Archive for June, 2010
Hello, this is Cristy.
Ummm, actually, I don’t. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.
No, I don’t know where she went.
Yah, well, join the club. I need her, too.
Naaaahh….I just eat chocolate chip cookies she baked last time she was here. And watch old TV reruns on my computer all day long. And shop for my sister’s wedding present.
Oh, thanks, well, actually the wedding was about a year ago.
No, no I still haven’t gotten them their gift.
No, haven’t finished those either.
Nope, haven’t gotten that done.
No, no, don’t think I got to that yet today.
Well, nice talking to you, too. Hey, call me back with WW’s number if you track her down. Or just tell her I need her. And that I’ll be watching DOC reruns.
As we speak (okay, as I type), Tim is washing up the dishes. This is reason number 4238 why I love being married to him. Just in case you were wondering.
One thing I’ve learned to love about living in Richmond: it is very centrally located.
Another thing: we have a guest bedroom.
Between the two, a third: company.
Love, love, love company.
Let me take you on a tour of our establishment. In case you happen to be passing through Richmond (it is very centrally located–you can pass through it on your way to almost anywhere, did I mention that?).
If you’re the first to reserve, you’ll be staying here (unless you are superceded by our parents):
This is a very comfortable place to stay. We know. We tried it out. Pillow top mattress courtesy of our pastor and his wife. Not to mention all the furniture. We have an extremely generous pastor.
The quilt is my favorite thing in the room, except for the wedding pictures and the tea sets. An Indonesian woman made it. Her family cut her off when she converted to Christianity. This is how she supports herself. Her work is incredible.
Let me know if you want one. They are extremely reasonably priced. Like $130.
The room comes with its own bathroom just down the hall. You only have to share if we are double booked.
(This is this week’s menu. Seeing as it’s a holiday weekend, it’s looking like a very good week for company. A college friend and her husband are flying in tomorrow from Flagstaff and staying until Sunday. Anna and Nathaniel will be here Saturday and Sunday. Tim’s parents might come Sunday and Monday. All of Tim’s local extended family is scheduled for supper on Thursday. Sunday afternoon is a church wide picnic. Wheeeeeeeeeeee!)
So, if you are passing through Richmond (or planning a trip here), I just want to say this: please come see us. We would love, love, love to have you!!
Huge news from the frontlines today: Blackberries are ripe!! I repeat, Blackberries are ripe!!
Tim and I went to check on ‘our patch’ (my dad discovered it last year near our old apartment) to see how much longer we’d have to wait to sink our teeth into that succulent, purple juiciness.
Apparently, tonight was not the night God picked to teach us patience.
Hello. I come to you today at 4:00 pm. We are having company tonight. And I don’t have plans for dinner.
The company is coming after dinner. I should clarify this.
I should also clarify that the reason I don’t have plans for dinner is that the thermometer on my wall reads 102.4F. Umm, yah. That rules out chili, doesn’t it? In fact, it rules out EVERYTHING even REMOTELY connected to a heat source. Unless that heat source happens to be a microwave.
One sister recommended this–it’s quick, easy, and she served it to her hubby last night with great success:
Pasta Carbonara Frittata
8 oz spaghetti
2 T olive oil
4 oz bacon (recipe calls for turkey bacon)
6 large eggs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
salt and pepper
Cook spaghetti, drain and toss with olive oil. Let cool. Cook bacon in skillet over medium high heat until crisp, 5-8 min. Drain on paper towels. Discard all but 1 T of fat in skillet. Preheat broiler to high. Whisk eggs, Parmesan, garlic, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/4 tsp pepper in a small bowl. Pour over spaghetti and toss to coat. Crumble bacon over spaghetti and mix well. Place skillet over medium-low heat; add spaghetti mixture, spreading evenly with a spatula. Cook until bottom is well-browned, about 8 minutes, sliding spatula under frittata occasionally to loosen. Place pan under broiler and cook until top is set, about 3 minutes. Cut frittata into wedges and serve. Serves 4 (magazine says at $1.52 per serving).
Another sister suggested homemade pizza with green peppers, onions, kielbasa, and pineapple. That’s what she’s fixing her husband.
I have yet to consult the third, but I’m sure she’s preparing something delectable for my brother.
Sorry, Tim. I think you lose on this one. All those things require a heat source other than a microwave.
Hmmm. I wonder how frittata would taste grilled on a sidewalk?
Okay, I just plugged in two ingredients to allrecipes.com (HOW did my grandmother survive without online cookbooks, I don’t even know): cooked rice (leftover from yesterday) and eggs (not leftover from yesterday). Here’s what I got:
Coconut Raisin Rice Pudding–um, not exactly what Tim will expect on his plate after a long day’s work at the office.
No Fuss Rice Pudding–well, I like the no fuss part. I like that alot. Can we keep that and, say, scratch the rice pudding?
Stuffed Cabbage–you know, I love stuffed cabbage. In March. When cabbage goes on sale for St. Patrick’s Day. And I actually have some in the fridge.
Fried Rice–hmm. hhhhhmmmmmm. HHHHHMMMMMMMM.
Fried Rice and Chicken–Folks…
In a large skillet, saute In the microwave, cook the chicken, carrots and celery until juices run clear vegetables are tender (chicken is already cooked); remove and keep warm. In the same skillet, scramble Add eggs over medium heat, breaking into small pieces, microwave some more. Stir in the chicken mixture, rice, soy sauce. Serve with sliced peaches, blueberries, apples, and iced cold freezing ice tea.
