Plyometrics

That's jump training! I just finished my last P90X workout of the year with the mother of all X workouts, plyometrics. It feels good to be done with it. I have the tail end of a cold and I am hoping that I sweated out the remains of it.

I ended the workout with a papaya protein shake made by my dearest husband. Thank you Steve. And Happy New Year!

phosphorescence

Continuing with my "P" theme for December, I come to what might be my last post of the year (who knows). So "phosphorescence" is the title of my post today.

In our house, we have 5 tube-lights that are out. I know most people in other parts of the world, don't use tube-lights in their house usually. Maybe in a kitchen or bathroom. We have them in every room in our house. And now 5 of those rooms are without. The kitchen has no other light. One bathroom has no other light. The other bathroom has a small light. Our bedroom has other lights. And the front room has other lights.

The kitchen and the bathroom are the biggest problems, but the others bother me too. So why don't we do something about it? Good question. For one, we hate calling an electrician over and over again. Every couple of weeks a light will go out and it seems silly to call the electrician. Although half of the time it isn't the bulb but some faulty wiring. And the other thing is, we don't know where to buy tube lights ourselves. And we are probably lazy.

So we have a dark kitchen. I was fine until I had to clean the rice. Then I realized that I would prefer a light to be able to see if there are bugs in my rice. And the bathroom is okay until I want to take a shower. The one without any light is the one that has the good shower, so I have to take my shower by candlelight, which isn't very bright.

I guess I could go find a tube light store, or at least ask around, but I think this is a man's job. And I suppose it doesn't bother Steve enough to go do it himself. So we are stuck without light.

P-P90X

That is Post P90X. My post is on post.

So it has been hard getting into a good routine for my post P90X life. Christmas is a busy time. I have worked at the Red Moon Bakery at the mall this week. Just had my last shift today. There is a gym at the mall and they did a performance several times this week. I watched them and thought to myself, "There is no way I could do what they are doing without looking like I am dying." I think I am more of an old woman's trainer.

After watching the workout performance, which included kick-boxing and aerobics, I decided I felt fat and I should eat a cookie. So back to the bakery stand I went and ate a butter cookie. Tomorrow I will get back to my post P90X life.

Pasties or Pastries

An Aussie friend just asked me by text message if the bakery I work at sells fruit mince pies. I wrote her back that a tart is 50 ruppees. She called me laughing because in Australia they have a weird meaning for "tart" and that is a woman who goes out with too much make-up, or a prostitute. So she thought it quite amusing that I said a prostitute was only 50 ruppees.

A few years ago another friend was speaking at a ladies luncheon at a church. The little schedule they hand out said that there would be "pasties" for dessert.

You never know what you will get when working at a bakery.

Precious Turtles

My mom sent me a package a while ago that was just food. Packaged food items like mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, and a box of Turtle Cookies. We have friends visiting so I thought I would make the cookies to eat with them. So I got out my oven for the first time since we moved here in September. It is a small toaster sized oven that fits nicely under our cupboard.

I followed the directions to the best of my ability and made a nice smear of cookies. They are suppose to be bar cookies. First is a layer of cookie goop and then some carmel and then another layer of goop. I got it all together and went to put it in the little oven. But the pan wouldn't fit. It was just a bit too big for the over. Well layered cookie bars are hard to transfer to a new pan, so that process ruined the lovely layered effect.

So I scooped out the goop and put it in a bread pan. The bread pan only fit half of what the original pan held so I decided to make two pans full. I cooked it for the specified time but it was still gloopy. We ate it like that in bowls. The second batch I decided not to check on until a good 5 minutes over the specified time, because I get impatient and take things out before they are ready. So this time the whole batch of gloop burnt. I just left it in the bread pan over night and thought I would deal with it today. Bad idea. I am sure it would have come out of the pan easier when it was warm. Today I have had to chisel it away and double boil it and try numerous ways of heating up the pan. I finally got some chunks out and fed it to the boys in our house. One of them took a bite and made a noise and headed to the garbage to toss the cookie bar away. It hit the garbage bucket with a thud.

So now you know why I don't take the oven out of the cupboard very often. My precious box of turtle cookie bars was ruined by our stupid oven. How do they expect me to work in these conditions.

Pound Cake

The apartment below us is being remodeled. The way they do that here is to use a sledge hammer and break the cement and brick walls down and then build new ones. The breaking of the walls is what is happening these days. If you can imagine constant pounding on brick walls below your feet, you are begining to know how I feel all day long. It actually sounds like it is coming from my bedroom right now.

We have had this happen many times before. Our old house had the neighbor rebuild their house for a year and a half. After that, we had to go to counseling for stress. Then another neighbor decided that their house needed a face-lift. ARGHHHH!

All day long, except for lunch break, we have banging. When I try to take a nap it feels like a massage bed that you get at cheap hotels. I remember our family vacations when I was a kid. After the long drive, my dad would sometimes put the quarter in the bedside machine to give him 10 minutes of a shaky bed. Sometimes he let us enjoy the vibration if he wasn't too cheap. (at least that is the way I remember it)

A few weeks ago an apartment building callapsed. I wonder if it was from a wall being torn down and no longer able to support the 4 floors above it. We may never know.

All this pounding makes me want to eat cake. And not the kind that P90X allows you to eat. I want the big, gooey, chocolate kind. Notice the nuts on the cake. Or a pie would do. And please slip some Valuim in the cake.

Poke

Well it finally happened. I got poked. I think usually it is more of a grab, but for me it was just a poke. Still not sure if it was an accident or on purpose. I've been told that it is always on purpose, but I am still not convinced.

Yesterday I took a friend to the very crowded, Monday Market. Lots of pushing happens. Ladies in burquas push just to move down the lane. And mix in with that a motorcycle, some school kids, and men. We are all trying to find good deals on cloth, fuzzy sweaters, and shoes. I told my friend that she should hold her hands up around her chest just as a layer of protection. Sometimes people take the opportunity of a crowd to reach out and touch someone, so we both were walking with our arms kind of clutching our purse straps. And then it happened. The poke. A beggar man had his palm out for money and reached up to poke me on the shoulder. Only he didn't hit my shoulder. He hit a softer spot of my upper body that I was trying to protect. I swung my elbow towards him but didn't make contact. Then as I walked away, I smiled. It was comical to me for some strange reason. Here I was trying to protect my friend and be an expert in street smarts, and I am the one who gets poked.

Processing Death

Micah is an artist and a thinker. I love how this comic captures his processing the death of Great Grandpa Harvey who passed away this week.

My Grandpa

This morning I got the call that I have been expecting for several weeks now, my Grandfather passed away. He was 93 years old. A wonderful example of godliness and goodness. He joins Jesus and my Grandma in heaven, probably having his banquet right now. I imagine it to be a wonderful reunion with family who have gone before, and friends who he hasn't seen for a long time. I have a cousin Jenny there and another cousin's son Aaron. I wonder what they are eating.

My Grandpa called me, "My Leslie." He said that is what my Grandma always called me. So for the last couple of years he referred to me that way too. It is something that will always be dear to me. I know that I was treasured by my grandparents.

I have a wonderful family. We have our little black sheep too, but they are also cared for deeply. Most everyone is following Jesus with their whole hearts. Some have had seasons away from God, but have joyfully returned. Knowing Jesus has bound us together in a special way. We may not be close, but our faith is the same. And we will always be able to share that.

So raise your glasses to My Grandpa! May he enjoy his welcoming party!

Fetish

I love sweater vests! My new name for the fuzzy, sparkly ones is Muppet Vests. I wish I had one. They look so warm and cozzy. I wish my mom knit so she could make me one. I would choose a purple one or a dark blue one. Or one of each.

Armpits

Today I said, "I hate my armpits!" It got a laugh out of Micah. The more I thought about it, the more I agree with myself. Armpits are stinky.

I have always been a sweaty person. I remember in high school, going into the bathroom to wipe my pits with toilet paper to dry them. I hated to raise my arms up because I was embarassed by the wet spot. I'm sure there is some emotional scar from it.

Anyway, I am still a sweaty person. I hate clingy clothes because it just makes me sweat. Most fabrics cause me to sweat even in the winter. It is just who I am I guess.

I think the sweating problem is one reason why I am not a huggy person. I hate to put my sweaty armpits on someone.

Another reason I thought of today about why I hate armpits is that they get hairy. So now I not only have to worry about sweat, but I have to think about hair. If I raise my arm, will the person see that I haven't shaved in a week? And what about the smell? Why is it that very few deodorants work for me?

