Preparing transplants, tramping the forest, and touching base

 Wednesday, August 6, 2025

The yardman continues to dig up bushes in the yard. He wraps their root balls and puts them back into the ground. "They must stay put for a month or so, or they will die when transplanted." I guess a move hurts as we pare back before we can thrive in our new place, whether it's a person or plant.

When we moved in, our first yardman cut flowerbeds into the boring lawn and planted the +50 plastic pots cluttering the Porch. The ailing avocado-pit plant in its little pot that went into the ground has soared into a big tree, obscuring our view of the neighbor's house. Other trees include papaya, mango, melinjo, cloves, lemons, and mangosteen.

The previous owner took with her everything she wanted to keep when she moved out. There wasn't much left in the garden beyond amaryllis bulbs. After 11 years, we've put many trees and flowers into the new flower beds. Much of what we put in will come with us. The rest will stay for the next person to enjoy. Two flowerbeds along the driveway will be filled with what isn't placed elsewhere.

I write Sunday's talk, toss a ball for Anton to fetch, and eat a TJ Toffee Bar (cookie) with my cup of tea. It's calm in early afternoon beyond birds chirping and the chop-chop of the machete. Then the wind picks up and the chimes begin to ring. Must be more rain coming.

W takes Anton to the vet for a blood test. If he's back to health, he can come on our hike tomorrow! He's so restless and full of energy that we hope for the best.

Thursday

Hiking day. We start at Lorong Lumut, a tunnel of rock with a bamboo base. The dogs prance through it, making sure not to catch their feet between the stalks.

We have all 4 dogs along. Little poodle Bailey stays close to my heels. Anton the Standard poodle is in fine fettle, bouncing along the trail, exploring the smells, and bonding with labradoodle Juno. Gypsy the beloved mutt is getting old; he'll be 12 in October. He tires after a few miles and stays close to us while the younger 2 run ahead. We pull the dogs off the path to let grass-cutters by. Today they've chopped ferns to feed cattle.

The hike takes longer than usual, though it's only 4.5 miles/6.8 km. The paths are sandy, rocky, or mud-slicked. Most of the time, we're in the forest, cool breezes keeping us comfortable with the tree canopy between us and the blue sky.

We lose the track a few times with a plethora of trail options but W's mapping skills keep us going in the correct general direction. The banana bread baked by helpers on Tuesday is an energy booster. We stop twice to enjoy slices.

There's a suspension bridge between us and the pickup point, with the warning: "Only 5 people at a time." Well, there's me and 3 dogs, rocking the bridge with our differing treads. The bridge is covered with rusting metal sheets, so who knows what's underneath. Juno gets spooked and freezes halfway across as the bridge starts to sway. The others bring him along when they cross.

We come out of the forest by the old climbing walls and pause while W takes a photo.

Lunch is at Sindang Reret, a Sundanese boat-themed restaurant. The server takes a liking to us and gives us great service and a discount. As usual, W leaves the amount as a tip for him.

I think the server is taken aback because we speak (limited) Indonesian and are polite. Not all foreigners understand how rude they can seem when demanding changes from the menu or expecting quick responses from the servers. Here, even when food takes time to reach the table, you must wait patiently until the meal comes.

The food is very tasty. The restaurant is surprisingly full for a Thursday afternoon. 

We drop Veronica at home before heading to our place. After a shower, it's time to check student papers. I'm hoping to wrap up the Bhutan class this week. One student still has to send in a reading list. I prefer to grade all submissions of an assignment at the same time. That way class marks are similar and not as dependent on my energy level while grading.

W misses the men's afternoon meeting since we get back later than usual. We have just enough time to thank the helpers before they go home. They've been cleaning outdoor furniture today. Everything is dusty with the insects, rodents, and pollution, not to mention dirty from lots of use!

Friday

How can the weekend be around the corner? Today would have been my parents' 72nd anniversary. They had 67 years together and this was taken on their last anniversary. Dad died that December.

I've never met a couple more in love than my folks. They put each other first, before kids, before work, before their own interests. What role models!

We walk past a frog that is usually camouflaged in lichens and leaves. On the road, he's more visible.

They've hired a security guard and taken other precautions at the project site. Area by area, the decaying walls, stolen plumbing, and sagging ceilings are being replaced.

A rectangle of wallpaper is missing where there used to be a box on a ceiling. I'll use markers and paint to filll it in later.

