Sunday's Child

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good, and gay.

It first appeared in 1838 in a book about the Traditions of Devonshire, by A. E. Bray.

My mom taught me this poem when I was a child. I liked that I was born on the day that had the most attributes, it made me feel special. I guess that your birthday falls on the same day of the week when it's fifty years later.

Stop on over and celebrate with me between 3-7 p.m. Bonfire in the backyard.

The Great Shuffle: An Unnecessarily Long Description of One Aspect of Resettling

I packed up my house all into my attic in the fall of 2007. But I was around for a few months before I left for Kenya so I was in and out of my attic a few times. Then I was home starting in the fall of 2008 for another 8 months and I was up there again often enough to know exactly where certain things I wanted to get at were. Just before I left in 2009 I had a small influx of items from my sister’s house in Washington because she had passed away and we had shipped several boxes of photos to her when Mom had passed away in 2005. Plus my attic gained some of her artwork and eventually some pottery. I was here again briefly in the fall of 2010 and grabbed a couple of items from the attic. For the most part, my carefully packed attic was only lightly touched and mostly memorized until this point.

But when I finally landed in the Twin Cities at the start of last winter -- I was in my attic often enough to start shuffling items around. I needed some things for living. I was moving in with some dear friends who provided a bed and dresser, but I needed a winter coat and some wall decor -- you get the picture. This is when the shuffle really started.

At the beginning of June I moved back into my own home! I was elated and didn’t waste a moment of unpacking all my furniture from the attic. I nearly filled up the house. How had I managed to contain all that is my little attic? I then arranged one corner of the attic with a bed and night stand. It’s very cosy there. But I left the attic for sleeping only and set about on a million little details around the house. The details are so minute I can’t even think now -- but they managed to drain my time over the last two months. I wanted to get everything just so for sharing the house with strangers.

All this is to say I have neglected my attic until now. As I was unpacking in June I noticed that I kept some things that were very odd -- telephones and cassette tapes -- I dubbed my attic a time capsule. Finally I have to deal with the time capsule because I need a place that doesn’t take up the dining table to work. I have school to do. I looked around the other day and I couldn’t see a single surface in the attic. I have two small work tables, a large wooden desk and a laptop table but nowhere I could safely set my little Mac.

This won't be easy. I call it the great shuffle because I will likely spend the entire winter shuffling piles around trying to figure out what to keep, what to chuck, where to store things and so on. There’s a whole wall of footlockers and boxes; more in the closet and crawl space that all need to be dealt with. There are 2 boxes under the desk and several works of art under one of the tables. Maybe in the spring I can have a big sale. Eventually I will have a room back, but in the meantime, I’ll just shuffle.

Back in School

Being back in the school is a good and right thing to be doing at this point. But at the same time feels funny. I have or I should say, had the potential to be one of those English nerds -- someone who went around correcting people’s grammar. If, at a young age, I had been at all pushed in that direction I would have been into reading and writing. It all comes fairly second nature to me. With my tendency towards perfectionism, I would have been a natural. Of course, I don’t have the personality of a librarian, so I’m sure it has all turned out for the best.

Regardless, I am thankful for a natural ability to “hear” the correct way to write a sentence under usual circumstances. I do a have bit of trouble in a few area but I’m learning tricks for remember grammatical rules.

So far, songs have been my best help. When I was studying for the grammar entrance exam for Northwestern I wrote out a little card with a chart for “lay” and “lie” and at the bottom I wrote, “Bob Dylan was wrong.” I had one of the real grammar nerds in the school’s learning center ask me what that meant. I explained,

“When Bob Dylan sings, ‘Lay, lady, lay. Lay upon a smoky brass bed.’ he was wrong, it should have been ‘lie’. In this way, I can remember what people do and the difference in  what we do to objects.”

The other day I was struggling in the school library over “I was” and “I were”. (I was working on the grammar rules for a class.) I asked a librarian for help. In her effort to explain it to me she went to the Grammar Girl website (which I highly recommend) to help explain the time when you use were. As she showed me the page I realized I’d read and maybe even listened to this topic from Grammar Girl before. That was disconcerting since I just discovered Grammar Girl within the last 6 months -- why can’t a remember this rule! But then someone said, “Think of Tevye.” I immediately thought of the line, “If I were a rich man...” The trick for “were” is if it’s a wish or impossibility. I feel confident I will remember now.

If I run into any more issues I have trouble remembering I will look for a song that illustrates it. Unfortunately, it’s a little late in the game for me to become a proper grammar police officer. However, with a bit of effort I hope to get to the point where I can catch myself and avoid being lazy in the area of writing. It turns out that Business Communications class is almost all about grammar, so here’s my chance to practice.

The Great Minnesota Get-Together

I’m missing the get-together. The Minnesota State Fair is known for being the “Great Minnesota Get-Together”. I can’t really afford a visit this year, so I have spent considerable time thinking about past outings to this event over many years.

I first remember going to the Fair in high school. I may have gone when I was younger and just don’t remember. I went with some potential boyfriend and a group as a teen, I can’t see allowing a teen to go on her own now that I’m an adult, but my parents had raised a few kids by the time I got to be a teenager. My mom went to the fair with her girlfriends when I was in high school and I couldn’t really figure out what the draw was for her. We spent our time on rides. But I do remember her being disappointed in seeing what her favorite (WCCO) radio voice looked like in real life. Not exactly what she imagined from that handsome voice.