If my armpits weren't so important to the upper half of my body, I would probably have them surgically removed.

Pre, Mid, Post

You will now see pictures of me scantly dressed. You have been warned. But here is the difference from P90X. Not huge, but still there is some progress. Pretty good for a near 40 year old. I am just proud that I finished all 90 days. This is before P90X, and 60 days, and finish. Can you tell which is which? I look so good in all of them that it is hard to tell.

Stump

I am going through a process of change in my life. I thought I liked change, but it turns out that some change is bad. I feel like I have lost a part of myself with this change.

My teeth have always been bad. Once, when I was a kid, I had 10 cavities at one time. And I brush twice daily and floss sometimes. But my mom says it is because she either had too much or too little floride when she was pregnant with me. So my teeth are bad.
Which is why I am needing a root canal. Actually, I don't think I really needed a root canal, but they like to do extreme measures here with medical needs, so I "needed" a root canal. I just went in to get a filling replaced, but because my filling was deep and there wasn't much tooth left, the doctor said to get a root canal and then a cap.

I had the root canal last week and am waiting for the cap to be made. So the doctor whittled down my tooth until it is just a stump in my mouth. And it makes me sad. I feel it all the time and just get sad.

So if I seem a little quiet and withdrawn, it is because I am mourning my tooth.

Eid Mubarak

I Lift my eyes up psalm 121

Last night I went to church with a friend. It was more of a youth group than a church really. We enjoyed our time, sharing about Courage Homes. I was just there for moral support. Anyway.....

We sang the song, "I Lift My Eyes Up." I have sung it many times, but this was the first time I saw it from the eyes of a girl stuck in slavery. I pictured a girl in a dark, small room, with a window with bars on it. She is looking out of the bars as she sings her prayer to God, the only one she can ask to help her.

Tourette Syndrome

I think I have Tourettes. You know, when you can't control what you say. It seems that I can't stop myself from saying some things and I then wish I hadn't. Not that it is bad. I say things that are off the wall. But I don't mean to say them. They just come out. So, for all my friends, please remember that this is a medical issue that I have.

The Day My God Died

This is a MUST SEE video on trafficking. Please take the time to watch it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BV5W6F4L5i8&feature=related (just click on the title of this post and it will go to it)

Taser

Have you ever wanted a taser? I thought about one the other day. I was thinking how helpful it would be if I ever got grabbed. I didn't talk to Steve about it, I just thought about it. Well today Steve came home with a taser. It is also a flashlight. Because you can always use a taser/flashlight combo.

So what can we do with a taser/flashlight combo? It isn't even a very powerful flashlight. So really I think the flashlight is just to get you out of trouble with the police. "No, I didn't taser anyone, it was just a flashlight."

Grandpa

My Grandpa is 93 years old. He is my last grandparent to be living. He is a great man. He was a wonderful husband to my Grandma and is a wonderful father to my mom and her sisters. Now he is getting near the end of his life. The last thing he hopes to do is to die well.

So I have been thinking a lot about Grandpa Harvey. How does a person die well? Is it by living a good life? No, that to me doesn't make sense. I know Grandpa lived a good life and was a good person, but that doesn't mean he will die well. I think it must be that God will be with him when he dies, so I have to trust that God will help him to walk the valley of death and have no fear.

So my prayer for my Grandpa is, "God, please be near to Grandpa during these last days on earth. Walk with him as he enters into the next life. May he know your presence Jesus. Amen."

Shoulder

I really love the P90X Kenpo! I, for some reason, can't seem to do it without making noise though. I have to hit and grunt. Tonight I was really getting into it when I heard my shoulder make a tearing sound. Not good. I thought for sure I had torn the rotator cuff thingy. I have been having shoulder pain for many weeks now, even before starting P90X, so i thought I had probably gone too far. But the amazing thing is that whatever the sound was, it actually fixed my shoulder. It doesn't hurt anymore. So here is to P90X for fixing my shoulder. I just hope it stays this way.

Micah's 10th Birthday

Talk

I talked to my sister and parents on the phone this morning. We talked about the Myers Briggs test that tells you what personality type you are. A lot of people know their letters and apparently that is fun. So I decided I would take the test online and find out what I am. I was only two letters mostly and 1% of two other letters. I was going to memorize the letters, but now I only remember that I am an "I" and "J". For some, that says a lot. For others, that means nothing. I am one of those that it means nothing to. All I know is that "I" is for introvert.

Today we watched our friends' kids all day long. I took the kids to the park first thing, hoping to help get some energy out. They are in to pillow fighting right now, so I wanted to help tone that down by being outside a bit. The boys played with sticks the whole time and the girl found a rock and made it her friend. It was all fine until her rock pushed her off the swing. She landed on her back, but she was okay.

Later, I took the girl to the market with our friend. We had lunch, did some shopping, got money, and then she had ice cream. What amazed me is that my little friend talked the WHOLE time we were out. She must be an "E". While she and our friends ate ice cream, the little beggar kids watched them through the glass store front. It was too much for my little friend to take. She ended up giving them half her ice cream and the coke she had left over from lunch. I thought the beggar kids would share, but they didn't. There were 5 of them and only two items.

Steve took the boys out to the sports area and I stayed with my little friend. She watched a movie while I did my P90X. Then it was time to find something to do. After the movie she started talking again. She talked about her rock and how excited she was to get home to paint it. So I decided it was time to take her home. She played in her room while I read the paper. And she talked. She talked to her rock. She talked to herself. And she just talked on and on.

I would guess that my little friend talked for 5 hours today. I wonder how many words that is. I am in awe of how she can entertain herself with her rock and how she can have so much to talk about. I tried to match her talking but really just ran out of things to say. I blame it on being an "IJ".

Set Apart

I don't know the statistics, but my guess is that the majority of people have sex before or outside of marriage. Even people who talk about how important it is to wait for marriage have had sex before marriage. The biggest group to talk against sex outside of marriage is the Church. But even in the church there is a growing population of those who have not heeded this advice. So is it just that the world has changed and that it is not seen as a bad thing anymore? Do people really believe that there is value to wait?

I doubt that any campaign can change the mind of the majority, but I do think that the Church needs to change. I think the Church has been lack in talking about the subject. There were several reasons that I chose to wait for marriage. One is that I was afraid to disappoint my parents. Another is the fear of pregnancy and guilt. But fear is not the only reasons. I also believe that as a Believer, I am set apart for God. I believe the Bible is the word of God and teaches truth. So the Bible teaches that sex outside of marriage is not what God wants for us. So that is the main reason that I chose to wait. I think the church needs to teach this. We are set apart! Special! Loved! And God's plan for our happiness is that we only have sex in a marriage.

P90X week 9

This is my 9th week of the P90X. It hasn't gone well. I started off the week with Micah's birthday cake, for three days. Then I sat in meetings for two days and ate snacks and drank chai and coke. Then I ended the week with two Cinnabon rolls. Last night I was looking at my stomach in the mirror and realized I can't do that anymore. Even though I did the workout, I still ate horribly and it shows. I also felt it, meaning that during the workouts I had no energy. Lesson learned. I will do week 9 over again and hope for better decision making on my eating.

Shorts

Delhi is changing. When we first came to India in 2001, I wore the typical Indian clothes, the sarwar kameez. So did everyone else. I wore it to be sensitive to the culture. I still have some sarwars, but I don't wear them often. I only wear them when I go to places that haven't modernized. I have a few friends who live places like that.

Our old neighborhood knew me as the gym owner and I wore workout clothes a lot. I was coming and going to the gym. I got comfortable wearing t-shirts and sweats (which is my Oregon choice of wear). But the neighborhood was still on the verge of changing from the old way to the new way. You would see a few young college girls wearing western clothes and it was a shock to see a girl in shorts or a dress.

Our new neighborhood is more modern. I would say it is less muslim, which may go hand in hand. Anyway, last night I saw two ladies wearing shorts. And one was a pair of short shorts. Both had been out exercising. But it is still shocking and amazing. So now I feel I have the freedom to wear my long shorts that go below my knees.

As a city changes it brings a lot of growing pains. One such growing pain with shorts is that men are still seeing skin as a sexual excitement. I don't know if women are wearing shorts or dresses as a turn on for men, or if it is comfort. When a lady walks by wearing shorts, the men turn their heads and stare. I'm not sure that added attention is good. And I am still trying to figure out if my long shorts are okay or if I am an old woman who should wear the old clothes.

