Putting things in place again

Thursday, October 1, 2026
It's almost dark at 4PM. W and I are ready to rest after resetting the house after Games Night. The Project is a calm, quiet space when we don't have guests. 

The rooster I bought at the meat counter goes into the crockpot, beady eyes and all. The temperature is set on low to cook overnight. The meat will be frozen. All parts - including what we won't eat - flavour the broth. Tomorrow they'll be tossed to the dogs - they'll love it.

We're happy to relax over an early supper. The stretch-and-fold bread dough is easy. The wet dough requires no kneading. I estimate the measurements; how much do I need to fill a small loaf pan?

Stir together in a bowl:

• 3 parts flour stirred with 1 tsp yeast, 1 tsp sugar, and 2 tsp salt.
• Add 2 parts warm water and stir until a wet dough forms. (No need to get all the lumps out.)
• Cover with a towel or plastic wrap for at least 15 minutes.
  
  

Throughout the day, when you pass the kitchen counter, wet your hand, then:

• Pull up a quarter of the dough, flap it around, and lay it back into the middle of the bowl. Rotate the bowl a quarter-turn, doing a stretch-and-fold on each quarter.
• Cover it up, forget about it for 15 minutes to 2 hours, and repeat. It rises after each shake. (Make sure your hands are freshly washed and rinsed! so you don't transfer tastes to the dough.)
• Shake-and-fold 3 or 4 times, covering after each.
• Transfer the dough to an oiled loaf pan. Cover it again.
• Let it rise +30 minutes until doubled, and bake it at 425oF / 220oC for 30-35 minutes.
  

The recipe says to bake until it sounds hollow when tapped. Since my hottest oven maxes out at 350oF / 180oC,  I leave the bread in the oven for an hour.

• Cool it on a rack for at least 30 minutes.

Delicious. We slather the warm bread with Fix & Fogg ChocoNut Butter. Essentially, it's peanut butter with chocolate = dessert-like goodness. (Thanks, Lisa, for bringing the NZ treat to our house!)

Before 6PM, the security lights click on. We close the windows and draw the curtains.

Friday
The Project is resting as staff has other obligations. One is attending the circumcision of a child in her family. I'm up much of the night, wondering how to fit all the obligations into the coming day. Finally, reluctantly, I eliminate the women's walk that would take me away from 7 AM to noon. I simply don't have time.

W and I walk the dogs. They're ready to go and wait at the door while we pull on shoes.  Bruno's gait is steady until the last two blocks when his feet start to hurt. We put Paw Balm on his footpads when we get home.

Government workers are widening the drainage channel by our fence. The ditch catches the runoff from two directions since we live at a crossroad. Water jetting down the hill and surging across the street in front of the Project can overwhelm the current system.

There's always something in bloom. This tall tree is vibrantly purple.

A recent priority for the city government is to remove the little vendor stalls that have been built on public property. They narrow roads, while customers jut into traffic and slow everything down. This shelter has been a simple rest stop. It's empty at 6AM, but later in the day will be buzzing with drivers of private cars and on-call taxis. The lady who sells ramen and drinks will be missed; she also keeps the intersection swept and cleared of garbage.

"I wonder if the good fruit vendor is still at the roundabout," W says. No. It's gone. Yesterday the bulldozers demolished it and similar pop-ups. "Borrowing" space along the roads is illegal, but the rule hasn't been enforced since we've been here (+12 years).

Shop owners scramble to get their goods out of the way. In one day, their livelihood and everything they've built are in ruins. Where will sellers and vendors relocate their businesses, especially in overcrowded neighborhoods? 

Where will neighbors go for the goods and services these small vendors offered?  It's not only the fruit and food sellers who disappear. It's the expert mechanic everyone goes to for a tune-up or fixing flat tires. Gone is the welder who makes gates and repairs tables. The little coffee and ramen carts move here and there, avoiding a shutdown. [We find out Sunday from friends that portable vendors are ok; the permanent structures are being dismantled.]

Friends and partners have requested updates and videos. We put that off for a month until W could speak more clearly. We film one-off rough takes in the backyard, add photos for others to edit in, and send them off. One by one, the checklist gets shorter.