…we have a winner!
Finding time to read together is tough. In the few minutes between bleary eyes and breakfast, we’re lucky to fit in personal devotions. The window of time we have in the evenings is always over-booked: dinner, a walk, house projects, mail, e-mail…it doesn’t sound like much, but somehow it is. Before I blink, it’s past time to be in bed. Again. For the 8th night this week. Aaaaarghhh.
Of course, I know that the biggest reason we can’t find time to read is that we haven’t made the time. It’s something neither of us are proud of. Fiction in an ideal world….but hard fact in our real one. And it’s something that we’re working on. Have been for all our married life. One day, maybe we’ll have a regular, scheduled time for our reading. Until then, we’ll keep grabbing at the time we get, encouraging each other to prioritize, and thanking God for His patience and grace.
We did take a book on our trip(s). All told, we spent over 60 hours in the car last month. Believe me, in that length of time it is possible to talk about everything you ever wanted to talk about, hear every song on every radio station at least 3 times (even when your husband’s rental car comes with satellite radio), enjoy the scenery, and still have time left to twiddle your thumbs.
We did not spend even close to all 60 hours reading. For one, my voice can’t handle more than an hour or so at a time. Neither can Tim’s amazing attention span (it is NOT easy driving and following a biblical argument. I don’t know how he does it. But he does!) Also, I can only read on straight sections of interstate. This is partly due to my stomach (can’t handle the backroad curves) and partly due to my eyes (they are all about sight-seeing).
BUT we did get enough book time to be well on our way into Tell the Truth by Will Metzger. It’s a book on evangelism. I’d read it in college (my new theory is that my brain turned into a word processor in college as a matter of mere survival. This explains how I could read all that literature and retain almost nothing). Tim hadn’t.
Books on evangelism are very scary things. Because by the reading, one almost obligates oneself to the acting. Sharing the gospel should be a natural outworking of my faith. I know that. The fact that it isn’t is a bad sign…I know that, too. But how is one to take all this head knowledge of how things should and shouldn’t be and push it down into the heart? That is something I don’t know. And have been trying my whole life to learn.
How did I get here?
This post was supposed to be about Sarah.
Sarah was our waitress at Byram’s on Thursday night.
Rewind 3 weeks: I resolve to love people more (this is not something I’m good at) ((We are reading this book on evangelism (((connection!!))) and I am convicted in this area)). I tell Tim: I am going to try to remember peoples’ names (does this seem like a foolish beginning for love? To me, it is key. If I don’t even care enough about a fellow image-of-God to remember their name…I have failed before I’ve even begun). People like waitresses in restaurants. Grocery store clerks. Customer service telephone operators. Neighbors. Etc.
Back to Byram’s: I am ready to put this resolution into full practice. Our waitress introduces herself, and I tuck the name away in my little memory. I pull it out again at the first opportunity: “Sarah, can we get some butter for our rolls?” Sarah gives me a glance of appreciation. Tim looks impressed. I feel quite pleased. I’m almost sure Jesus is smiling. I am very nice to the waitress the whole rest of the evening. Tim gives her a generous tip. I glance at our receipt on the way out the door. It reads, in part: “Your server this evening was: MARY”.
That is the cold, hard truth. Her name was Mary. I made Sarah up. How loving.
Thankfully, this is also true: we are saved by grace through faith, not of ourselves or anything good we do but by a completely undeserved gift from God: His Son, Jesus Christ. How thankful I am that His love covers all my failures!
It is hot, hot, hot today. Heat index of 99 still at 5pm. Here’s one cool thing, though: the ‘weather station’ for our zipcode is located two doors down from us, so I figure it’s pretty accurate!
Tonight, Tim and I are going on a date! To the landfill. We had one minor calamity from all our travels (it could have been worse!): we forgot to bring our trash to the dump before we left. BUT we did remember to stick it in the trunk of our Toyota Camry! Which was parked out in the hot sun. For three weeks. While we were gone. When I say forget, I mean completely, utterly, totally forgot. Like so forgot that Tim drove the car to work every day last week. And came home every night reeking. And frustrated. And determined to give the car a good vacuuming. My helpful idea: maybe a bird somehow got trapped under the hood while we were gone. Neither of us thought to even check the trunk….until Tim and I trade cars so he won’t have to deal with the stench. And I toot on over to the grocery store. The very grocery store where the nice paper-or-plastic people take your cart full of groceries out to the car for you (it’s a Richmond thing). I open the trunk awkwardly with my key (there was a cobweb over the keyhole, eeewww), and there they were: two bulging black plastic masses of hot, rotting trash. The bagger has two bags in hand already, and is moving in for the trunk deposit. I stammer something about forgetting how full my trunk was (ha.ha.) and slammed the lid back shut. Bagger looks momentarily confused as I rush to open the back seat (of course, it was locked) ((I don’t usually leave my doors locked, because I don’t have keyless entry and I don’t keep any valuables in my car)) (((except, apparently, rotten trash))). Well, at least we aren’t responsible for a dead bird.
I’m trying to study through a book on evangelism and a book on prayer. Both are good. Both are much needed in my life. I’d much rather write my blog than read either one.
Better go finish supper.
Talk to you later!