Shopping

I am probably one of the worst shoppers. My cupboards are bare, proof that I don't do shopping. Well, not completely bare. There is oatmeal, chocolate milk powder, some ramen noodles and thai sauce.

I just came back from the market to buy some food for lunch. The problem is that because of the Common Wealth Games, the stores haven't been getting all their stock. Ramen noodles is one of the things that they haven't been getting. I was planning to make that for lunch, since I already had one packet at home. So instead, I bought some eggs, some chips and candles. Not sure what I will make with them yet.

Plastic shopping bags are now banned in Delhi. If you don't bring your own bag to the store, you may end up having to carry your items. I didn't bring my bag today, but had my big purse. So I had to put my items in my purse. For the walk home, I chose to carry the eggs. Eggs here come in plastic bags. You tell the shop keeper (or his son) how many eggs you want and he puts them in a small plastic bag (I guess those aren't banned).

As a reward for a successful shopping trip, I bought myself a coke. Here's to another successful day tomorrow when hopefully they will have the noodles.

Polish

A few days ago I painted my toenails. I have some polish that I got in Thailand. It is a silvery blue color. The next day my toenails were a shiny pink color. Weird. SO I am today trying another coat of it today and we shall see what happens. Maybe it is a mood polish that changes for whatever mood I am in. What a grand mystery.

earphones

There are a few things that Steve buys a lot of. Shoes, shirts, and earphones for his ipod. Right now, sitting on the shoe rack by the front door, are 4 pairs of tennis shoes. He has so many shirts that there isn't enough room in his small (very small) closet. But the earphones are what could drive him crazy.

Steve has invested in some good quality earphones. I got a little upset that he would spend, what to me is a lot of money, on earphones. They break all the time. But Steve likes comfort, so when he hears of good sound with great comfort, he wants them. So when we were in America he bought some nice earphones. That was less than three months ago. They have now been broken for about a month. He is back to using the old Walkman style headset with added cushion from a handkerchief he wrapped around the ear piece.

He has tried the kind of earphones that you stick farther in your ear, then the kind that are soft and cushy that go around your ear. There is the kind that hook over your ear, or the kind that comes with the ipod that just sits in your ear. Nothing is perfect and nothing seems to last long. In the end, earphones are just plain earitating.

Hair Cut

Today I walked into our bathroom and noticed some strands of hair in the sink, like someone trimmed their hair. The only problem was that they were black hairs and our family doesn't have long black hair. Hmmmm. This doesn't sound good. But I figured out what happened when I noticed more clumps of hair on the ground and saw our hair cutting scissors by the sink.

We had a friend visiting. She is only 6. She has dark hair. So I brought the clumps of hair out to see if she knew where they came from. She said she didn't. She didn't know whose they were. She said she didn't cut her hair, so then I was left baffled. But not all six year olds tell the truth when they do something that they aren't suppose to do. So I asked her to show me where she cut. Sure enough, it was right in front. I thought that if it wasn't obvious that I would just let it slide. But if her parents were to comb her hair for her, they would notice right away.

She asked me not to tell her parents. I told her that I would have to. She begged me. She said that she would get in trouble. So I asked her why she did it. But she didn't know the answer to that. I felt bad that we left the scissors out to tempt her like that, so I tried to think of a solution. I decided that we would just tape the hair back on her head. I had invisible tape, so I thought that would work. I wrapped tape around the strands and then taped it to the cut area. It looked good. I told my friend that I wouldn't tell her parents.

So I just took her home. I thought maybe her parents didn't notice. But her dad asked, "What's in your hair?" At that point I decided to leave. So not sure if they figured out what happened or not. Maybe she came up with a good story.

Food

A wise man once said, "Church is not to feed you, but to make you feel hungry." I agree. We should not be going to church starving for a spiritual feast, but instead, when we walk away from being in church we should be more equipped to feed ourselves.

Now, I for one am always walking away from church hungry. It happens to be at the noon hour so I am anxious for lunch. This week there is a lunch at church. So this will be an exception to the rule. I will leave church full.

Homeschool

This is my second year of teaching Micah at home. I would be the first to tell you that I am not a great teacher. Today is one of those days that makes me feel sorry for his lack of education. I'm doing the work of teaching, but it seems like I am also doing the school work for him. He still doesn't know how to find the answers in the text very well, and I lose patience and tell him too much. Well, at least one of us is getting edurcated.

A rescue

NEW DELHI: Two women, including a call-centre employee from Bangalore, were rescued by Delhi Police from GB Road in central Delhi late on Tuesday night. A visitor to the brothel had informed police about the plight of the two girls who were forced into prostitution two months ago. The victims, aged 20 and 25, have been sent to Nari Niketan after their statements were recorded.

Police also arrested the brothel owner, Sharda (28). According to police, the 20-year-old call centre employee met an auto driver, Babu Lal, in Bangalore. He lured her to come to Delhi on the pretext of a better call centre job two months ago. Lal then sold her off to Sharda. The other victim, a mother of two, was also brought by Lal on the pretext of getting a job and sold off at the same brothel one month ago. The two women recently told one of their clients about their plight and asked him to inform the cops.

"A raid was conducted and the two women were rescued,'' said a senior police officer. A case of kidnapping, rape, wrongful confinement and immoral trafficking was registered against the brothel owner. A hunt has been launched to nab Lal.


Read more: BPO girl from Bangalore rescued from brothel - The Times of India http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/delhi/BPO-girl-from-Bangalore-rescued-from-brothel/articleshow/6515521.cms#ixzz10beersXn

2nd Bus

Today I rode the bus by myself!!! I didn't think I could do it, but I did.

To get to the right bus, I have to cross the busy street. I now understand why Indians don't look when they cross the street. It is too scary. I saw my chance to cross the 4+ lanes of traffic and went for it. About half way across, the cars seemed to be coming faster, so I just looked ahead and ran. I didn't want to look at the cars. I seriously thought, "I may get hit by a car." But I didn't. Then I had to cross the next side. But there was a good size gap and I made it. I walked to the bus stand and waited for a bus with a familiar number to stop. None of the buses were stopping though. I guess that if you want on you have to wave the bus down. So I finally waved my hand and a bus stopped.

So the bus I got on was one of the new buses. It is a nice, clean bus. I made my way to the front of the bus and stood by the driver. I asked if it was going to the neighborhood I wanted and he answered something I couldn't quite understand. So I decided the best thing to do would be to stand by the door. The weird thing is that no one was collecting money on this bus. There was no ticket collector guy. I kept expecting a guy to come collect my money, but they didn't. I at one point thought one of the other passengers was the money collector and said, "Nizamuddin??" Like, that is where I am going so how much do I pay. But he just said that the bus is going straight up this road, and he got off at the next stop.

So we came to a big intersection and the bus driver told me to get off and walk across the intersection. I was like, "Huh?" But he then said that he was turning and I wanted to go straight. So I got off and walked across the big intersection. Of course when I walked around a car, the light turned green and they honked at me and started going. I made it safely across the intersection and happily got an auto rickshaw. Enough bus for one day.

I had a great visit with some friends. Then we went to another lady's house and had more snacks and coffee. It was so nice to see the ladies again. I miss them and it is sweet to know that they miss me too.

I made it home in time to see some fireflies outside our house. We never even knew that there were fireflies here. How fun. The bats were out eating them so we didn't get to see them for long.

P90X week 6

My weeks of doing the P90X seem to be longer than an actual week. Maybe more like the week that God created the world. Was it really 6 days???? So anyway, not to get side-tracked on that controversy when I have my own controversy to deal with. What if I don't do 6 days in a row of the P90X? Is it still week 6? How long do I have to do week six?

No matter what week I am on, I can tell you that I am beginning to see results. Both Steve and I are very thrilled with the changes we see. Steve, being a guy, seems to have a flatter stomach faster than I do. But I am building muscle and have more stamina. I'm still not ready for my "after" pictures, but I feel confident that by 90 days (or the end of my weeks) that I will be proud to show the difference.

I bet you can't wait.