We make a quick trip to the grocer. Overnight, the chicken broth has cooked. I freeze several bags and cube trays before refilling the slow cooker with drinking water and new spices for a second round. It cooks all day. I try some stretch-and-fold rolls. It requires a casual walk-by lift and cover several times in the morning. I bake them in time for supper, as a side to the chicken soup.  

Some dog-baby gates arrive, thanks to Kel. As we open the package, Bruno walks away and lies down with his face away. "No more gates for me," he may be thinking. He's learning to roam the big Project yard with the rest of the pack.

W figures out how to put the gates together, and indulges me with a short walk before dark. No dogs come along because we're walking through a narrow neighborhood lane lined with a plethora of cats.

The orchid sent in August is still stunning on the Porch dining table. The other orchids gifted to us months ago are on their second bloom.

I'm less excited about the weeds seeding in the laundry courtyard and send a heads up to the helpers to clear them out.

Saturday
A long stream of children and moms show up at 1PM, before any volunteers arrive. "What's going on? Their normal time is 2- 4 PM," I text to the group leader.

"Oh, we have a parent meeting in the conference room first," he tells me. The parents disappear into the room but someone looks after the kids (not me!). It's noisy fun as they run off their energy.

We're fine with that, but please let us know in advance when you change plans for 115 kids. There are more parents today, maybe 30 or 40 who are not learners. To compound the surprise, PakG takes off to a parent-teacher meeting for his own children before the sessions start. Daniel swings by for a Porch talk. 

We notice that Bruno can't see past his facial fringe. The little mop of hair on his nose has grown in the week he's been here. He can hardly see past it. (This was when he came, 1 1/2 weeks ago - poodle hair grows quickly.)

I clip it and suddenly he's more alert. Maybe it's like removing a veil from the eyes.

He barely looks up, relaxing in the backyard with kids shouting on the other side of the carport wall. The other dogs are out cold; they pay no attention as I walk by.

Most of the volunteers are students who love dogs. When they're done with the kids, the dog pack gets immersive socialization. It's good for them all to be petted, hugged, and shouted at by happy people. It's a whole new world for Bruno, who essentially lived in a big room with another dog and a few adults around. He happily accepts the love. 

Even Bailey, the small deaf poodle, enjoys the attention. "He's too old for walks," PakG told us yesterday. He had to be carried home on the second half of a slow walk. No worries, he can go around the Project yard at his own pace.

At 5, Eki, Lyong, and their dates drop in for cookies and a chat. It's wonderful when young people from years ago come back to visit. They've matured, are working adults, and have made progress toward setting up their own families.

Sunday

The roar of machinery at 2 and 3AM is strange. When we go for a walk, we see that the street drains are partly filled with concrete blocks to line the channel. Who was sent by the city at that hour? They leave a big gap between blocks, filled in by rocks. Hopefully they make one smooth path - otherwise the sticks, leaves, mud, and garbage will snag and clog the drain in no time. 

The 10K Padma Run starts at 5AM. Runners are beginning to cross the finish line as we walk by at 6.

The dogs accept the runners who pose for selfies with them. They ignore the squeals of "oh they're so cute!" and the foot traffic. There's no hesitation or flinching. Bruno watches the others and accepts it all as his due.

Read more:
* You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again. Psalm 71:20

* Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done.
Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts.
Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.
Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced, 
you his servants, the descendants of Israel, his chosen ones, the children of Jacob.
He is the Lord our God; his judgments are in all the earth. 1 Chronicles 16:8-14

* The Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trial. 2 Peter 2:9

Moravian Prayer: Saving God, we thank you for rescuing us. You save us from the troubles and trials that surround us each and every day. You even save us from ourselves and from our sins. May we continue to find in you peace and rest for our souls. Amen.

Friends making friends, people influencing people

Monday, September 28, 2026
We take a 3 1/2 hour train into Jakarta, across some of the loveliest terrain in Java.

As we head for the train station, I snap a photo of our steep driveway entry. We built it up at some expense to keep water from flooding the house and yard. The Department of City Waterworks has a crew in the neighborhood to redo the street drains. We want to ensure that they replace what they remove.

