A couple of years ago a friend of ours sent us a Christmas card that had a lovely picture of the wise men crossing the desert in the dark of night, following the brightness of the Star of Hope. There were only five words written on it. Can you guess what they were? I had never heard this until then and I just loved it. Loved it. It said "Wise Men Still Seek Him." Everything about those words appeal to me, beginning with the play on words and ending with the truism it contains with a whole lot of emotional a-ha's in between.
A few weeks ago a man gave a talk in Sacrament meeting. One of the things that he said really struck me. He said, "We know that we are to build our foundation on the Savior, but you can't live on just a foundation. You have to build walls and a roof. You need a place to live, not just somewhere to start building. The foundation is extremely important, but if you stop there, you're missing the point. He said that once we've chosen to have the Savior as the central point of our lives, we can't leave it at that. We have to learn and study. We have to grow spiritually and develop a deeper understanding of the things of God, continuing with Christ as our center point. A sure foundation is the single most important thing for starting your building, but it needs to be added to and built upon.
I started applying this to myself. The talk was given to relatively new members of the church. There is sometimes a tendency (with us all) to get complacent. To feel like, yes, now we understand the gospel so let's try to keep the commandments and call it good. I realized that I have a great advantage over Polish members of the church, in that I was raised in the church and have been learning and studying all my life. You could say that in some ways I know more. I think I have my house built. My foundation is sure, like the wise man's in the parable, and there are walls and a roof. I am mostly unaffected by passing storms. I am resilient because of the practice of my faith over the years.
Then I started to think about that house. What's it like?* Am I keeping up with the maintenance? And what's the interior like? What are the furnishings? It seems this analogy can be taken from the foundation to the walls and roof and even further. Living with just walls and a roof doesn't quite make for what I would call a high standard of living. I would like to have a lovely place to dwell. I would like to be sure that there are no leaks or chipping paint. That the inside is comfortable and cozy. Since the excitement of the actual building of the house ended for me long ago, there are much smaller, but also important things I need to attend to. My life can be greatly enriched by deeper study and a stronger exercising of faith and service and a greater effort made toward selflessness. There are still so many little things I can do to make my house a home.
I want to be a wise man (or probably actually a woman). One who seeks Him. One who builds his (her) house upon the Rock. And one who has excellent home furnishings.
*I like adding in a bit of C.S. Lewis' and his analogy of our "decent little cottage" that the Lord will tear down walls of and hammer and work in all sorts of uncomfortable, and even painful ways because he has planned for us, not a cottage, but a palace.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Heaving a Huge One of Relief
It is with not even the tiniest bit of regret that I inform you that I will not be making an appearance here until TUESDAY!!!!!
I thank you all dearly for sticking with me through this month! Not sure if I can say it was a success, but I CAN say that I posted something every day and that's good enough for me!! In December we'll be back to our three-times a week posting. And now let's all express our relief with a great big group sigh:
I thank you all dearly for sticking with me through this month! Not sure if I can say it was a success, but I CAN say that I posted something every day and that's good enough for me!! In December we'll be back to our three-times a week posting. And now let's all express our relief with a great big group sigh:
*SIGH*
You know what? Blogger's font doesn't get nearly large enough for some things.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Don't Wanna
It's a long weekend. People don't want to read blogs all that much. Some people don't want to write posts all that much, either. So I'll do us both a favor.
Except I have to say that we decorated the house for Christmas yesterday (we always did it the day after Thanksgiving growing up and it's a tradition I'm keeping) and then sat down with some slush* (another Christmas tradition) and watched The General (a silent film from 1927 with Buster Keaton. We all loved it, and even Aaron sat through the whole thing pointing at the screen and saying "Uh oh!" and "Woah! Woah, whoah woah!" at all the right parts. He even laughed when we did,but only because we did). The General isn't a tradition, but maybe it will be from now on. Or maybe just any silent film. We're into Charlie Chaplin, too.
I hope you guys are all being at least a little lazy and not too productive. That's what it's all about. Food and laziness.