Bus Ride

Yesterday, Steve and I went on a city bus. I have only been on a handful of buses here, so it is always a bit scary for me. I watch buses all the time and it seems they don't always stop completely for people to get on and off. They also look very crowded, with bodies hanging off the outside of a bus. So my fears are that I will have to jump off a moving bus or that I won't be able to get to the exit when my stop comes. Well this ride was good. Steve and I got on a completely stopped bus. We had to stand near the front because it was so crowded. I was standing against the wheel-well and Steve was my shield. People around us were polite, not squishing into us. No one touched me. No shoving. Some people tried to make sure we knew where our stop was by asking us where we were going and letting us know when it was the next one. When we came to our stop, the bus driver came to a complete stop and waited for us to get off before he started zooming off again. Actually, he stopped completely at each stop. No one had to run to get on. So for a fraction of the price of an auto rickshaw, we got home. No arguing over the price. I might not be ready to ride the bus alone, but with Steve it is a great option.

Imagine

Imagine that you have a precious 10 year old daughter. She loves to dance in the rain, play on a swing, sing songs in the car. She brightens your day. Now imagine that she is missing. She never came home from school one day. You waited for her with a snack, but she didn't come. Imagine your panic. You call the school, you call all her friends. Your mind thinks the worst. You pray. You call the police who take forever in coming. What would you do?

Now imagine that she has been missing for two weeks. The police come to talk to you at your house where you have been waiting by the phone for any good word. The police tell you that they think they know where your daughter is. They have a source that thinks they saw her in a brothel in another town. Imagine your horror at hearing this. Your precious, innocent little daughter is being forced to do horrible things with men. The police then tell you that it will be another couple of days before they can arrange for a rescue of her. What would you do?

Imagine that you are the father. You find out where this brothel is. Would you wait the couple of days that the police said it would take? Would you go there yourself to rescue your baby? Imagine pretending to be a customer so that you could see if it is your daughter. The brothel owner brings out a young girl, but it is not your daughter. Your heart sinks. You wanted to find your little girl so desperately. Now you see another sweet little girl about her age who is standing in front of you. You see the fear in her eyes. Could you leave without her?

Imagine that as you sit there, staring at this little girl, you hear a scream in another room. You know that it is your daughter's voice. The brothel owner tells you that it is just another customer enjoying his time. Would you not at that time do everything within you to get your daughter? Would you break down the walls? Would you hurt those who have hurt your daughter? Could you leave without her?

Every day there are little girls who get taken and forced into prostitution. What will you do?

Bedspread

When we moved into our new house, I found a bedspread in our storage that belonged to someone who left India and left their stuff with us. So I put it on the bed and loved it. I also had some curtains that kind of matched. So for once, I had a bedroom that looked a little stylish. Cute.

Steve really likes to have a certain feel to his bedspreads. He goes through a lot of bedspreads because they aren't the right weight. Well apparently this new bedspread does not pass the Steve test. So he got out our old bedspread. I refuse to use the old one because it is not pretty. So now he sleeps under his and I sleep under mine.

Last night when he got his bedspread out it kind of made me sad. I was enjoying the look of the room with the new one. I think that comfort should come before style so I shouldn't be sad. I totally dress for comfort and not style, so why can't I let Steve have a bedspread that is comfortable.

In the end I thought that it will take away a lot of the frustration of curtain shopping. I have been trying to match the floor color of our dining room, but I'm not having any luck. So now I will just go for any old color, knowing that style doesn't matter. I just want to block out the sun. So now we have some curtains up in the dining room and they don't match the floor. The only problem is that Steve doesn't like the way they slide on the curtain rod. Jeesh!

Train of Thought

It is interesting (to me anyway) how a person ends up at certain destinations in their thoughts. I'm sure that everyone takes a train of thought to their destination. I often like to know how their thoughts went from one point to another. With my sister, we often tell each other how the train journey went. Sometimes I think I end up at the funny farm. But it is only for a visit.

Like today for instance. I woke up thinking about what I was going to do during the day. Pretty normal thought. So I got on the train of "what will I do today." I thought, "I would like to work out." That was all the fuel my train needed to go.

This is how the train went. "I will do the Kenpo X workout. That one is hard. I will drink a protein shake afterwards. Satoshi needs protein. My shake is made of soy. I wonder if the tofu people make soy milk. I wonder how much protein is in soy. Peanut butter is a good source of protein. Hiroko could make a peanut butter shake for Satoshi. But peanut butter would just sink if it was just mixed with milk. It needs to be ice cream. But that is fattening. It would be fine for Satoshi but not for me. Eggs are a good source of protein. I could be like Rocky and drink raw eggs. Eggs are slimy. But real eggnog doesn't seem too slimy. It still seems gross. Fake eggnog is good. I wonder if that would be a good source of protein. Too bad it is only sold at Christmas. I wonder why it is only sold at Christmas. What other things are only sold at Christmas. Candy canes. I don't think people would buy candy canes. Or turkey. You can buy turkey all year. I wonder if a grocery store sold eggnog if people would buy it. If there was only one store that sold eggnog, would they increase their customers. Would people come for eggnog and buy other stuff. If I had a grocery store, I would sell eggnog all year long."

So now you know how the mind of Leslie works. Is it similar to yours?

Gassy

I have gas. Not the kind that makes noise out of your body, but the kind that we cook on in the kitchen. We finally got our gas hooked up yesterday. So I woke up this morning ready to make chai but I can't find my chai strainer thingy.

A sad thing about having gas is that now we don't have the excuse to not cook. We have eaten with our friends for every meal for the last ten days. We have had some great food. Japanese Curry, Eggplant Parmesan, Spaghetti, Indian food, and on and on it goes. Now we are going to be on our own. I envision cereal, fried eggs, and maybe some toast for each meal. I can't even invite our friends over for that.

Maybe I should just secretly unhook the gas and pretend it isn't working.

Rain

It is the rainy season here in India and it is living up to it. It is raining now and we are hoping to go to church. The problem with the rain here is that it floods the roads for about an hour. So if the rain doesn't stop, we run the risk of getting stuck on the road somewhere, or having it take an hour to drive to church.

I am thankful for the rain. It really cools down the temperature.

A Beautiful Mosiac

I have been drawn to mosaics for the last couple of years. I even tried to make one with broken plates, but didn't get past breaking the plates. I think you really need fine china to make it. I also broke some glasses that I found at Goodwill. It was fun to break it, but the picture of the mosaic in my mind was so beautiful that the bag of broken glass was more of a sign of failure.

Yesterday I was thinking again about a mosaic. What I pictured was God giving us beautiful gifts of glass. Different colors. These gifts are my plans and dreams. Many times the plans and dreams I have had have been broken by myself or others or just life. I end up with a bag of broken glass. I can either hold on to my bag of glass, which leads to bitterness, or I can give it back to God.

Romans 8 says "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose."

God takes all my broken glass and He is making something beautiful of my life. I don't see it all yet, but in faith I know it is true.

Travels

We flew out of LAX yesterday to fly to Delhi. I had planned to have my last Dr. Pepper in the airport while we waited for our flight. Unfortunately, there was no Dr. Pepper in the International section of LAX. I was very disappointed. I drank a Coke, but did not enjoy it. Plus, the sandwiches were SO EXPENSIVE that I couldn't bring myself to buy one. So I only had peanuts for lunch.

I think LAX is the most unfriendly airport for international travel. First of all, you have to pay for the luggage carts. It was $4.00 for each cart and we needed two. I have never been at an international airport that charged for the carts. Maybe I need to just go to more airports.

After arriving in Delhi we chose the slowest line for immigrations. The guy working the counter helped 5 people when the one next to us helped 20. By the time we made it through, two full airplanes of people had gone through all the other lines. We were some of the last ones through. But we still waited for our bags.

On the way to our friends' home, by taxi at 3AM, Micah commented about the smelly Delhi air. He said, "Smell the air. This is the air I was made to breathe." We are all happy to be back here, but Micah is for sure the most.

Texting while Driving

I really hate the fact that my sis in-law texts while she drives. I don't know what will get her to stop that isn't a tragedy. Today, while she was driving over here, she kept texting her mom. Her mom kept texting back. Finally I said, "So she must be texting while she is driving." Her mom would like to think that she is only doing it at red-lights, but we know that is not the case. So her mom said, "So maybe I should quit texting her so she won't reply." Yes, good idea.

When my sis in-law arrived she wanted to show us the cute picture on her phone that she took of her baby. He was sleeping in the car on the way here and she thought he looked really cute so she took his picture. Then she says, "I almost got in a wreck taking these." Yep, she was taking a photo of him while she was driving.

I think she needs to get a ticket. She doesn't have the money to pay for it. I know it sounds mean of me to wish that upon her, but I think if she felt it in her wallet, maybe she would think twice. And it may save her life.

