak words as if they are truth, as if they are already the reality of our lives. In fact, they are often more truly our hopes, our desires. We repeat these words as our prayer: “Be the treasure of great worth in our lives, first in our hearts.” This is our deepest longing. So we open our hearts to you and pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.