*I was going to link to a recipe for slush, but couldn't readily find it online. It's just the orange, pineapple and lemon juice and mashed bananas made into a syrup, frozen, and scraped into glasses with 7-up poured on top thing. This is another of my family traditions and we usually drink this with chips and dip. Mmmm, salty/fatty with refreshing and sweet. YUM.
Except I have to say that we decorated the house for Christmas yesterday (we always did it the day after Thanksgiving growing up and it's a tradition I'm keeping) and then sat down with some slush* (another Christmas tradition) and watched The General (a silent film from 1927 with Buster Keaton. We all loved it, and even Aaron sat through the whole thing pointing at the screen and saying "Uh oh!" and "Woah! Woah, whoah woah!" at all the right parts. He even laughed when we did,but only because we did). The General isn't a tradition, but maybe it will be from now on. Or maybe just any silent film. We're into Charlie Chaplin, too.
I hope you guys are all being at least a little lazy and not too productive. That's what it's all about. Food and laziness.
*I was going to link to a recipe for slush, but couldn't readily find it online. It's just the orange, pineapple and lemon juice and mashed bananas made into a syrup, frozen, and scraped into glasses with 7-up poured on top thing. This is another of my family traditions and we usually drink this with chips and dip. Mmmm, salty/fatty with refreshing and sweet. YUM.
Friday, November 28, 2008
For Future Reference
While I'm thinking about them, I'm going to write down two important things I learned yesterday and today for myself in order to avoid problems in the future. And since everyone else is shopping and not blogging today, it seems like as good a day as any to write myself a memo in the form of a post.
********
When preparing a large meal single-handedly (or attempting to clean the entire house floor to ceiling in one day) you must eat periodically. Just because you normally are not that busy and eat pretty frequently does not mean that you eat because you are not busy and therefore you don't have to eat when you are. Oh no no. When you're busy, your body still needs nutrients, maybe even more so than on lazy days. Because if you don't eat, it's entirely possible that you may find yourself feeling very weak and ill right before an important dinner, or just when the guests arrive. Also, keep in mind that this is hard (for you) to remember. You have to work at it, because if you don't, it's very likely that it will happen over and over again, causing a great deal of stress and unhappiness at the very moments when joy and gladness are what are wanted. And it might cause your husband to dread holidays and having company. Husbands should not dread those things.
Also:
If you ever decide to buy some rubber gloves for use in soapy, wet projects, after a couple of years of not wearing them (because your hands look like those of an eighty year old woman until right after you put lotion on, when they go back to looking like 20 year old hands*, and you can't put lotion on every three minutes (after washing them or something else) anymore), then go to the store and find a nice pair of blue ones and bring them home and open them to find that there is some MIGHTY POWERFULLY SCENTED "balsam" lining the inside of the gloves, and that size small, in some brands, is a tiny bit too small for you, which might make it extremely difficult to remove the gloves once they're suctioned on to your hands. And it also might make you lose circulation to certain fingers now and again during dish washing, but decide to live with it because you bought two pairs and you're not throwing them away.
Then, if you're washing dishes while your 19 month old is eating a snack and he happens to somehow push off the tray that you were sure was locked, causing his plate and sippy cup to crash to the floor and the tray to land on top of them, REMEMBER that this child is not old enough to have ever seen you in rubber gloves. He's not like your other children who have seen you many times walking around the house in your (then yellow) gloved hands just like Dexter's mom, doing some quick task in the middle of washing dishes. No, he has not, and it's an unfamiliar sight. If you remember this, you will be more likely to take the three minutes to remove the gloves before helping him out (because, even though the child isn't buckled in, and never has been, he is a very careful child and would never try to get out on his own and will just sit there until you do something for him, the lazy bum).
Also, If you remember this, you can avoid this scenario: You rinse the soap off your gloves and dry them quickly on the towel. Then you pick up the child and take him to the sink to wash his hands as usual. You put soap on them and then start helping him to "make bubbles." He starts screaming. You realize that he is afraid of the gloves. He pulls his hands back to his body, still screaming. You make eye contact with him and say over and over, "They're just gloves, Aaron! Look it's mommy's hands in there! Gloves! See they can wiggle! It's mommy! See: do-dee-do-dee-do (dancing your hands to the music hoping he will connect your voice with the hand movements and realize they are part of you, and therefore these blue things are unlikely to attack him). This is all a bit of a juggling act because you are holding the child up the whole time, too. When he still doesn't get it and continues to scream just grab his hands and rinse them quickly, set him down on the floor, still screaming and spend the three minutes while you are removing the gloves talking to him about it in a sometimes soothing, sometimes silly voice (counting on comic relief). He may continue to stand there making an ugly barking scream every three seconds, the kind that means, "I can't believe you did that to me, and I don't know if I can ever forgive or trust you again."