Daredevil

I did something that I have never done before. For most people it wouldn't be a big deal. But for me, I have lived 39 years without ever feeling the need or desire to do this. It has been a fear of mine. I have a fear of water. I HATE, I said HATE, going under water. So this accomplishment involved my fear of water. I jumped off a diving-board into the deep end of a pool!

I can swim a bit. Enough not to drown right away anyway. But I don't swim with my head under the water. I can't breath under water. When I was little I took swimming lessons, that turned into torture sessions. Trying to float on my back and trusting the adult to not let go. Very bad lessons on trust. I think I remember a boy holding me under water when I was young. Maybe it is from that experience that I have chosen to hate going under water.

So on Friday I decided to conquer my fear. I got a new swimsuit for the occasion. I had Steve come out to be the lifeguard and Micah was there to be a witness to the event. I first dipped in the water to get use to the temperature, then I walked to the diving board. I stood on the end and prepared to take the plunge. But I couldn't. My fear was too strong. So I had to take baby-steps. I thought maybe I could just jump in from the edge of the pool, but even that was too risky for me. So I got in the deep end on the little ledge and just stepped off and went under the water. Too me it is not fun, at all. But I did it. I went under water. Then came the edge of the pool jump. I finally decided that I should jump with the inner-tube around me. I made it. And I didn't even go under water. But it gave me the feeling of jumping in. So then I was able to jump without the tube. I didn't die. Finally, I moved up to the diving board. I jumped! I went under! And I came back up!

I know it is a really simple thing for most people. Even Micah thought it was comical to watch. Especially me jumping with the tube around me. I don't ever need to do it again, but at least I know I can. I would much rather jump out of an airplane than to jump into a pool.

Day 4

Today I did day 4 of the P90X killer workout. It was an hour and a half of yoga. I did pretty good actually. Probably all that yoga I do in India. But it still burned and made me moan.

So when I weighed myself at the beginning of the workout (5 days ago) I weighed a certain amount. Today when I went to the doctor and they weighed me, I weighed a certain amount which was 2 pounds more than what I thought I was before. But of course it was a different scale. So who is right? And why haven't I lost a ton of weight on these torturous 4 days of exercising? I know, it is all the muscle I am making.

I love the P90X so far. I just hope I can continue it without flaking out or dying. I can't wait to see the after shots.

Cat Bath

Right now, my sis in-law is giving her cat a bath. Kona is a large yellow tabby. She has him in the pool and is cleaning him up. Surprisingly, he isn't too upset. Well, he seems to be done. He is trying to bite her and he is crying. All done. Who gives a cat a bath in the pool? Steve's family is just as weird as any other family.

B@rger K@ng

Yesterday we were on the road for 5 hours and had to eat lunch. So we ended up at a choice to either eat McD@nald's or B@rger K@ing. We chose B@urger K@ng. I wish we didn't. I had a W@pper and was so sorry I did. The rest of the day my mouth tasted like the chemicals that they try to burn it with. I wish I could have barfed it out. I vow never to eat there again this year.

weaning

It is finally time to start weaning Micah. He is going to be 10 in the Fall. I thought he would wean himself, but that doesn't seem to be working. So I am having to take matters into my own hands. The first step is limiting him to only mornings and nights. We have been doing this for a couple of weeks now and it is going okay. Sometimes he wants the mole during the day and I have to stop him. What? The mole? Oh, you thought I meant breast feeding. No! He was weaned a long time ago from that. But he loves to hold this mole on my neck. It started back when he was a baby and I was nursing him. I guess the mole was something to look at and eventually something to hold. It gave him comfort. When he got older he would run to me whenever he needed a little bit of comfort and he would just give the mole a squeeze. Weird, I know.

Well I thought he would grow out of it in a year or two, but he hasn't. I have been slow at weaning him because I kind of enjoy the closeness. I love feeling his sweet fingers on my neck. But it probably isn't a good idea to let him continue into adulthood.

So we are in the weaning process. If you see Micah looking longingly at my neck, you now know why. It is hard for him, especially now that he is sick with Tonsillitis. He wants to snuggle more and be close. But I am sticking to my guns and not letting him hold the mole. Soon we will stop the morning mole hold time and then the night time. I just hope we always remain snuggly.

Doughnuts

I read a story with Micah today about Homer who ran a doughnut machine that he couldn't turn off. It made thousands of doughnuts. There was a missing diamond bracelet in one of the doughnuts. So they sold the doughnuts to people who wanted to find the bracelet to win the reward. The whole thing made me hungry for a doughnut.

Luckily Steve called and he was stopping at the grocery store. He wanted to know if I needed anything. I told him I didn't need anything. He then was smart enough to ask if I wanted anything. And I did. I wanted a doughnut. Just one doughnut. I didn't want a lot of doughnuts because I knew I would be tempted.

Steve came home with a box of doughnuts because they didn't sell a single old fashion doughnut, which is what I like. So now I am stuck. I am thankful that he bought the doughnuts for me, but I am bummed that I have all these doughnuts looking at me.

Fruit of my labor

I just got back from the gym. I went with my mom. I can't remember the last time I went to a gym. It must be when Fitness Circle was open. So three years ago.

I have been running for a month or so now. I run on a treadmill or on the street for 10 minutes or so. I run almost daily. I thought it would help me lose weight. But apparently I am wrong. I weighed myself at the gym today and I have gained weight. So what is the purpose to all my running.

I ate a doughnut this morning.

Fantastic?

We watched Fantastic Mr. Fox last night. It was not fantastic. In fact, it was boring. Very slow and not very funny. And today I watched Alvin and the Chipmunks, the Squequel. Not as good as the first one.

Church

We usually go to church on Sunday. While in America we are trying to find a "home" church. It is hard to have a home church when you are only around for a couple of months, every other year. But such is the life that we lead. This morning we went to the church that we hope to consider our home. It is the church that my parents go to. There are maybe 100 people on a good week. But I like small churches. You usually can know everyone and everyone knows you. It may not have all the programs and great sound systems, but it is full of love and care. And that is what we are looking for.

We have visited a lot of friends during our three month tour of America. Several themes have struck me. The first is that I am hearing more and more about people I know who have been divorced twice. The second is that it seems more friends are not going to church who use to. Both make me sad.

I totally understand that church can become just a routine and boring. I get bored at times too. And I understand wanting a day off. I don't think a person "needs" to go to church, but I think that it is very good for them. But I think my biggest reason for going to church is for my child. I want it to be a habit for him. I want church to be normal. And I want him to get to know the people at church and to have them be a part of his life. I want him to learn from other people, to see Christian families, to hear stories or messages. I want him to sing the songs and have them get stuck in his mind.

I think church is a good thing. We, Christians mostly, have a bad habit of picking out all the bad things in a church. Instead we should look for all the good things. Who cares if the worship leader is a bit odd, or the pastor doesn't always have the most exciting messages. Are you hearing the Word of God? Are you meeting others who you can encourage or encourage you? That's about it. And then, get involved. Help out with something or lead something. If you find areas that are lacking in your church, maybe God is calling you to help make a change.

So after all my admonishing to get involved in church, I am ready to leave America to go back to India. I can't really get involved here on a regular basis, but I can in India. So my goal for this next year is to teach a Sunday School class. The last class I taught was for 2 year olds and I think they taught me more than I taught them. Blowing bubbles was the biggest lesson.

New Glasses

I went to the eye doctor today to get new glasses. You see, a few weeks ago I went to the DMV to get my Washington drivers license and I couldn't see some of the letters in the eye test. So I thought I better go see if I had a brain tumor. I don't have a tumor, but I do need to wear glasses while I am driving. Steve doesn't think I look cool when I wear my sunglasses over my seeing glasses, so I decided to get prescription sunglasses. I didn't realize that glasses cost so much. My two pair of glasses cost me just a bit over $300. Jeesh! The frames were $169. and $69. Why? I guess because they can. Well I guess it is all worth being able to see.

Phone Phobia

Hello. My name is Leslie and I have phone phobia. I looked online and found out that I am not the only person with this phobia and there are others who are much worse off than I am. That makes me feel better. Doesn't help me make a phone call, but it does help me realize that I am not alone. This phobia falls under the list of social anxiety disorders. I don't mind answering the phone, but I hate to have to make a phone call.

Today I am suppose to make two phone calls. I should have made them long before today, but my anxiety gets in the way with that. We want to visit a few people and so I need to set up a time to see them. It is already 11:00am and I haven't done it yet. Well, actually, I just made one phone call and it went fine. But I am having trouble getting myself around to making the other one. I read a few websites on phone phobia and they had some suggestions on what to do to help yourself make a phone call. None of it helped. I just finally did it.

