Comfortable friends

Thursday, June 25, 2026
The rain slaps the metal roof for less than an hour, just long enough to settle the dusty roads of the campgound. It feels like everything around me is pink this summer.

The deep and light pink peonies are long-lived in fresh water.

I like the stacked white peonies, too. They're in three layers: nearest the stem, the lowered petals remind me of irises. The middle is fluffy like edgy mums. The top petals exuberantly stick out of the center.

I start a watercolor sketch but quickly lose interest. My friend Judy accurately describes this state of mind as "unpresent." 

Later in the day, I draw some lines to approximate the petals.

The prayer of St Patrick is written in an old sketchbook. I pull water and color across an empty spread. There's not much energy for anything today.

In contrast, W began repainting fading trim on the cabin yesterday. This morning, he starts on the doors, which were a deep fire-engine red. Nope, that's not the right shade. He heads to the paint store 10 miles away for a remix. It's quite orange but cheerful.

Earlier this week, after edging the plastic nursery carrier with wood scraps and moss, we jammed three 6-packs of flowers into it. W dug out enough soil from the ground to fill between plantings. We're not here long enough to see things mature. When we leave, I'll give them away. I need things growing around me.

This daisy has a bent stem. When I pull it off and flick it into the ground, the juxtaposition of bark, moss, leaves, and flower is too pretty to ignore.

One strange and expected consequence of aging is that perfect pitch starts to slip. I see a 4-part harmony score, listen to the voices, and think, "Wait, that's in G." Except when I retune my pitch to reconcile the score and voice, the key is indeed Ab. Weird. And disconcerting. It's like finding out that a blue truck is actually purple = similar but not the same color.

Wearing open sandals, W has stabbed his toe with a sharp stick on the path. Ouch. He's in the mood for burgers (again!) and drives up the hill for lunch. It's near enough that I can walk there and back. I order a "huckleberry special" burger, but they forget to add huckleberries. 

"Really?" The cook trots to the menu board and back into the kitchen. He returns with a small plate with frozen hucks, which I place under the lettuce and tomato. 

It's good - and the hucks are probably worth more than $1.50. (A huckleberry pie costs almost $50.) I take home half the burger for later. The plate of fries is huge, maybe 3X a large McDonald's portion. The potatoes are double-fried, delicious but not good for us. We take at least half home as well. I think I'm "burgered out."

The annual ferns are lacy along the road from town.

There's a swath of wildflowers seeded on the riverbank.

I'm in the mood to bake something and have been putting it off. We don't eat much and rarely like the same food. On the back of the oatmeal box is a recipe for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. It looks straightforward. We don't have chocolate chips but I smash in 2 Dutch gingerbread cookies (speculaas) and a few TJ toffee-chocolate cookies. We both like the cookies. Then I fall deeply asleep for an hour.

W's busy most of the day painting doors and trim. The satin paint is lighter, more orange, and flatter than the original glossy red. It looks fresh. He has paint splatters on his shirt and heads to the shower. I walk around the grounds before we head to the Lodge to check for online messages. I write the monthly update to partners. 

The trailer cover is in place atop the solotube concrete footings. Level. Well-placed. I'm in awe.

Friday
The men remove the bracing and fasten the trailer canopy. Now to move away the haul trailer and put the house trailer inside.

Some volunteers are craftsmen. Look at the series of doors on a storage building.

I chat with campers on my rounds of the camp. I get a tour of a home-built log cabin decorated with furs, paintings, and family treasures. It's nice to be outside, though it drizzles a bit.

Mitch and Keelee arrive in the evening. They've eaten a very late lunch. We snack and make cold-cut sandwiches with the meat and cheese they brought along. W and I don't get this kind of food in Indonesia; it's pure luxury.

Saturday
Keelee and I walk, rest, and chat with the guys. Mitch barbecues thick steaks (!drool!) along with our baked potatoes, corn on the cob, and coleslaw. It's bliss. We're so full that we snooze for most of the afternoon. I don't touch my computer all day.

In the evening, Keelee slips round balls of dough for chocolate chip cookies on an ungreased, room-temperature baking stone. The cookies hardly spread as they bake, rising perfectly as the stone heats up in the oven. OOOH, I just learned something new from this Quiet Waters baker.

We indulge in hot cookies with ice cream for supper. SO good!

