Archive for June, 2008

Mountain Air

Well, the winds gave us a brief respite from the smoke yesterday, but today it all came back. And our windows were still open, so now it’s kind of stinky in here.


And a cheery news report.

We’re in the middle of a triangle of fires, and therefore not in danger of burning at the moment. Just walled in by the smoke. Pray that the lightning storms don’t come this weekend, or that they’re rainy. And pray for the extremely overworked firefighters. I don’t know how they keep it up.


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The End of the World!

I swear, sometimes I think we’re living in a sci-fi novel.

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Cough, Hack

We’re living in a smoke haze these days. Over 5,000 acres are burning in our neck of the woods. I wanted to take a picture of the brown sky and red sun last night, but we were out of the house with no camera.

Our town hasn’t been put on evacuation notice yet, but part of the county has. They’ve closed every route down the mountain except one, which heads east through Reno and Tahoe. That makes me nervous. I don’t want to be up here with no way down.

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Feeling Dapper

Jonah received a box of clothes from Thad today.

He says he’s going to get a job now. He and Daddy will be carpooling to work.

I guess the clothes make the man, after all.

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Not Such a Baby

Naiah Cadence is three today. I’m a little verklempt over how quickly she got there. Where were the terrible twos to make the time drag? Not that I’m complaining. But holy cow! I’m not ready for three.

We had no idea what kind of present to get for her. She isn’t stuck on any cartoon character or animal or theme in particular. When I asked what she wanted for her birthday, she said, “A CAKE!” And when Jonah asked her a few days later, she said, “YELLOW!” And when her sisters asked her, she said, “PURPLE!” So we did our best. I think she probably would have been happy with nothing but a yellow and purple cake.

So here are some pics from today. The goal was to keep it simple, and except for a brief thunderstorm that kept us inside for a bit, it ended up being pretty darn simple. Simple is good.

The birthday morning list (click to enlarge):

Naiah spent all day with me in the kitchen, which happens to be her favorite place.

The centerpiece she made:

Official Birthday Girl cupcake:

Nom, nom, nom. . .

Pink horsey! (Apparently we haven’t learned about unicorns as yet.)

Pretty shirt:

Mrs. Potato Head!

Party in the pool!

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Brownie Bowl

Who needs a dishwasher with this kid around?

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How it Happened

Today is our eighth wedding anniversary, which got me thinking about how all this craziness came to pass. So here is part the first of a long, odd story.

October, 1998

I did not want to go to Hong Kong.

When a woman I hardly knew called me into her office at CBU and said, “Rebecca, I think God wants you to go to Hong Kong for a semester,” I told her she was crazy. South America, sure. Africa, Australia, Europe, whatever. But I had been to Southeast Asia, and I knew it was not for me.

So I walked back to my dorm room and told my roommate I was going outside to pray, so that God could tell me not to go to China. (I promised the crazy woman I would at least do that much.)

Half an hour later I told my roommate I was going to China. And she laughed. She still thinks it’s terribly funny.

January, 1999

So I got onto a plane with my friend Cassandra from Mexico. Cassandra and I were together in the weirdness. We both spoke Spanish. We both spoke not a single word of Chinese. We both questioned God’s sense of humor.

I started to get a little giddy on the thirty hour flight. No one at our school had been able to tell us what to expect, because no one had done what we were doing before. The program at HKBU was new as well. So we were all going in blind. It was kind of exciting that way. We didn’t even know where to go once we landed.

Thankfully, the international program director was standing at the gate, smiling, when we arrived late the next night. He welcomed us and pointed out a row of chairs and told us we’d have to wait for a few more arrivals before heading home.

And sitting on that row of chairs was a big, floppy Texan football player, in a baggy sweatshirt and baggy jeans and glasses. But I didn’t see much of that at first, because he had a guitar.

At this point the giddiness of landing in a new city collided with the giddiness of finding a guitar, and more importantly, a guitar player. Either giddiness would have been enough to overcome my natural reticence and push me into hyper-friendly, stranger-accosting mode. But together, they sort of turned me into a valley girl idiot.

So I plopped down right next to him and said, “Oooh, you have a guitar! I’m going to like you!” and proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes interrogating him in the most obnoxious manner possible, all the while thinking, Oh, this poor Texas hick is going to get eaten alive out here.

He made sure not to sit next to me on the ride home.

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