As a young adult I was at the Fair several years running. I worked in the International Bazaar in the KENYA KENYA booth for a few years selling my favorite handicrafts from East Africa. It was fun to have the access and see the throngs stroll by. I worked with a Muslim Kikuyu gal who wanted to go out for a beer after we got off for the day. I told her I don’t drink and thought it strange that she did. But then it slipped my mind and I brought her a ham sandwich for lunch. Oops. We both got over it.

I lived in a Christian community for a while and one of the guys there was enthralled with the ‘freak’ or side shows in the midway. He came home from seeing the ape women “Zambora” calling me Jambora. It wasn’t really endearing, but we were kids, so to speak. That experience made me aware of part of the Fair I hadn’t considered until then, and honestly I haven’t thought of much since either.

One year I lived a few blocks from the main gates. Oh, the traffic! Some boy I knew at the time took me flying over the Fair at night. I toted my camera with the macro lens and got some awesome shots of the midway lit up at night. I’m sure if I dug through my photo boxes I would find those.

At the end of one of the years I worked there I bought at hammock chair from the booth across from us. I couldn’t help myself, their spiel was so convincing. I got a deal on one that had been up the whole 10 days. That hammock chair hangs on my front porch today and is still one of the most relaxing chairs to sit in after a busy day.

I’m not one of those people that LOVES the Fair and can’t miss it! But I do like to go for a number of reasons. I remember one year going with a father and two sons to see Kirby Puckett and get an autograph. Going with different people allows you to see things at the Fair you may have missed. I like the art displays and seeing what the Grad Stand Hawkers are selling. When I was into swing dancing I went to see the competition of friends.

Nothing tops seeing through the eyes of internationals that have never before experienced such a thing. Last year I took the AFRIZO! Team to the Fair. They had their first public performance at the new Crossroads Chapel. But seeing them enjoy turkey legs and rides was much more fun! Also just experiencing the wide range of folks who attend the Fair is interesting. There is no better people watching then there.

My trip down memory lane makes up for not going this year. I wonder if I’ll ever need to go again if I can just think about the past trips.

Points North

Today Alice and I head up to Duluth and join Lorraine for the evening. Tomorrow we continue up the coast of Lake Superior to Grand Marais, returning to Duluth for a some more fun on Monday and Tuesday. I love the North Shore. I used to make it a regular practice to get up there often – but the last few years have been challenging. (Never mind I've been living out of the country some of that time.)

Needless to say, I'm looking very forward to this road trip. (I haven't been able to say that too quickly after 2.5 months on the road last fall.) Even though I hadn't initially thought of it when planning, I think this will be a great bonding time for 3 new friends. Now, off to hunt for my camera. Hopefully photos will follow the weekend.

Three's Company

That old show conjures up memories of being young and having fun. I don't remembering it being a particularly edifying story and I am no longer young – but I hope this next season on life will be a little light-hearted on the home front. (That is not to say I haven't enjoyed the dear friends I have stayed with over the last year. But it is to say that I am glad to be in my place and settled. See previous post.)

About a month ago I was joined in my house by a new friend, Alice. How I found her was unlikely and farfetched. However, once we met we discovered that we had one set of close(ish) friends in common. I guess that made the agreement to live together a bit easier than total strangers. Turns out Alice is almost exactly 5 years younger than me, an age I consider to be in my range. AND she is also going back to school so she can pursue a new career path. She returned from 'the field' after 18 years of service just two years ago. She has some very different interests from me, but so far it's been a very good combo.

Tomorrow Lorraine is starting to move in. I met her almost the same way, just as unlikely. She is starting her second year of furlough from 'the field' in the hopes of recruiting new teammates for her area during this year. She's put in something like 32 years on the field. So she's a little older than me.

All three of us were working with people from the same continent, but those two speak French. (Is it too late to learn?) I really feel like God came through for me here in the housemate area. I was dreading renting to young people again because some of my past experiences were challenging. One good thing is that I'm a different person! But there is a camaraderie with like-minded, over 40-year-olds. I am hopeful this will be a good combination for the three of us. We'll see what happens.

Moving and Settling

I have moved a lot of times in my life. I have lived in several places in the past year, including a 12 passenger van! Now I'm back in my house, my own home. I love having a home and making it mine. In fact, I am feeling close to settled for the first time since May of last year. But I'm not completely settled. I did hang up some art today, a few of my mom's paintings and some other décor, but I didn't quite get it all up. In fact, I feel like I'm missing a few things. Things I may have stashed away and still haven't uncovered.

On top of feeling like I'm not finding all I thought I had stored, I have a nagging feeling that I shouldn't enjoy all these things. I should be content to live in a fox hole, or something simple anyway, but I'm not. I feel somehow guilty about my life back here in the US. To some it may sound silly, but that's how I feel. I haven't lost my love for Africans but I like making a home nice. It's important to me. I do that overseas too, but without my resident's status there, feeling settled alluded me. It seems to me that I am hardwired to want to feel settled.

I'm done moving around for a while, but I'm not totally settled. I may never feel settled. I was asked the other day if I miss Kenya with a deep longing to go back. I replied that both places are home to me. So maybe in a sense I'm never fully at home anywhere.

That is the point. We aren't at home anywhere here on this planet, our home is elsewhere.