Lunch aboard the train is the kababs purchased at a food stand in the train station. As in much of Indonesian food, there's sugar in the sauce.

Freeways and railroads depend on bridges. Central Java is hilly, with deep valleys and towering mountains. Many railway bridges were built with accurate Dutch engineering, 90-100 years ago.

The mix of old and new is typically Indonesian. Technological advances are on one side, with ancient farming methods on the other.

In rainy season, the rivers churn through the valleys. They are tame during dry season.

Farmers cut terraces into the hillsides with pickaxes and shovels. A variety of crops grow on the stepped landings.

Most rice fields have been harvested. They lie fallow, waiting for the abundant irrigation of the wet season.

W's gotten a deal on the hotel. No surprise there - it's half the price of a budget hotel in the USA. Still, even he rarely pays 25% of the regular room rate. The hotel is a kilometer from the train station. It may be hot out (33oC / 92oF) but we're saving $4 in taxi fees by walking 12 minutes to our accommodations. I'm happy when W carries his tote and my carry-on bag. 

Without ameliorating socks, the backs of my shoes rub long blisters in my heels. I limp past a military compound and government buildings.

It's hard to imagine a regime turning on its own people, as often happens in history.

The 5-star Hotel Borobudur sits on 23 acres (+9 hectares) in a city crammed with people. The "who's who" in historical photos includes famous actors and actresses, rock stars, and even Prince Charles and Diana (in 1989, a while ago.)

We unpack, catch a ride to a shop and back, shower, and head to dinner. It's unusual for me to speak for us. Waldemar is used to taking the lead and usually has interesting resources to share. His stroke recovery is steady though his speech can be halting when stressed.

Tuesday
The hotel boasts an exceptional breakfast buffet. We try a little of everything.

While W checks out of the room, I walk around the perimeter. The jogging path is soft underfoot with its recycled rubber surface. I pass basketball and tennis courts, the spa and gym, a heliport, and a huge swimming pool. There's more that I don't see.

We walk back to the train station and relax on the trip to Bandung. The scenery stuns us on every trip.

We disembark in Bandung. It's a short stop for the train before it winds along to a city 3 hours further down the rails. PakG picks us up. We stop by the art framer's shop. His challenge was to cover the broken corners of a decrepit 100cm/39" mirror found in the Project yard. He has lots of work - and can't find the bill. Luckily, W has kept his copy in the car.

Most of the glazing peeled off the back of the mirror while it sat exposed along a fence. I sprayed the bare patches with chrome motorcycle paint. Now it looks like an antique. We'll find the perfect place for it soon, but not today.

We pay for the mirror and Dolly's watercolor, which he matched to "the wild thing" pastel painting we already had.

After I make lunch and unpack, we raid the library shelves for games for tomorrow's Games Night. 26 puzzles and 2 easy games ... we bought one pack of UNO and the secondhand puzzles. Over time, we have collected a good variety from others. (We're not games people.) 

It's our first big open house in months. The rooms are rearranged so that young people can circulate and befriend each other.

Wednesday
No morning walk for me - but the dogs happily go out the gate with W. Bruno goes a block before he comes back in with sore feet. However, he's improving and starting to explore the yard. That's a big deal. He'll build up muscle soon enough.

I cook our breakfast before 2 back-to-back online seminars, starting at 6AM. The timing of meetings is inconvenient when the information is being given from the other side of the globe. One workshop is about healthy relationships with adult children. The other is about reorganizing the Transforming Center. TC offers spiritual formation retreats, offers counsel and podcasts, and is a great resource. Its founding member Ruth Hailey Barton has stepped back from leadership; it has grown beyond her capacity. The board is prayerfully rewriting the future and fundraising. Both sessions are helpful.

Then it's on to grading papers, finding out where to submit the grades, writing letters to grandchildren, as well as writing a letter of recommendation for a grant applicant. A German chocolate cookie and a cup of tea make the going easier.