I have had this phobia for as long as I can remember. I fear disturbing people. I think that I will be calling at a bad time. So I NEVER call before or after 9 o'clock. I don't call during dinner time if I can help it. And then there is nap time too.

There are a few people that I can call without much difficulty. My parents and my sister.

I love leaving messages on answering machines of people I know well. I would so much more prefer to leave a message than to get a person on the phone. I love to leave long messages that I think are funny. I hate getting cut off by machines that only give you 10 seconds to leave a message. I usually call back and continue my message.

So there you go. One more interesting fact to know about me. And that is also why you will never get a call from me. It's not that I'm not wanting to talk to you, it is just an anxiety trip for me. So call me.

Fireworks

Two nights ago (yes, not the 4th of July) we went to a rodeo and watched the fireworks at the end. The rodeo was fun, but mostly we went so that we could see the fireworks. I wanted Micah to experience the 4th of July fireworks this year since we are in the States.

A couple of years ago we went to the 4th of July celebration at the American Embassy in Delhi. We try to go each year. It usually has hamburgers and hotdogs and some fun activities. The only bummer is that it is in the Delhi heat. So you walk around sweating, just to get a burger. They end the night with fireworks. Well that year there was a fireworks accident. All the fireworks went off at once and they didn't go higher than the trees, so we couldn't really see them. They were set off on the other side of the trees from us. So that was a bummer. I hope no one was hurt.

So this year, someone won free tickets to the rodeo and gave it to us, and it just so happened to have fireworks. So we went for it. I wore my hair in pigtails to try to look country. We had Micah wear a plaid shirt. Too bad we didn't have a cowboy hat. We figured that the traffic would be better than the actual 4th of July. One thing I can't stand anymore is crowds. I get overwhelmed with people. Weird, I know, coming from India.

As we were watching the fireworks I couldn't help but think of Christ's return. Won't it be awesome to see Christ return in the sky one day? I mean, when you see fireworks, it seems like they are falling towards you, but when Christ returns he will really be coming to us. I can't wait. Maybe there will be fireworks too, but I imagine they will be much better.

Feast or Fast

I started reading a new book today about spiritual disciplines. This has been a subject that I keep getting reminded about. So I finally decided to try something. I decided to fast. What should I fast from? Well I was really desiring to have a Dr. Pepper, so I decided to try to fast from that. I had thought of it lots of times before, so today turned out to be the day. It is now 4:30 and I have made it so far so good. Then Steve's mom walked in the door and said, "I bought you something." And she held up a six pack of Dr. Pepper. I know I don't have to drink it today, but it sure is tempting me. I tell myself that I should drink it to be polite. Or that I fasted long enough. I could just make it a half day fast. Blah blah blah. My mind is amazing. It knows all the tricks in the book. So I don't know if I will make it or not, but I am working on controlling my will and my desires. It is hard to focus on prayer when my mind is wandering towards Dr. Pepper.

Grandpa

My grandpa will be 93 years old next month. One thing that I like about being in America is that I get to see him. He still makes me smile. Now he is in an assisted living home. My mom works at the home a couple of days out of the month. But she visits him regularly. She does his laundry, shopping, doctor's appointments, etc. She and my dad have done so much for my grandpa. What a great example of honoring your parents.

My mom and I visited grandpa yesterday. He usually has a puzzle on the table that he works on for a little bit each day. I put a few pieces in. And he always tells me to get in the second drawer down and get a breakfast bar. He gets one or two a day and never eats them. So he saves them to give to his visitors. So grandpa was eating his lunch in his room while we visited and he wanted me to eat a breakfast bar. And he wanted me to take another one for later. Then he said, "Take two. You don't want that one to get lonely."

So we were talking about bananas. He gets a banana or two every day. He tells the nurse that his banana will be lonely unless he has another one. So some of the nurses bring two bananas automatically now. Then he said, "I don't really like bananas." I thought that was really funny. I think he is trying to get his money's worth out of the home. Or maybe he just wants to give them all to my mom as a way to pay her for her kindness. When I am 93 years old I hope I am just like him.

Half Way

Yesterday we were picking up some home school materials for Micah's 5th grade year. For some reason I started counting how many years of school he has left. Then it hit me. He only has 8 years left of school which means he could move out then, which means we are half way through our time with him at home. OH MY WORD! It makes me want to hold him tight. Maybe I will hold him back a year or two in school so I will have him with me longer.

The Runner

Yesterday I ran on the treadmill for a record time of 12 minutes. Yes, that is right, minutes not miles. This may seem pretty pathetic if you keep in mind my profession as a personal trainer and a gym owner. I taught aerobics for the past few years too. So why is it that I can only run 12 minutes? The answer is that it is boring. I don't quit because I am dying (although I am at times), I quit because I am just bored. Maybe if I had a t.v. to watch I would be able to run for hours. But I don't. I have a radio station that has way too many commercials and not interesting talk, so I get bored. But I am still very proud of my 12 minutes.

Thankful for Steve

As we are almost to Father's Day, I want to take a moment to tell you how great Steve is. He is so gentle and patient with Micah. He takes him out to do fun stuff together. Steve has been a great example of reading his Bible and praying. He buys different Bibles for Micah, hoping to find one that Micah enjoys reading. He buys clothes for Micah too. And Steve is a big softy. Whenever they go shopping together, Micah always comes home with a treat. You are the best, Steve!

The Christmas Trip

When I was young, our family would drive 8 hours to my grandparents home for Christmas. One cold Christmas trip, we had no heat in our van. It was a camping van, which means it only had the two front seats and then a bed in the back. We would put in two lawn-chairs for my sister and I to sit on or one of us would sit on the engine cover in the front, middle section of the van.

Well this trip was through the snow and ice of the Gorge area. We always left at o-dark-thirty so we could get there early. Since we had no heat, my mom, sister and I got to snuggle together on the bed with our warmest sleeping bags. My dad wore his orange snowmobile suit as he drove.

And Mom and Dad, you continue to wonder why I think our lives are like the book Glass Castle.

Available on Netflix

Ishaa Ishaan is an 8 year old whose world is filled with wonders that no one else seems to appreciate; colors, fish, dogs, and kites are just not important in the world of adults, who are much more interested in things like homework, grades and neatness. Ishaa just cannot seem to get anything right in class. When he gets into far more trouble than his parents can handle, he is packed off to a boarding school to be disciplined. Things are no different at hsi new school, and Ishaa has to contend with the added trauma of separation from his family. A new art teacher infects the students with joy and optimism and breaks all the rules of how things are done by asking them to think, dream and imagine. All the children respond with enthusiasm except Ishaa. The teacher soon realizes that Ishaa is unhappy and sets out to discover why. With time, patience and care, he ultimately helps Ishaa find himself.

Death

Last night we watched the movie "Faith Like Potatoes". In the movie, a lady dies and God brought her back from the dead. Also in the movie a little boy dies. He is not brought back to life. I imagine that the death of a child is the WORST pain someone can go through. My friend, Christy, had a child that died. To watch her go through that pain was so sad. But she has done amazingly through it. The growth in her life, her faith, her whole attitude, was amazing.

I was reminded today of a death in my life. Nothing like having a child die, but still painful. I have not done well with it either. Two years before our gym was closed, it died in my heart. Because of some very hurtful things that people did and said, it killed my dreams. I know that the people didn't intend to have this effect on my life, so I don't hold anything against them. But I haven't figured out how to come back from the dead.

I realized that the hurt didn't just cause my dream to die, but it killed something else inside of me. I use to think that I could do anything I set my mind to do. Now I have no self-confidence. I doubt that I can do anything great at all. And I feel like my desires have all died.

Sounds like I need to go see that counselor again, doesn't it? Well don't worry, I will set up an appointment today. I guess if I were to look for a bright side in this post, it is that I have something to work on in my life to become whole again. Oh boy!

More Clothes

We just got back to a visit with Steve's grandparents. The same grandma that gave me her hand-me-down underwear a few years ago. She always seems to have a pile of clothes for me to go through. I usually take them all. Partly I take them because it is a way for her to feel good about giving things away, and partly because I like the clothes.

This time I got 4 shirts and one pant/shirt set. They are all nice quality. The only problem is that they really look great on an 82 year old and not so hot on a 39 year old.

We are missing India. Micah is missing it the most. Yesterday was he breaking point with being in America. And it didn't help that I showed him pictures of his friends.

