Perfection is overrated

Monday, March 17, 2025

We walk, then have 2 online meetings after breakfast.

Many of our friends do puzzles but that's never captured my attention. W and I spotted a 3D puzzle of a bookshelf "room" on one of our trips last year. It's been sitting on the shelf for months.

Today I pull it out, punch out a few wooden pieces. At Step 4 (on page 3 of 25) I have no clue what they're talking about. W can help me figure it out, or not. Who cares if it's perfect?

I'm working on three red abstract canvases to hang in red frames. I made this a few weeks ago and think I'll leave the imperfect circles as they are.

This second one got white dots over the base.

I look at the messy background of the final canvas. Oh, oh, in the art box, I spot half-used jars of craft paints in red, yellow, blue, and white. There's also a 1" (2.5cm) hardware brush on the shelf behind me ... so why not? I haul out the last canvas. I tip globs of color and a bigger pool of white onto the plastic wrap that housed puzzle pieces.

After 10 minutes of play, maybe it's done, maybe not. I pack away the paints. The nice thing about abstract acrylics is that you can splash around a canvas as many times as you want to, layering on what you've done. It doesn't have to be perfect or "finished" when you set out with no aim beyond having fun. I let things sit for a few weeks before I decide.

I wash paint off my hands and toss out the leftover paint in its plastic skin. Kiddie craft paint is good for fooling around because it's non-toxic. (Classroom paint is usually safer than artist quality.) I can't resist touching and moving paint around with my fingers. I rarely remember to put on the finger "socks" that are made to protect kids or grownups like messy me.

After lunch, we visit a neighbor's house. One of my favorite things is the life-sized model of a zebra in the backyard.

Tuesday

Our walk is shorter than usual: I didn't sleep very long and have no energy.  A little plant sprouting at the mossy base of an enormous tree trunk inspires me. It reminds me that it doesn't matter how small you are now; grow where you're planted.

I bake a carrot cake and forget to add sugar. Tastes amazing with raw honey smeared on it ... but still.

The helpers transition the dining table from a pink-ish tablecloth 

to a green one that matches the rest of the room.

As I get down to work, I "shut the door" to my office, at least figuratively. Those who have been here a while know that when the curtain is drawn, my door is "closed" and I'm working. (Crude but usually effective.)

The side entry door and the passage to upstairs are at one side of my office. I'm constantly moving others' stuff out of my sightline, much to their irritation. (Why not stash their stuff in their own spaces?) A pretty sight today: the pot outside my window has erupted in magenta blossoms.

Judy and I chat over morning coffee at HomeGround. I walk her home before returning to the restaurant with W for a very spicy lunch. Yum. My lips may be burning but my stomach is happy.

Wednesday

The sun's coming up as we walk. We take this beautiful city for granted sometimes. "Aren't we lucky to live in a city with palm trees?" I ask W, pointing to the towering trees in front of the sunrise.

A grandpa is taking his 2 grandkids to school on his motorbike. Kids - babies included - quickly learn to balance in front of, behind, or atop the driver. Most youngsters drive motorcycles by their mid-teens. Many start even sooner, racing around the streets near their homes,, ferrying their friends, or just zooming by on a lark.

After meetings and wading through emails, I hop onto a company seminar about the value of AI. They do an interesting review of how AI develops with all available data and how to profit from the automation. A friend drops by to enjoy tea and carrot cake on the Porch.

A wild lovebird swoops under the cages to eat what our birds have scattered. I can't catch it - but what a beauty. It's a recent escapee from someone's cage, still in good condition.

I make a Western lunch for W and me. Oh look, there's color on the plate. Most local food is brown, tan, or beige. (That doesn't mean it's not delicious!)

We sort out appointments for this week and next, do some counseling, and swap out the grey living room rug for one with colors. As long as there's something creative in the day, it's a good one, no matter how heavy the workload.

Between it all, the groomers arrive to tidy up our 3 pooches. With a Ramadan bonus, their total bill is $22. (Cheaper than hiring security guards, that's for sure.)

The 2 poodles get washed, cut, and blown dry, while Gypsy has the knots in his fur clipped and combed out. Looking good! The dogs get some sausage and another walk with PakG as their reward for standing still. Tomorrow is a hike, which will take care of any show dog illusions they have.

Perfect for a day. But perfection is overrated.

They're always "Good Doggies!"

Read more:

*You shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give. Isaiah 62:2

* By his wounds you have been healed. 1 Peter 2:24

* So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being! 2 Corinthians 5:17

Moravian Prayer: Gracious God, awaken our hearts to see the glorious beauty in this new day. Refresh our minds and renew our spirits, as we accept the gift of new beginnings. Give us courage to start over as we trust in your goodness and love. Thank you for the hope and promise of new life in Jesus Christ, our redeemer. Amen.