W walks 3 km/2 miles to the hospital. I check his route on a mapping device and chuckle at the stern warning to take a taxi or angkot (public vans) instead of walking. "Given the steep inclines and lack of continuous pedestrian-friendly sidewalks in certain sections, walking is generally not recommended for this specific trip, especially if you are visiting the hospital for medical reasons." 

The app has noted the cracks, gaps, tilted levels, and uneven steps of the walkways. That's not stopping anyone; it's "just the way things are" in Bandung. We constantly scan the surfaces ahead and watch our feet.

"What are the chances of rain?" I ask W as a glowering sky hovers. 

He checks. "Ten percent in 5 hours." By noon, that prediction turns into a solid downpour, gushing through the downspouts and watering the garden. Apparently poodles love rain as much as little boys do. Anton cruises around until he's sopping wet.

Two regular helpers and a caterer friend arrive in the afternoon. Over 80 have signed up (plus staff) for Games Night. She asks if she should reduce the amount from the 100 portions we have ordered. "No, sometimes the guys want more food and many will come for seconds." 

About 60 young people drop in. Others offer reasons for missing out.

The caterer plates the food in our buffet trays and bowls and leaves for another assignment. Someone brings pizza, another dumplings, and still another food I don't recognize. 

Moving through the line, the young people heap their plates in normal movie-night proportions. "Remember there are people behind you," I caution them, looking at the serving table. Doesn't help. We run out of meat within half an hour, with a long dinner line still to go. Even the two big bowls of rice are empty.

I text the caterer. "We need 1.5-2X the amount." She must stay and serve the portions or box the food individually. It's tricky to reckon the amounts. I send her the movie night menu: 600 pieces of meat (breakfast sausages, meatballs, and chicken wings), plus 3 starches, 2 hot vegetables, salad, cheese balls, and dessert baking, fruit, and yogurt. Sometimes there are few leftovers, even with that abundance. It depends on how hungry the students are.

There are no complaints; the young people eat what they get. They spread around the Project to eat. They they grab games and group off to play. Miky teaches his table to play mahjong, which is all the rage in Indonesia. The click-click of the tiles and laughter of the players echoes through the yard.

I warn our guests to wrap up their games 15 minutes before the end of the evening. They also need time to recycle their cups and plates. The helpers make short work of a basic cleanup for the evening.

Before everyone leaves, the bunch asks: "Please take our picture!" I get out my iPhone to shoot the ones still here after an initial exodus. While they're standing together, we pray a blessing over them. Many need provision, help with their studies, and good friends if they've moved into the city from elsewhere.

"I think I just met my new best friend," one gal exclaims as they hug and smile at each other. They attend the same university and make plans to meet for coffee. Interpersonal connections are a lasting outcome. It's also fun when young people bring their spouse or a date for the first time.

"I want a photo with you two," say several groups. So we take those too. We do minimal cleanup before bed.

Thursday
"We hiking today?" I ask W. He looks at me in disbelief. Instead, we do two long rounds of the neighborhood. The new addition Bruno loves walks and insists on coming along. He is limping and gliding less. To protect his feet, we dop the dogs off after one loop.

This multicolored wonder grows along the narrow gang (motorcycle lane) nearby.

When W and I come back, Bruno has enough confidence to tiptoe behind W down the unfamiliar-surfaced driveway.

W has to replenish some meds at the pharmacy. While he's waiting, I stock up on fruit and the helpers' monthly "gifts" of oil, sugar, and rice. Passing the meat counter, I decide to try the difference in taste between roosters and chickens. 

"Use a rooster for soup," I'm advised. "It's more like dark turkey meat, good for long stewing." Really?

What's that on a side shelf? You know the UK bone china brand, Royal Albert? Here they have Royal Alfred dishes. I blink a few times but the label doesn't change.

W waits in line for Volcano Chicken, the nearest thing to Costco Rotisserie fowls. These are flavorful but 1/3 the size. At home, we toss vegetables, the skinny rooster, and skin and bones from the Volcano packages into a slow cooker. We'll stew that overnight, topping up with water occasionally. The Volcano meat is packaged and frozen for later.