Ahead of us on the clock, English classes at the Project are full of young learners and their moms. It's a full house in the various classrooms and on the porches.

Sunday

The Montana cabin cools down overnight. I take a hot shower before I head outside to find Keelee. She is already on her morning walk. 

We don't run out of things to talk about. I've talked more in the last 2 days than I do in a year in Indonesia. Being understood culturally and in our home language makes conversation easy and more complex than the simple functional language we use abroad. W speaks more there because he leads studies and is the liaison for trades and services.

The clovers don't smell strong today. I haven't tasted clover honey in a long time.

Keelee combines leftover steak, baked potatoes, corn, and (new) sautéd onions and peppers into a delicious brunch scramble. We pray and share scriptures - some are our life verses. Others have deep meaning for the season.

What a gift for W and me to visit with these friends. Mitch was W's teaching assistant for 2 years at NU. Keelee and I have been connected for years and have dear mutual friends.

Around noon, they leave behind warm words and so many groceries that we won't have to shop for a few days.

I send a video to my mom before sleeping for an hour to make up for a -4 hour night. Then it's off to the park canopy to use wifi and catch up on the outside world. It rains, drips, and blows. I'm wearing thick jeans, a few sweaters, thick knee socks, and an undershirt, with a wide-brimmed hat and raincoat on top. I am not warm but I'm not shivering much. I scroll through old Bandung Project garden photos because I feel homesick for tropical mountain weather.

The greenery here - especially the towering pines - around us feels similar. But the weather? not so much. The rain is cold. As are my fingers and toes.

Youthful campers are practising a play under cover behind the Lodge. They are over-the-top dramatic as they rehearse, as only teens can be. Makes me smile. Several get loudly into their parts, while the others mutter their lines. It's a joy to pray over whatever God has planned for them this weekend at camp. They go inside as the rain and wind intensify.

The cabin is freshly trimmed and welcomes me back on this blustery day. Temps climb to a high of 50oF/10oC by mid-afternoon. Brrr.

Read more:
* But you, take courage! Do not let your hands be weak, for your work shall be rewarded. 2 Chronicles 15:7

* He who forms the mountains, who creates the wind, and who reveals his thoughts to mankind, who turns dawn to darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth—the Lord God Almighty is his name. Amos 4:13

* Jesus said, “His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things; I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’” Matthew 25:21

* On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said,  rivers of living water will flow from within them.” John 7:37-38

Moravian Prayer: Lord, help us to be worthy stewards of your lands and people. We know we need to be fair and just when dealing with others, whether in work or play. Help us to love and respect others as you love and respect us. Amen.

Some creative and some academic work so far this week

Sunday, June 21, 2026

We walk through the camp to wake up. Brrrr. It's cold in the mornings. In the afternoons, we sit near the Lodge for wi-fi.

We love meeting with God's Family at Columbia Falls Canvas Church. Pastor Josh and his team lead a warm and welcoming time.

After, we try elk and buffalo burgers for the price of a used refrigerator in Bandung. Things aren't cheap here. I cook most of our meals.

In the evening, I have 3 hours of meetings with mentors and friends. They remind me of what's important and how to live well. The backdrop is so beautiful that they ask if it's fake. Nope, real Montana.

Monday
We join camp devotions at 8AM. The 30+ seniors keep the camp running. Some volunteers are retired ranchers and builders with practical skills. Camp supervisor Cal keeps the grounds in top-notch condition with their help. Their work allows the camp to host groups for a reasonable fee.

Donna's peonies start to open. Oh my!

We walk into the village for breakfast. The propeller seeds are forming overhead. 

Some of the trees snapped off in last month's windstorm but new leaves and branches are emerging.

We want some huckleberry pancakes. "We're not yet serving breakfast because we haven't got the staff." Most shops and restaurants depend on seasonal help. We pop into another shop, where W poses with a stuffed brown bear.

There's a lot full of wood sculptures. A fairly plain bench costs $1000 and the little bear is $225. No thanks.

I make pancakes in the cabin.

W and I connect with a few friends online and make a video for Mom. Sitting outside the cabin is relaxing. The air is fresh and warm by afternoon.

In the evening, W and I volunteer in the camp kitchen. A new group of campers (fairly tidy and organized) comes in tonight. We stand by the scraping station where dishes are returned to the kitchen.