Happy 89th birthday, Mom, and a speedy recovery to the rest

Thursday, August 1, 2024

There's a sprinkle of rain in the afternoons, just enough to cool down the trees and gardens. Our houseguest leaves for a week or two in Ambon via Jakarta. Melvi, W, and I have a quiet house.

I'm scrambling to sort my calendar. Putting various appointments that have varied importance and urgency - while traveling in 5 zones last month, means the calendar is a mess. Back to a bullet journal, I think?

I hear a loud thump. Oh oh! the nangka (jackfruit) is ripe. The heavy 2'/75cm fruit can kill or injure you if you're under the tree when it falls. The yardman sets aside fruit for the house and helpers. He takes the leftover dozen or so outside the gate for neighbors to claim.

Friday - Happy 89th Birthday, Mom!

W and I walk after we call our moms. It's my mom's birthday on this side of the world, though she will celebrate "tomorrow," August 2 on her side of the planet. From my home office, I listen to the neighbor's three goats neighing as they chomp on their lawn. The kids have become full-grown lawnmowers.

A little girl is stoking the trash fire along the road with her dad. We wish adults would teach their kids to recycle plastic, food, and paper instead of throwing garbage along the road. (Then someone sweeps it together and builds a toxic fire.)

We have breakfast at #NaraParkBandung. It's like coming home to the spicy noodles I like. If we'd move, I would miss this taste and rendang (beef jerky in coconut cream and hot spices). There's a new platform - would you hang out on a terrace that's 2 stories above the ground? We'll let others try it first.

The neighbor's breadfruit is ripening. "The taste is more sour than sweet," explains the helper from the house next door. When fruit trees are potted along the street, the ripe fruit usually disappears into the village before the owner can pick it. These are still small and there are many.

W and I read Sunday's talk together and go to Rumah Mode (Fashion House) outlet to pick up batik fabric for a Seattle friend. I didn't have a chance to shop before the last trip and don't want to miss out again. She chooses two cottons - yay for online cameras and chats. The fabric goes into the travel cabinet.

Our dogs are being groomed today. They love hikes and a short clip is easier to clean after a mud bath.

Our black Gypsy acquired a mass of knots while we were away. W holds Gypsy's head while the groomers untangle and trim excess hair. Gypsy hates being groomed but is clean and soft when they finish.

Since he was a pup, Gypsy bites his skin when it thunders. There are gaps where he's torn his fur out. We've tried security jackets, calming pills, and other suggestions. He prefers my command: "Go to the back" which means he can slink through the house to the back bedroom. With drapes drawn and door locked, he lays down in the corner furthest from the windows.

He has fur while the 2 poodles have hair, which creates a different kind of tangle. Those two yip if their hair is pulled during their brush-out. Mostly grooming is like sending them to a doggie salon without leaving home. After, all three sprawl on the cool tiles of the Porch.

They enjoy the attention and getting petted afterward. PakG takes them on a walk to strut their stuff. Mr. Bailey is the smallest and oldest but the bossiest at 11 years of age. The other dogs don't argue, holding still or turning away when he licks their faces in dominance. They're a contented pack.

After lunch, I write 17 reviews of books in the pipeline. Seriously, if you're a reader, check the link for what's recently been published and what is coming soon. I've had my fill of reading and call time out on writing. I reward myself with a mini-Magnum ice cream bar. My eyes feel like they're bugging out after a week at the computer screen.

I call Mom but she doesn't answer. Norm (via Sandy's planning genius) throws Mom a backyard birthday party. She's surrounded by neighborhood girlfriends and Timo and Melissa's family. The great-grandkids play their instruments and sing for her, too - what a blessing. 

Of course, Mom's all dolled up. Sandy has pitched a shade canopy since Mom's not great with high temperatures. Norm calls as I'm about to go into a meeting so we have a minute or two to talk. She looks good. I'll catch her tomorrow!

Saturday

Boy, how medical care and wellness medicine has changed over the decades! I check in with our daughter. We're praying that here experimental surgery yesterday will relieve the auto-immune symptoms. She's been sent home within 24 hours with 10 punctures and an implant.

Meanwhile, W has either food poisoning or the stomach flu. No, he doesn't want German herb tea. Or oatmeal. Or care. I leave him alone most of the day so he can rest, with occasional check-ins.

By 10:00, Ibu Siti has pressed away the travel kinks with a thorough massage. I organize kitchen cupboards, satisfying because who ever has time for that?