We have been here in America for two months. I think these have been two of the rainiest months for Oregon/Washington in years. And in India it is the hottest summer since who knows how long. I am thankful to be here instead of there because of the heat. But we miss our friends and our life.

So last night, poor Micah cried for 45 minutes because he misses his friends. He is counting the days until we will get to be back there. The only problem is that we don't know for sure when that will day. So we prayed. We prayed that God would provide for all that we need to return.

Today Micah was able to Skype with his friends for a half hour. It was great to see and hear them. I am so thankful for modern technology. And mostly, I am thankful for friends.

Dan Rather: Pornland, Oregon: Child Prostitution in Portland

Dan Rather: Pornland, Oregon: Child Prostitution in Portland

The Glass Castle

I just finished reading this book, The Glass Castle. It is the memoir of a girl who grew up with eccentric parents. The family was quite poor but the parents seldom worked hard to change their situation. The father was an alcoholic and the mother was happy to live on the street. The children learned to survive their hardship by protecting themselves and rummaging for food in the school garbage.

I told my parents yesterday that the book reminded me of my life. Not that we were poor or that my parents were eccentric, but we did some strange things. Like when we went in the mountain to search for gold. On the drive, we would look for pop cans. When we spotted one, my dad would pull over and Kim and I would jump out to go get the cans. Somehow my dad made it fun. Or how about how my dad would take all of his old negatives and burn them to get silver out of the ashes. I thought we would make it big one day. Instead we just made a lot of smoke.

My mom would come along on all the outings and read her books. To get her attention we would yell, "Fire!" and then we were able to ask her a question. There was the time she didn't trust a rope bridge that we were about to drive over and she made us get out and walk across it so we wouldn't crash down while my dad drove over it. I got slivers because we had to rush out of the van without time to put my shoes on.

But all in all I had a great childhood. We all must learn from the family God gives us. I learned to be a little odd.

Cholesterol

Steve's cholesterol is high. When we got back to America we had some blood drawn for a blood test. Steve's cholesterol was high three years ago and he hasn't made any changes, so it was no surprise to see that it was still high. Even higher. So he is making a change. He is no longer putting sugar in his coffee. To me, that is stupid. I don't see that it will make a big difference. And I really don't want him to die, so I wish he would get on medication.

Steve asked a doctor friend if he should get some medicine to lower his cholesterol. But our friend said that usually you can lower it through exercise and some diet changes. So yesterday Steve bought some running shoes. He seems to do that every time we come to America.

It is really hard to make diet changes in our short time in America. We meet with friends over food, stay with moms that like to cook, and eat at fast food junk joints on our road trips. And Steve isn't really interested in making diet changes, besides the sugar in his coffee.


Yesterday we had a nice breakfast of eggs, sausage and toast (with butter). We eat lots of red meat for dinner. And then some McDonald's hamburgers for lunch. I wonder what we will do today to help lower the cholesterol intake?

Granny Underwaer

As I was putting on my clean underwear today, I was realizing how much I like them. They are not only granny underwear in that they are big and go up past my jeans, but they also came from Steve's grandma. They are probably the most expensive underwear that I will ever own and it is obvious that you really do get what you pay for. I have had them for three years and they are in much better condition than the Hanes I bought around the same time. I never have to pick and pull. And what is even funnier is that I am sure she wore them for some time before she passed them on to me. Now, I don't usually wear hand-me-down underwear, but, like I said, these are quality and I would never buy them for myself. So go Granny!

Making Money

As you may notice, I have an ad on my blog now. That is because I am told I can make a bunch of money from all the people that are interested in it and click on it. Now, I am not asking you to click on all the ads or anything, I am just testing this for a trial period to see what it is all about. Kind of like drugs.

Bushy Eyebrows

I have read, recently, that bushy eyebrows are the trend of the season. So now I am trying to be trendy and let my eyebrows grow in. I only started plucking or threading while I have been in India. I have always had naturally thick eyebrows. I suppose most people do, but then they start plucking and have permanent hair loss. Never fear, you can use Rogaine to fill in those eyebrows. So go ahead and embrace your full eyebrows! I know I will.

White Teeth

I want white teeth! I thought of this while I drank some Diet Coke. I don't think Diet Coke helps you get white teeth. What does?

A lot of people in america have white teeth, I have noticed. I mean seriously white teeth. I can't help staring at their teeth. Like a pastor we met last week. He had shiny white teeth. I tried to look at his wife's teeth to see if she also had the pearly white teeth, but I couldn't get close to her face at the moment I was thinking about it.

So do you have to go to a dentist to get that white of teeth? Or is it just some dental strip? And why are people so in to white teeth? Is it just a fad? Do people notice that my teeth aren't white? Should I do something drastic, like give up dark beverages? Does milk make white teeth? These are my questions.

Jealousy

I have had a hard time with jealousy lately. I mean, serious hard time. Yesterday I was even brought to tears by my jealousy. I tried to think of God and how he is a jealous God, but I couldn't quite bring my situation to a spiritual lesson.

You see, the thing I am jealous about is my son. Or maybe I should say, I am jealous for him. So maybe I could look at God's son and see how God was jealous of us not giving Jesus the respect that he deserved. Or even how (like the song says) God is jealous for me. Yeah, I like that. God is jealous for me the way I am jealous for my child. And I want everyone else to love my son like I do.

Micah is awesome! You should have seen his sweet face on the rides at Disneyland this week. He enjoyed it so much. I love it. He would get off Magic Mountain and say, "That was awesome!" It was all so much fun for him. His second favorite ride was Toad's Wild Ride. It is really a simple, no-nonsense ride, but he loved it. I wonder which face of mine that God enjoys? Could it be when I stop to smell the roses and smile.

Being here in California has been a bit rough at times for me. We have a new nephew (whom we all love). He is a year and a half. Well he is the center of the universe that use to be where Micah was. It hurts me to see all the attention on the little guy and for my dear, sweet son to be not so special. I know the family all loves Micah and yada yada yada, but come on, show him some special attention. Comments are made about how special the new guy is and I feel my momma's heart wanting to take my child away from it all. To shelter him from it.

I hope Micah knows how special he is to God. I know he knows that he is special to us, but more than that, I want Micah to know how insanely in love with him God is. To know that God is jealous for him. If Micah ever turns away from God that it will break His heart. When Micah chooses something else as more important than God, that it crushes Him.

And I want to know that God loves me like that too!

Free Tickets

So here I sit, drinking my Dr. Pepper, freezing in Southern California. My fingers are numb. I have a sweatshirt on. Oh, how I wish I had gloves.

Last night we were at Tony and Linda's (aka dad and mom) small group Bible study. I had brought a bunch of shawls from India to sell here in America and have found that small groups like this is a great place to sell them. So I told the group that they were just $5.00 each and the money is being used to pay for our Disneyland trip next week. I have sold them before and people really seem to like them.

One of the ladies said that she was taking her grandson to Disneyland next week. She said that a lady that she works for gives her free tickets. As we continued with the Bible study she asked me, "How many tickets do you need?" I told her it was just us three. So she said, "I can get you tickets." So she made a phone call and sure enough, she got us tickets. So next Tuesday we are going to Disneyland.

I am so thankful for these tickets. We have been looking for discounts for weeks. It is just so expensive. $72. per adult and $62. for Micah. SO now I can use the shawl money to buy us some food inside Disneyland and maybe even a gift for Micah from the over-priced gift store. Oh, I also gave the lady free shawls.

She was blessed to be able to help us out and felt that it was totally God who was able to use her to be a blessing to us. We are blessed that God sees the small things in our life and gives good gifts.

Pet Peeve

I was reminded of another of my many pet peeves while we were on the flight from LAX to Charlotte. I HATE it and it totally STRESSES me out when the plane is going through turbulence and they give the announcement to get in your seat, and then people get up to use the bathroom. Are they morons? Don't they know that we could drop a thousand feet and they will hit their head on the ceiling and die? And it always seems to be the old, feeble people who wobble to the bathroom, only then to be told by the flight attendant that they need to go back to their seat.

On this flight several people got up soon after the turbulence announcement and walked back to the toilet. We were in the last seat so we could hear the flight attendants telling them to go sit back down. People just kept getting up and coming. Finally they quit telling people to sit down and let them use it. It was still pretty bumpy but there was no stopping the people from coming. As each one came past us I couldn't help but mumble to Steve how stupid I thought they were. I would say things like, "Oh Grandma, sit down." or "These people are crazy!" I couldn't watch anymore.