This bucket "WARNING!" labels makes me shake my head. Most rules are in response to a transgression or danger. Did a baby drown in a similar pail? After a meal, campers empty ice and drinks into the 5-gallon bucket before tossing the cups into the garbage. 

Tuesday
It's been a rough night so I stay in bed while W heads to the camp devotional. We go to a thrift store 35 miles away. The roads are empty and the views are spectacular.

The signs at the checkout say items are weighed and cost $1.50/lb. We get two saucepans, work clothes, and tall mugs for tea.

At the main thrift store yesterday, I spotted a rug for $42 (with a seniors 50% discount). It matches our cabin colors. I took a photo to look at it in our cabin.

We go back today to see if it's still there. Yup - outside the cabin, we kick out the dirt before W vacuums it. 

Shall we use it in the kitchen? It would take up most of the floor.

I measure the living room and think about how I want to lay it out - sideways or lengthwise?

We lay it crosswise so it lights up the center of the room. I've come to terms with this: I always have ideas for sprucing up a space or concept. BUT each time I make a major change, it takes a few days to get used to it. It doesn't seem to matter whether a shift is theoretical, ideological, or practical.

I make homemade sauce: grilled onions, cabbage, tomatoes, and ground beef. We have pasta with a side salad and corn-on-the-cobb. I put most of mine back in the serving bowl before I touch it. It's a case of eyes being bigger than the stomach.

The mastermind meets online. Again, time with wise, honest, and transparent leaders refreshes my soul. The sun has gone behind the mountains by the time we're done. We're taking deep breaths of clean mountain air to clean for our city-polluted lungs. Despite DEET, the mosquitoes start to attack. It's time to walk back to the cabin at 7:30PM.

At the summer solstice, it won't be completely dark until 11PM. The pre-dawn light appears after 4AM. It's a short night, but the quiet is healing. Long passenger and freight trains pass by on the other side of the river, the clicking tracks and woo-whoo of the whistle piercing the night a few times.

Wednesday
I'm late getting out the door, but the wildflowers are as beautiful as ever.

A camp volunteer is picking up random branches and leaves. Someone picked up the tree trimmings from our yard before W could get to them! I say thank you to the voluneer - and notice a chainsaw in the back of his pickup. He trims the birch stumps to the ground before I get back to the cabin. THANK YOU, kind neighbor.

The streets are wide but empty. Our cabin is a refuge and a blessing. Friends arrange to join us for a few days on the weekend. I can't wait. They usually close the cabin for us at the end of summer, so enjoying it together without the workload is a treat all around.

Carolyn and I have a nice chat while I'm walking past her cabin. W and I have known some campers for 30 years.

Several peonies at Donna's are lying on the ground so I clip them with a scissor and arrange them at the cabin. With some weight lifted, other blooms push upwards from the grass.

I'm getting used to the rug. Ok, it's a keeper.

The "comfy chair" near the front door is the first destination for guests. We found it at a garage sale: solid, heavy, ugly, and perfect for long conversations. There's orange in the new rug to match it.

I take the battery-powered candles out of the dining chandelier. We found the lamp decades ago at a Whitefish clearance. We need brighter light = real candles. I trim the wicks, pre-light them, and blow them out so they're ready for the next evening with friends.

In the late afternoon, we chat with Bill about what he feels God is asking him to do. It's a privilege to pray together. Then I hop on Zoom to meet 9 doctoral students from across Asia. Tonight, we go through assignments and the syllabus so they're ready for the conference class in July. It will be an intense week of lectures, student presentations, and class interactions. I look forward to what the students prepare since they lead various organizations in diverse cultures.

My live ZOOM backdrop includes the burbling fountain in the park. 

Read more:
* Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but whoever hates correction is stupid. Good people obtain favor from the Lord, but he condemns those who devise wicked schemes. No one can be established through wickedness, but the righteous cannot be uprooted. Proverbs 12:1-3

* Our God is a God of salvation, and to God, the Lord, belongs escape from death. Psalm 68:20

* And God raised the Lord and will also raise us by his power. 1 Corinthians 6:14

Moravian Prayer: Lord, we know that you have the ultimate power over life and death. Be with us as we face our own mortality. Help us process the loss of loved ones. Strengthen us so we always feel your love and power around us. Amen.