And then? a bit of play with soft pastels. Three A4 acrylic-painted canvases will become a series. This face is barely emerging and tells me nothing. So I leave it alone.

This one is on her way, with hard work still ahead. The asymmetrical outline is there but I'm wondering how far to push it. Most faces are not "even." Shifting an eye, brightening a cheek, shaping the lips, and broadening a chin would square the painting but is that what it wants? What about hair?

When I start to question moving ahead, I quit. Most paintings will gradually sort themselves out. I'm a messy painter and head for the sink after smearing color around the canvas.

I rewrite W's talk as a solo "just in case," before enjoying tea with Daniel and Della on the Porch.

Read more (and make this your prayer for today?):

How can a young person stay on the path of purity?

    By living according to your word.

I seek you with all my heart;

    do not let me stray from your commands.

I have hidden your word in my heart

    that I might not sin against you.

Praise be to you, Lord;

    teach me your decrees.

With my lips I recount

    all the laws that come from your mouth.

I rejoice in following your statutes

    as one rejoices in great riches.

I meditate on your precepts

    and consider your ways.

I delight in your decrees;

    I will not neglect your word. Psalm 119:9-16

Behind the teacher desk

Monday, July 29, 2024

Ah Bandung, for a morning walk in fresh cold air. We figure it's about 67oF/18oC so I pull on a coat. Look at this double hibiscus.

Some of the trees peel their bark as they grow - and this 2.5' (85cm) chunk looks like a base for flower arranging to me. I tuck it under my arm.

The neighbor asks, "What's that, Ibu?" and I show her the marvelous find. Can't wait to use it.

On a corner, can you spot the "Chameleon" working on the ladder? Three guys are putting up a new sign. One supervises from the side. Two others adjust the vinyl banner to his satisfaction. Every few months, the banner tears in the wind and sun so there's a new offering hauled above the street.

I open the office curtains to the view across my desk. It's the final prep day, ensuring everything is ready for tomorrow's doctoral class online. My 16oz mug of Turkish tea is at hand, along with binders of notes.

At IES Bandung this year, we've been preaching through the book of Acts. This fun find is leaning against the wall in my office: a poster book of Bible summaries. Each book of the Bible has a designated page with highlights from that book.

Herbert is graduating this afternoon. PakDanny, W and I join other friends at his graduation ceremony, delighted that he's completed within the deadline. The ceremony, attended by the university rector and faculty, is for 2 graduates. They offer a warm welcome to the graduates, ask them to recruit for UNPAR, and give them their hard-earned diplomas.

Tomorrow, Herbert is off to Jakarta on his way home to Tanzania. Indonesian scholarships bring students from every corner of the globe to various Bandung universities. Surprising to us is that within a day or two of completing your studies, you are shipped back to your country.

We share lunch with Herbert and friends and hug him goodbye.

He promises to keep us updated - we will miss him on the team!

Tuesday

W and I walk as high schoolers on motorcycles buzz to the second week of classes after their month-long break.

I spot something on the road: is that a snake? It's worth a second look. Nope, it's a ripe bean pod that fell from the tree above. Whew.

I log onto the zoom class an hour early to get ready. Except ... oops - their time zone is an hour ahead and it's time for class NOW. We have all kinds of challenges this first day: our Indonesian internet quits, so I have to log in again. They reset the zoom permissions so I can see the class and share my screen at the same time. The cohort may be small but they are wonderful.

W takes a class hour to explain background theology and offers his contact email to students for further discussion. I mess up the lunch schedule so they eat a half hour later than promised. "Tell me when it's lunch-time, if I go over!" I say to them after realizing my mistake.

"Ah, when the information is so interesting, we just want you to keep going." Well, that's one thing, but I'm sure they are hungry. We have 5 hours of class each day, which is a lot of information!

After class, W helps me swap out the "easy-care" IKEA rug (set down during travels) for a multi-color one. The grey checks go back into our bedroom corner, softening the stone floors for morning exercises.

I like the colorful texture of the Pakistani rug. While we're away, I don't want to think about getting the expensive one wet if someone mops the floor.

A few hours of writing and prep, and it's late afternoon. Time to read and relax.

Wednesday

At least today I know what time my class is starting! I look forward to seeing the students and sharing the notes. We hit the last PPT slide as my final alarm sounds. They're off to lunch before the last hour of class, which is set aside for their presentations.

During the break, I consume my uneaten dinner from yesterday; I would only snack after lunch if it were only myself. However, W likes to eat supper so I usually make something. Yesterday, I had no appetite beyond fruit and snacks. I put my dinner back into the fridge. So today's lunch is dumplings, Malaysian curry chicken (with spices from Penang), and more tea. The rest of the household has a fresh lunch prepared by IbuS.