The helpers erase footprints as they vacuum and wash floors and remove fingerprints from glass surfaces. They return the games to the library shelves and furniture, pillows, and ornaments to the living rooms. W wipes the floors with rust-remover where a bidet hose has leaked. Our well water is so iron-rich that water drops color the fixtures and floors brown.

 Since morning, this pull-and-fold loaf has been rising. I'm teaching the household helpers a new method of bread-making. I sprinkle Japanese smoked sesame seeds on top. Let's see if the oven gets hot enough ot dry out the dough today.

The street drains are being fixed just in time. Like yesterday, there's a good downpour in mid-afternoon. The rainy season may be here.PakG and the dogs get caught in the rain on their last walk of the day. Only the human minds that. The dogs love it. Farmers will be relieved. The plants and earth smell fresh and hydrated.

The July class finally wraps up with the grades posted by the school. An academic press sends me a journal article with, "Can you edit this for us by November?" Why not? Editing is somewhat mindless, but I learn as I read others' research.

Read more:
* Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Psalm 25:3

* Blessed be the name of God from age to age, for wisdom and power are his. Daniel 2:20

* The ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe only for a while and in a time of testing fall away. Luke 8:13

* Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Revelation 7:12

Moravian Prayer: Lord, strengthen our hearts to remain firm in trials. Let our trust in you be deep and unshakable, not fleeting like shallow roots. Protect those who wait on you, and let deceit not prevail. Keep us faithful and grounded in you.

Almighty God, we bless your name forever! All wisdom, power, and glory belong to you. We rejoice in your majesty and give you thanks, for you reign in righteousness. May our hearts forever praise you, now and for all eternity. Amen.

Life before and during

Friday, September 25, 2026
The book group meets in the afternoon. We have a lively discussion about a teenager's recollections of the political revolution in Indonesia in the 1960s.

Saturday
The morning is full. The crack in our office floor is worsening with the constant earthquake tremors. The tremors are small and mostly undetected, but the heavy clay roof tiles can't be helping keep the foundation stable.

I jump out of the way of a snake in the road. Oh wait. It's a 24 inch/60cm twisted branch. Whew. It's good to pay attention. As I walk the dogs near a fence, a big lizard falls out of the tree, lands in a pile of leaves, and disappears into the heap.

Is our new dog Bruno limping? He has a strange gait, half lope, half reluctance. Maddie reports the same of Mary, her new dog. After a slow 1 1/2 miles walk on paved roads, Bruno's foot pads are a bit bloody. Oh oh, what's going on?

The previous owner and I WhatsApp back and forth. I have some questions about the dogs and the rehabilitation they require. Turns out Bruno and his mate Mary have lived inside on ceramic tile since they arrived 5 years ago. They don't know grass or dirt because they've never encountered it. That explains their slinking and gliding on tiptoe around the yard.

During a call with dear friend Keelee (a professional baker @QuietWatersBakery), I make "shake and fold" bread, following instructions from a Scottish FB baker. Easy peasy.

I test both ovens: one maxes out at 300° (150°C) and the other at 350° (180°C). Neither is hot enough for bread. The loaf pan goes into the hotter one, for a slightly longer time than recommended.

The bread is excellent: as soft as rolls, without kneading. I let it cool completely before storing it in the wax breadbag. I can't use a bread box because the ants (especially the tiny ones) would get through the smallest crack and be all over the food.

Sayaka comes for lunch at #NannyPavion. Then she does myofascial therapy with W. As always, it's very helpful and exhausting.

Meanwhile, I head to a nearby women and children's clinic. It's a delight to welcome little Sora ("sky" in Japanese, and "on the journey" in Spanish). She arrived into the world this morning. Mom Angie and her beautiful newborn girl are doing well.

The English groups, with about 100 kids, are in full swing when we get back. The volunteers know just how to set up and clean up. There's music, language practise, and of course snacks at the end. Harun, a tall teen, plays on his computer and enjoys cookies while his mom teaches the ABC song.

For supper, besides fresh bread, we enjoy lemper (rice steamed in leaves) that W picked up in the hospital cafeteria. The doc gave him a good medical report at his monthly checkup.