********
The first should come in handy next weekend when we are having company (hooray!). And hopefully the second will never be needed again. I wrote it just in case.
*I'm just estimating that that's how old my lotioned hands look. I've never asked a professional or anything.
********
When preparing a large meal single-handedly (or attempting to clean the entire house floor to ceiling in one day) you must eat periodically. Just because you normally are not that busy and eat pretty frequently does not mean that you eat because you are not busy and therefore you don't have to eat when you are. Oh no no. When you're busy, your body still needs nutrients, maybe even more so than on lazy days. Because if you don't eat, it's entirely possible that you may find yourself feeling very weak and ill right before an important dinner, or just when the guests arrive. Also, keep in mind that this is hard (for you) to remember. You have to work at it, because if you don't, it's very likely that it will happen over and over again, causing a great deal of stress and unhappiness at the very moments when joy and gladness are what are wanted. And it might cause your husband to dread holidays and having company. Husbands should not dread those things.
Also:
If you ever decide to buy some rubber gloves for use in soapy, wet projects, after a couple of years of not wearing them (because your hands look like those of an eighty year old woman until right after you put lotion on, when they go back to looking like 20 year old hands*, and you can't put lotion on every three minutes (after washing them or something else) anymore), then go to the store and find a nice pair of blue ones and bring them home and open them to find that there is some MIGHTY POWERFULLY SCENTED "balsam" lining the inside of the gloves, and that size small, in some brands, is a tiny bit too small for you, which might make it extremely difficult to remove the gloves once they're suctioned on to your hands. And it also might make you lose circulation to certain fingers now and again during dish washing, but decide to live with it because you bought two pairs and you're not throwing them away.
Then, if you're washing dishes while your 19 month old is eating a snack and he happens to somehow push off the tray that you were sure was locked, causing his plate and sippy cup to crash to the floor and the tray to land on top of them, REMEMBER that this child is not old enough to have ever seen you in rubber gloves. He's not like your other children who have seen you many times walking around the house in your (then yellow) gloved hands just like Dexter's mom, doing some quick task in the middle of washing dishes. No, he has not, and it's an unfamiliar sight. If you remember this, you will be more likely to take the three minutes to remove the gloves before helping him out (because, even though the child isn't buckled in, and never has been, he is a very careful child and would never try to get out on his own and will just sit there until you do something for him, the lazy bum).
Also, If you remember this, you can avoid this scenario: You rinse the soap off your gloves and dry them quickly on the towel. Then you pick up the child and take him to the sink to wash his hands as usual. You put soap on them and then start helping him to "make bubbles." He starts screaming. You realize that he is afraid of the gloves. He pulls his hands back to his body, still screaming. You make eye contact with him and say over and over, "They're just gloves, Aaron! Look it's mommy's hands in there! Gloves! See they can wiggle! It's mommy! See: do-dee-do-dee-do (dancing your hands to the music hoping he will connect your voice with the hand movements and realize they are part of you, and therefore these blue things are unlikely to attack him). This is all a bit of a juggling act because you are holding the child up the whole time, too. When he still doesn't get it and continues to scream just grab his hands and rinse them quickly, set him down on the floor, still screaming and spend the three minutes while you are removing the gloves talking to him about it in a sometimes soothing, sometimes silly voice (counting on comic relief). He may continue to stand there making an ugly barking scream every three seconds, the kind that means, "I can't believe you did that to me, and I don't know if I can ever forgive or trust you again."
********
The first should come in handy next weekend when we are having company (hooray!). And hopefully the second will never be needed again. I wrote it just in case.