I take a few calls between grading and working on my book. We're wrapping up class and making decisions on papers; the students confirm their topics.

We have lunch at RoadRunner's kitchen with Alan and Jani before returning to work at home.

Their food is excellent.

When we pick up some books, we learn that the proprietor used to be the driver of expats now living in Paris. We show Pak Pamin a recent video from our Paris friends and send them a video of him saying hi. He's delighted to see their faces and hear their voices.

I miss the monthly book group, working away at home when gusts of rain blow in. No wonder everything is verdant in the tropics. We get frequent afternoon or night rain while most mornings are warm and sunny. We love the weather in northern Bandung: 68 (20C) nights and 80 (27C) days with mountain breezes (or wind!) cooling the skin.

Sadly, southern Bandung lies is in a basin that gets the runoff from multiple mountains in addition to its own downpour. Houses and streets often flood. Besides water, garbage - plastic cups, bags, and other refuse that is tossed everywhere - washes down the streets and gutters to plug drains and fill the creeks. Before we moved to the city, friends to warned us against living in that sector.

Saturday 

The dogs are happy to dig into their breakfast before our walk.

a garden at the project is waiting for flowers.

Makeshift scaffolding above the stairs doesn't look sturdy. Luckily the painters are light and light-footed.

The trees on the loop are bright in the sunshine.

When one of us walks behind the other, the dogs want to know where we are. They're pack animals, for sure.

There's a sign of someone's wedding hanging over the entry to Maxi's Resto, someone's handwork.

The details are beautiful.

If I were a screamer, I'd probably be shouting "Owie!" and "Ease up!" this morning. IbuSiti is my wellness secret, a skilled and safe masseuse who comes to the house. When travelers stay with us, they often hire her to unknot their travel aches after long plane or train journeys.

Instead of splurging on vitamins or meds, I happily give her $20 twice a month. While she works, I get 2 hours to listen to textbooks or non-fiction that I can't otherwise focus on. The focus takes my mind off the pain, too. Today I'm listening to Brene Brown's Atlas of the Heart (a scientific look at emotions). I've just finished a pre-publication book on female ADHD in Nowhere Girl by Carla Ciccone. Both are exceptional.

We go to IKEA for baskets and light sockets. We eat there - the same familiar food served around the world - and are home by late afternoon. Not hungry, the evening meal is snacks: pineapple, watermelon, and a TJ peanut butter chocolate. We make sure we're ready for tomorrow.

Read more:

*You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal. Isaiah 26:3-4

*You have looked for much, but it came to little, and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why? Says the Lord of hosts. Because my house lies in ruins, while all of you hurry off to your own houses. Haggai 1:9

Jesus said, “But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and herbs of all kinds and neglect justice and the love of God; it is these you ought to have practiced, without neglecting the others.” Luke 11:42

Moravian Prayer: Forgiving Lord, as we repent of our sins, grant us the strength to amend our ways. Help us turn back to you with sincere hearts, seeking your mercy and guidance. Amen.

Your money or your life #1: Whose money is it, anyway?

"What is money? And whose is it?" I've been mulling the philosophy of money for years.

The courtyard in summer

W and I grew up in a little ethic church. One strange tradition was that our church treasurer printed and distributed an annual giving report, listing every member and their donations toward tithes, missions, and other gifts. The list was handed out each December 31when the congregation assembled. We'd spend the final hours of the current year and the first hour of the New Year sharing scripture, prayer, and personal testimonies. We also eagerly looked forward to the report to see how much we'd given - and how much others had put into God's work.

Can you imagine that? In the US, people shudder when we mention that financial list. "What? Give others access to what I give to my church? NEVER! That's between me and God." (I haven't heard anyone say, "between God and me." Interesting.) In this culture, many church boards refuse permission for their pastor to see who is tithing or giving. Never mind everyone sitting in the pews!

Why? What's the big secret, I wonder. Why are we afraid to let others know what we earn and how we spend our money? Are we over-giving and humble? Or would we feel shamed that we do so little?

One of the biggest cultural differences between our upbringing and where we live now is this idea of ownership of money and resources. So I've been asking myself,

• Whose money is it, anyway? If God owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10), what do we own? Isn't the money we earn or inherit ours, to do with as we please? (Cattle represented the wealth of biblical people.)

But IS ANY OF THIS really ours?