My nose start to plug up and my eyes start to water mid-morning. Hopefully this is temporary.

Thursday

I'm wakened by calls as the phone buzzes throughout the night. (Why? My ringer and notifications are off between 10 and 6!) By 4:00 I give up, turn on the light, reply, and catch up on messages. I stay behind when W and the dogs head north to the weekly mountain hike. This is the walk I miss.

Time to rest. Um, maybe not. I make some calls and write book reviews. Also on the to-do list is writing two monthly newsletters and reviewing the sermon for Sunday. It will be our first time speaking in 7 weeks. Oh my, we are glad to be home.

Read more:

*God will never forget the needy; the hope of the afflicted will never perish. Psalm 9:18

*Jesus said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Luke 6:20

Moravian Prayer: Merciful God, amidst all the clutter of our days, we need constant reminders that you do not forget us; our hope in you and your promises remains strong. Further remind us that we are never alone, as Jesus has promised us, “I will be with you always.” Amen.

Spilling my guts onto paper

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

We spend the breakfast hour with Seattle kids and grandkids and are treated to another performance. The grandchildren are preparing their acts for an upcoming family camp. We close up the suitcases, wrapping up another trip. This was mostly a working trip: we usually don't get to enjoy summer in the north.

Kim shows up before 10 to take us to the airport. We chat about current ideas, have no trouble checking in at the Japan Airline counter, and relax in the airport lounge before takeoff. It's our last "American" food for a while.

The flights and transfers are uneventful - that is to say, it's the best possible travel experience. After a 10-hr flight, we land in Tokyo for a few hours. It takes another 7-hour flight to reach Jakarta before midnight. It's before 1:30 when we get through customs, retrieve our luggage, and are picked up by the Bandung shuttle.

Thursday

We haven't taken this shuttle brand before and end up at a station closer to home after the driver forgets to drop us at the first stop. Middle of the night, there's no traffic. Middle of the day, it would have taken an extra 1/2 - 1 hour ... With relief, we unlock the house gate at 4:30, treated to a raucous welcome by our dogs. We shower off travel grime and unpack one suitcase (food needs to go into the freezer but why stop with that?) ... before falling into bed at 5:30.

I wake feeling rested until I look at the clock: 6:45am. HA that wasn't very long. I finish unpacking, tidy everything into its place, and go for a walk. The neighbor is building a second storey atop the first: look at that bamboo scaffolding.

The poinsettia plant along the road has grown to 4' tall (1.3 meters).

W joins me for a late breakfast at #NaraPark. His gout flares with travel and not drinking enough water. His feet are too sore to walk far. I leave the dogs behind for a loop-and-a-half.

Competition among eateries is fierce; there are always new attractions. Today, Nara has opened its state-of-the-art playground and built a new viewing platform over the property. They celebrated their 6th anniversary Monday. Sorry we missed it!

We are hungry for spicy foods. Before I can take a picture, we've emptied our plates of noodles and spicy sambal. Sigh, can we admit that we didn't enjoy the bland Japanese airline food inflight or at the airport lounge? It seemed to have no spices at all. Plus most of it had seaweed or fish in it, neither which are my favorites. But Indonesian ramen and rica (spicy chicken sauce) - oh yum! It hits the spot.

A flock of employees arrives for their meeting. It's a "thing" to wear company uniforms at team-building events.

One of the benefits of keeping a household going (besides providing a safe place for guests while we travel) is that we land in motion. Sure, we have disrupted sleep patterns, eat at weird times, and we need to unpack and unload. But we can jump into work without finding new helpers or scrambling for a house or resources. What a blessing.

The helper begins to transform my $8 thrift store find from black

to silver, with the help of really old (25- or 30-year-old?) Hagerty's Silver Polish. I popped the polish into a suitcase coming from Seattle ages ago. A few more sessions with a toothbrush and soft rag and it will gleam. What is it? Not sure - it's hollow. I'm guessing it had a glass insert for flowers. Why is it here? We'll find out.

 

I am not hungry at lunch and nap soundly from 1-6. W goes to town in late morning to replace a credit card number (his card # was stolen in Missouri) and runs errands. Then he crashes into a long nap as well.

I check on him twice but he's fast asleep in his office. I toast a slice of Levi's homemade bread for supper. I have no idea (what/if) W eats since he's sleeping when I eat, but we fall fast asleep together at 8pm.

Friday - Happy birthday, Doris!

Rested? Get up. It's 12:30am when I pick up the Morning Pages journal. I write pages and pages of ... What I do remember? What did I learn? How do I feel - then and now? What I do wish for or not care about? I write some prayers.