I use to work for Delta and heard lots of stories about turbulence and injuries. I remember a lady died on one flight. I always wear my seat-belt now. And once, when I was in Africa, I got to ride in a small airplane that hit an air-pocket. We dropped several hundred feet in a second. The people in the back screamed. I actually felt safe in a small plane. But in a big plane I feel less in control. So my advice is to always wear the seat-belt and once you start hitting the bumps, stay in your seat.

The Party

Last night I went to Allison's (sis in-law) batchlorette party. It was at a mexican restaurant/bar. It was a very crowded place so we weren't able to get a big table all together. Allison and her girl friends were at one table and the old folks (me and others) were at our own table (feeling awkward).

Allison showed up at the place drunk already, from a bit too many drinks in the limo. I thought it would be embarrassing to be around your mother in-law to-be and your grandmother in-law to-be, but she didn't seem too worried about it. Allison wasn't a bad drunk really. She was a little loud, but not obnoxious.

I felt old. I had a new dress on, but I ended up looking like an old lady instead of a young thing. I had some nice shoes on too. But my purse, which looked fine at home, turned into an old lady purse. It was also cold out, so I had a shawl. I'm glad I had it but it just added to the old lady look.

I don't drink for two reasons. First, I am cheap. I don't want to waste money on expensive drinks. And second, I can't stand the taste of alcohol. I have tried to drink even a cooler, but the taste is just bad. I have an addictive nature so if I did like to drink I am sure I would need to really be careful. But I don't.

It is weird to hang out with the young girls who like the bar scene. Allison had to play silly games, like see if she could get a guy to buy her a drink. Or kiss a guy on the head. Or slap a guy's butt. To me, that isn't fun. I would much rather hang out with friends at a house, eating junk food, playing games, or watching a movie. Or how about just talking. I guess I am an old lady.

Under Stress

A few years ago we took a type of personality test that explains how you act under stress. Yesterday I was reminded of that test. I didn't realize so much that I am stressing out about moving and leaving for the States, but then I did something totally out of my normal character.

Steve, Micah and I were walking to get a rickshaw in our neighborhood, when a big vehicle, like an SUV, came down the street. The streets here are not made for big cars and it is just a recent phenomenom to have them. Well he came roaring down the street and honking at the car going too slow in front of him. That made me irritated so I turned and glared. We continued on.

Then we got to the front of our neighborhood and I hear the thing coming again. It roars around a corner and a taxi is turning so they come face to face with each other. From my perspective it seems the taxi had the right away, but the big guy wouldn't budge, so the taxi had to back up. But behind the taxi were more cars so it wasn't easy. Whereas the big guy could have backed up, no problem. Well something inside of me popped and I turned around and my hand shot up in the air. Luckily all my fingers went up instead of just the middle one. Then, out of my mouth came words that I couldn't stop in time. Thankfully only I heard them and not Steve or Micah. And it was then that I realized I knew the people in the big car.

I was shocked at myself. But thankfully the lady who owns the car wasn't in it. It was just the driver and the college aged son. So I called my friend and told her that her driver needs to drive better in the neighborhood. She thanked me for letting her know. I just hope they couldn't read my lips and were more focused on the taxi then the crazy white woman.

The Truth Hurts

At a wedding last year, I was mingling (something I am very awkward at) with the ladies and met a new lady who lived in Nizamuddin East (the neighborhood next to ours). We were talking about what we do and I mentioned "You know the gym in Nizamuddin West? That is my gym."

Sometimes things you say are misunderstood and sometimes Indians say rude things. I'm not sure if she thought I was saying that the gym is "mine" as in "I go to it." Or if she understood that I was saying that I am the owner of the gym. Anyway, she said, "Oh yes, I know the gym. I went there once but it wasn't very good."

I went ahead and told her that I own the gym, even though it was awkward. She didn't seem surprised or embarrassed. So I assume she was trying to be rude. I mean, even if it is true, you don't say some things.

missing

So to continue on with "house-help tales of today", let me tell you what she told me. Bimla was on the phone off and on all day today. I try not to listen, but she talks really loud. So after she got off the phone I asked if everything was okay. So she told me that her older son (13 years old) didn't pick-up the younger (3 and 5) kids from school so they were just wondering around outside. Their house was locked so the kids couldn't go inside. So they just were outside somewhere. So she was calling people to try to locate her kids.

Bimla lives in a village type setting. All the neighbors know each other. SO most likely her kids are fine. But then she told me that just yesterday a young child in her area went missing. She said a person took the child. So that is why she was nervous today about her kids.

If that was me I would find the quickest way home and look for my kids. She just kept working.

Glass

We are packing up our house, one cupboard at a time. Today was the cupboard with all the glass things. Pretty mugs, glasses, bowls, etc. I put them all on the coffee table so that Steve can pack them correctly. He said he wants to do it because he knows how to do it properly. So fine, I just got them out for him. Well Bimla, our house-helper, was just mopping the floor and she decided to move the coffee table. Do I need to tell you what happened?

Moral of the story is: If you have a house-helper and you have breakable things on the coffee table, you need to tell her not to move the coffee table. It may seem obvious, but tell her anyway.

Brick in the Face

Coming home from a nice lunch out with a friend, I had the horrible experience of watching some road-rage. Micah was with me in the car, which just made it all the more horrible.

A taxi driver made a u-turn into our side of the road. People don't give way to each other here, so a driver has to push his way into traffic if he ever wants to get anywhere. So the taxi was slowly easing his way into the traffic. A motorcycle decided he didn't want to give way, and the taxi probably assumed he would, so this caused a problem. Usually the bigger vehicle wins. Unfortunately for the motorcyclist and his passenger, there was a pile of bricks in the road, which already was making the traffic worst. But the taxi came out anyway and caused the motorcycle to slow down and move to the side by the bricks. He must have lost control on a brick and he spilled the bike. Both riders were fine, but upset. The taxi driver kind of stopped and looked back out the window. The motorcycle driver was upset and grabbed the first thing he saw, a brick, and charged towards the driver.

What we saw next was terrifying. The motorcycle guy went up to the window and poised his hand with the brick back in a "smashing your face" stance. Micah slumped down in his seat so as not to see the fight. I screamed, "Oh my word!" And then noticed the guy still held the brick. Thankfully he was just being typical. You see, it is typical of the Indian man (in Delhi any way), to come across very threatening. If two cars crash, the drivers will get out and puff their chests up. They yell at each other and look like they will punch the other, but seldom do they follow through. I have seen the same thing on some of those nature shows about ostriches.

My self-esteem boost

I led an aerobics class this morning after being away for 7 weeks. I am sure I will be sore later. One of the ladies, Shanaaz, told me that I look like I have lost weight. I'm sure I haven't since I only did aerobics 4 times in 7 weeks, but I told her thanks. I said, "I have probably gained weight and just look healthier (fatter). Maybe it looks good on me." She said, "No, it doesn't look good." I just smiled. Laughed inside.

This kind of thing use to really make me feel bad. She wasn't complimenting my weight loss, she was telling me that it looked bad. But I have been here long enough to have these comments not bother me. That is a good thing. What someone else thinks of me doesn't bother me.

At least not today!

Back to India

Today, Steve's 42nd birthday, Micah and I returned to India. We spent about 7 weeks in lovely Thailand, where the people are polite and quiet. The streets are clean and orderly. Now we are back in India. The airplane ride was enough to remind me of what I had missed. There were maybe 10 women on the plane full of men. I got a middle seat with a man who's elbows thought they were part of the middle seat also. The smell of b.o. permeated the plane as I walked to my seat. The man behind us belched loudly throughout the flight. People pressed the call button every 5 minutes.

It is dirty here. The sky is polluted. Our house feels dusty and dark. The street is full of rubbish. Drivers drive closer than they did when I left I think. And there is the beggar outside crying as he goes down the street outside our house. The fans make noise as they keep us cool. And our pillows seem old and gray.

Micah started to feel sick as we landed. By the time we were in the passport line he was feeling like he was going to lose it. By the time the passport agent had almost finished his passport and was about to begin mine, we needed to run to the bathroom. Once we got home he made several trips to the bathroom to get sick. Then he went to sleep. He semi woke up and came out and talked nonsense once and we thought he was delirious, but it turns out he was just sleeping.

It is good to be home. This is what home is. Being together in a place that is comfortable. And I can understand the language. The noises are familiar. The weather is nice. The birds are out. Even if it is dirtier than Thailand, it is still home.