"I work hard for my money," we may say. "I can do with it as I please." Is that true or an illusion? By Whose hand do we have health and strength to work, think, and earn the exchange of goods and services? 

If God gives us life and breath, isn't our income all His? He can give in abundance or take everything away in a heartbeat. It's all His. So why do we wrap ourselves around secret greed, possessions, and acquisition?

The courtyard, from the front steps

One of our neighbors is a landscaper. On my walks, we'd chatted briefly about God and church: he mentioned he was a member of a good church just down the road. Eventually, I hired him to work on our yard and he did a good job. When I paid him, I asked if he'd keep the yard and driveway weeded that summer.

"Sure, that would be appreciated. I need the work," he said.

I gave him a check for another $400 in advance. "I'm in a doctoral program. I don't have time to prune or weed. So please keep track of your hours. Let me know when you run out and I'll give you the next installment." We shook hands and he took the money.

He never came again. After a few months, I went to ask about our untended yard. (Thank God we live away from the street!) "Are you planning to do the work? I understand if you've been busy. But if you don't want to do it, may we have our money back to hire someone else, please?"

He looked at me angrily and stalked into the house. I waited a few weeks and came back with a photocopy of the check I'd give him. "Here's the money we paid you. We'd love for you to do the work - which is what we really need. Or please return the money."

Instead, he sent me a check in the mail a few weeks later. $99. What?

I could never find him to ask about it. I'd see him disappear into the house when I'd walk. I didn't want to stalk him. Finally I ran into him when he couldn't flee. "Hey, we gave you $400 and you gave us $99 back. Are you intending to work off the other $301 or ...?" He just glared at me and left me standing.

I was livid. This man had stolen "my hard-earned money." Should I sue him for it? Nah, I came to my senses. We're Canadian. Not big on lawsuits. I'd spend life and energy stirring strife and trouble and never get the piddly amount if he lied about his services. However, just in case, I took pictures of the yard. And discarded them. I weeded my own yard, mumbling hardships and deprivation down on him.

I'll miss our little hideaway ... 

The guy advertised his services on a sign in his yard: "Years of Experience in the Northwest." I wanted to write, "But don't pay me in advance" under his phone number, with my number as a reference. (Yup, I was bugged about it.)

Then I heard the Voice I love: "Is this your money? Isn't everything you have Mine? If so, he's stolen from Me. I know how to get back what belongs to Me." Because the landscaper claimed to be a believer, it felt easier to release him to God's accounting. That doesn't mean I didn't feel upset for the first month when he or his truck went by.

I never got the money. But here's God's grace to me - a favor unasked for @ a mere $300. I am reminded each time I pass the neighbor's yard that everything is God's. And justice and mercy (which I need every day) are His. That lesson is worth much more than my investment, don't you think?

More money perspective from my POV next time!

Your thoughts?

Read more:

The mighty God, the Lord, has summoned all mankind from east to west!

God’s glory-light shines from the beautiful Temple on Mount Zion. He comes with the noise of thunder, surrounded by devastating fire; a great storm rages round about him. He has come to judge his people. To heaven and earth he shouts, “Gather together my own people who by their sacrifice upon my altar have promised to obey me.” God will judge them with complete fairness, for all heaven declares that he is just.

O my people, listen! For I am your God. Listen! Here are my charges against you: I have no complaint about the sacrifices you bring to my altar, for you bring them regularly. But it isn’t sacrificial bullocks and goats that I really want from you. For all the animals of field and forest are mine! The cattle on a thousand hills! And all the birds upon the mountains! If I were hungry, I would not mention it to you—for all the world is mine and everything in it. No, I don’t need your sacrifices of flesh and blood. What I want from you is your true thanks; I want your promises fulfilled. I want you to trust me in your times of trouble, so I can rescue you and you can give me glory.

But God says to evil men: Recite my laws no longer and stop claiming my promises, for you have refused my discipline, disregarding my laws. You see a thief and help him, and spend your time with evil and immoral men. You curse and lie, and vile language streams from your mouths. You slander your own brother. I remained silent—you thought I didn’t care—but now your time of punishment has come, and I list all the above charges against you. This is the last chance for all of you who have forgotten God, before I tear you apart—and no one can help you then.

But true praise is a worthy sacrifice; this really honors me. Those who walk my paths will receive salvation from the Lord. Psalm 50 LB