And my soul unclenches. Writers write, they say. Whoever "they" are, they're correct. I hurl my innards onto paper with a pen. It gives me the capacity to take a hard look at lessons learned and things brought or left behind. Then I can read the classroom books I could not read and start on work due this week.

I intentionally did not journal this trip. I brought a new journal and carried it with me. Yet every time I looked at it, my heart said no. Not yet. Don't write. I took fewer photos, too, leaving my phone behind at meals and meetings. I left the blank pages behind when we left Seattle.

The weeks slipped by. Normally, part of every day includes writing so I wondered if the days would expand. Would we do more significant things and build more memories? Nope. We had wonderful meetings and meals and did worthwhile things. All I remember is a rededication to God, warm feelings in connections, being proud of our adult kids and lovely grands ... and what little I recorded.

After a week or two, I blogged cause I must write something. (Perhaps subscribers read the posts but I didn't post the links.) I wrote down prayer requests during a meeting. And I wrote 3 phrases spoken over me, in the little Scout notebook in my purse.

I remember the first two items: 1. Don't fear. 2. Don't take responsibility for what belongs to God. (But #3? I can't remember it. I have to look it up - again.) 3. Let God serve you as Jesus did for his disciples when he washed their feet. (Explained to me as: "Don't always think you have to act for the benefit of others or do things for God. Perhaps ask 'what does God want to do for me?'")

What we don't remember is often one of our blind spots. I've had to look up the last point several times. I sit with #3, asking: why does it disappear? Don't I like being served by God? Am I resisting what he offers me? Am I letting him work out maturity and changes in me? Or do I only want to accept things I understand? Do I accept the kindness and love he offers? Or do I limit his access?

Hmmm. After a brutal look inside, I sum up my meditation with prayer for more capacity to live with ease, acceptance, and gratitude for every moment. 

About 7:00, we walk 1.5 loops before settling down to work. We're shaded by the tall trees that line the streets.

I take a second look at the neighbor's house. It is getting a metal roof, the walls are brick, and the building supplies are heaped inside and outside: sand, gravel, and mud. All is hand-mixed in place.

Mom calls with her updates before W and I get basic supplies at the Borma grocer. Oh look, they've restocked my favorite Indonesian cheese snacks. I buy a few extras to give away to friends on our next trip.

I make eggs and sausage for breakfast but have no appetite at lunch: I eat a cookie, some papaya, and a bit of cucumber salad. A nap is also unsuccessful. We have a late afternoon meal at #WaroengEthnic ($4 rice dish for me, $8 steak for W). We admire the lush vines blooming at the restaurant.

We meet Cora, the guest staying upstairs. She's on a trip through the land of her grandparents and her mom. Her great-grandparents founded a school in Indonesia. Leonard and MaryJane Lanphear were among the oldest alumni of NU ('46) when I was alumni director. What a great connection and legacy. Once again our house becomes a meeting place.

By 3:30, I've cleared emails and am taking notes from a new textbook for the upcoming class. I collect a temporary library for my students as well. 

Bailey is a mess but gets a fine cleanup today.

Looking good! Thanks, PakG. Someone's sheared his topknot above his eyes; the groomer will fix the flathead and trim his muzzle next week.

Saturday - Happy 13th Birthday, Kinsey!

Our eldest grandchild becomes a teenager today. I've left her a card.

Lucky us: we got to celebrate her birthday with the family earlier this month in Montana. She's always been an adventurer and leader of the grandkid pack.

On our walk, I spot a vole or mole prone on the street. Looks like it keeled over in shock.

I pluck flowers from the garden for tomorrow's bouquet. This arrangement is simple (staghorn ferns, mosquito plants, and anthuriums) but big enough for the hall. The Italian vase, collected by Mom a half-century ago, is 12" tall.

IbuSiti presses the travel kinks out of my sore muscles in a long massage. What a blessing she is. After lunch, we change the aquarium water, do chores, and write a few proposals to partners.

It's a quiet start to the weekend as we celebrate the mercies of God at home.

Read more:

*I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him. Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, who does not look to the proud, to those who turn aside to false gods.

Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare. Psalm 40:1-5

*Who has performed and done this, calling the generations from the beginning? I, the Lord, am first and will be with the last. Isaiah 41:4

*Do not be afraid; I am the First and the Last and the Living One. Revelation 1:17-18

Moravian Prayer: Everlasting God, you have always been and will always be. You remain amazingly present, available, and steadfast while so much in our lives is adrift, fleeting, and senseless. We trust in your abiding presence in every moment of our lives. Thanks be to you. Amen.