When you break it open, there's chicken inside.

Anton gets the poodle "zoomies." His skids and full-speed runs are devastating as he plows through the flowers and grass-like lawn. He's showing off for Bruno, trying to get him to run and chase. Not yet. But hopefully soon!

We're happy that all the moms and kids gets home before a light rain falls. What good timing! And how it is needed in the yard. After soaking the ground slightly, the real rain begins. The downpour floods the streets, yards, and drains.

I wake at midnight, review student grades from the last class, and send off the results to co-teacher Gail. She's a star at compiling their results. We learn in every session we teach, especially from the research of doctoral students. They live and serve in various cultures and countries so offer fresh perspectives.

Sunday
I rest before our neighbor DrW swings by with goodies from Poland.

They're redoing the neighborhood drainage, cutting the narrow channel wider before rainy season. The jackhammers and pickaxes are loud and effective.

PakChandra drops off another fantastic bouquet that Titik made.

Up close, every petal is perfect.

The garden is happy with last night's downpour, too. There are daylilies.

Curly blooms.

Neon ball flowers.

The 8' /2.70cm shrub has a dozen pink blossoms. They're big: 4" /10cm across and last only a day.

The fragrance of the jasmines reaches the Porch.

We walked first thing, but Bruno became exhausted with one loop. He's been lying around since. He's afraid of the driveway (cement bricks), as well as the grass and soil in natural areas. There's no way to take him hiking until he grows calluses on the pads of his feet. Will he have bone or muscle damage from never being in the sun? We'll wait and see.

Chacha and I meet at #MissBeeProvidore for conversation and lunch.

Having a hot bath is complicated. The electric heater produces lukewarm water for showers, but W found an immersion water heater online. We fill the tub, plug it in, haul a few pails of hot water from the serving kitchen, and a half-hour later, the bath is ready with the help of the heater.

You have to plan ahead. And later, all the surfaces have to be wiped dry. There are the beginnings of rust-like stains on the tile surround and the plastic tub. It's from the well water.

I enjoy a piece of Keelee's #QuietWatersBakery coffee cake with a cup of tea.

Oh oh, the 10' / 350cm hedge beside the driveway is leaning.

"Blown by the wind and rain, it's going to come down," warns PakT. He gets the costs for shoring it up, permission from the neighborhood who owns the fence behind it, and says 2 guys will be needed for the work. I also text the Project owner, who says he'll take care of it. We don't want to cut down his privacy-security hedge! It's also an effective sound barrier against the busy lane behind it.

The wind kicks up at 3, blowing leaves, needles, and cones off the trees. The yard is a mess but it will be swept tomorrow. The chimes sing as the sky darkens.

Monday
We leave Bruno (new poodle) home after a walk in our yard. His footpads are still sore from the short walks around the neighborhood. What are those white flowers? Can it be .... !

Indeed. It is my favorite flower. The only 5-star hotel on the hill recently renovated its rooms and gardens. They've planted a hedge of gardenias! Wonder if they noticed that we stop every morning to smell the gardenias at the neighbor's house, across from their parking lot. So yummy - like heaven's perfume.

W helps make a hearty breakfast.

We make a mess from peeling pomegranates, lunch prep, and cleaning out the fridge. I put all the cut vegetables and meats in one ziplock, label it "SOUP needs broth," and put it in the freezer.

The yard is bursting with color.

This looks like a zinnia - pretty red.

We pack. Then we're off to the train station mid-morning, headed to a mandatory organizational supper in the next city. We'll not be gone long. The trains are clean and generally safe.

Read more:
* But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me. Psalm 13:5-6

* And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations. Matthew 24:14

* The same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. Romans 10:12

Moravian Prayer: Gracious Lord, our hearts rejoice in you! You are our God, our source of true happiness. Your generosity knows no bounds—it pours blessings upon all who call on you. May we always praise you with joyful hearts and grateful souls.

Lord of all, your reign stretches to the ends of the earth, and your kingdom is our refuge. May your truth be proclaimed to every nation, and may all people recognize your power and love. Be our guide, now and forever. Amen.