*I'm just estimating that that's how old my lotioned hands look. I've never asked a professional or anything.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Roasting Hot Dogs for Thanksgiving
One thing I'm not thankful for is the saying "to kill two birds with one stone." Why do we still say that? It's not nice at all, which is why I'm starting a new and improved saying. It's more humane and definitely more delicious. Roasting two hot dogs on one stick.
For my Thanksgiving post I'm going to roast a few hot dogs on one stick by turning my answer to Pam's question into a Thanksgiving post. Her question was: What would you miss the most about Poland when you come back to the states? by phrasing it in a "What I love about Poland" or more specifically to the holiday "What I'm thankful for about Poland." These are all things I will miss about this wonderful country when/if we ever leave it.
* I am thankful to be surrounded by a country that has such a rich, deeply rooted history of tragedy, bravery, patriotism and endurance.
*I am thankful for castle ruins. I love castle ruins and they abound in Poland.
*I am thankful to be surrounded by people whose culture remains a bit of a mystery to me and to see their acceptance of me and for the opportunity I have to learn to accept and love them and their ways.
*I am thankful that my children share this culture which I do not and can teach me about it in our home.
*I am thankful for the driver language on the tight, two lane highways that are still the the only travel option in most parts of the country. If a driver headed toward you flashes his headlights he is warning you that there is a police "speed trap" coming up. If a diesel is in front of you and you want to pass but it's hard to see ahead of you, they might signal right, indicating that the way is clear and you can pass them on the left. But this is MY FAVORITE: If a car passes you and you move slightly to the right, or slow down a little or do anything to make the passing easier for them, once they are in front of you they will turn their hazard lights on for a second by way of "thank you." For example, you would flash your hazard lights after passing a truck who had signaled right to let you know that it was safe to pass him. This is like the friendliest little gesture and I love it.
*I am thankful for the lovely forests that are found all over Poland. And I am thankful that you can pull into the forest at any time as you drive across the country and go for a walk, as there are paths through nearly all the forests and there is no such thing as trespassing.
*I am thankful for a more basic way of life. That extravagance is not an issue and people worry less about keeping up with the Joneses (Kowalskis).
*I am thankful that I never hear about the latest fad in food until I visit America and then come blissfully back home and never hear another word about "carbs" or "trans-fats" again.
*I am thankful that my husband can live in the country he loves and that he takes every opportunity to help this country improve in all ways.
Oh, there are lots more, but there are also rolls to be baked and green beans to be cooked and not mixed with cream of mushroom soup.
I am seriously so blessed. Just kidding, I'm away from it all, but I am very blessed with a wonderful family, home, faith, and wanna know something? You're a blessing to me, too! And I'm thankful for you!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!
For my Thanksgiving post I'm going to roast a few hot dogs on one stick by turning my answer to Pam's question into a Thanksgiving post. Her question was: What would you miss the most about Poland when you come back to the states? by phrasing it in a "What I love about Poland" or more specifically to the holiday "What I'm thankful for about Poland." These are all things I will miss about this wonderful country when/if we ever leave it.
* I am thankful to be surrounded by a country that has such a rich, deeply rooted history of tragedy, bravery, patriotism and endurance.
*I am thankful for castle ruins. I love castle ruins and they abound in Poland.
*I am thankful to be surrounded by people whose culture remains a bit of a mystery to me and to see their acceptance of me and for the opportunity I have to learn to accept and love them and their ways.
*I am thankful that my children share this culture which I do not and can teach me about it in our home.
*I am thankful for the driver language on the tight, two lane highways that are still the the only travel option in most parts of the country. If a driver headed toward you flashes his headlights he is warning you that there is a police "speed trap" coming up. If a diesel is in front of you and you want to pass but it's hard to see ahead of you, they might signal right, indicating that the way is clear and you can pass them on the left. But this is MY FAVORITE: If a car passes you and you move slightly to the right, or slow down a little or do anything to make the passing easier for them, once they are in front of you they will turn their hazard lights on for a second by way of "thank you." For example, you would flash your hazard lights after passing a truck who had signaled right to let you know that it was safe to pass him. This is like the friendliest little gesture and I love it.
*I am thankful for the lovely forests that are found all over Poland. And I am thankful that you can pull into the forest at any time as you drive across the country and go for a walk, as there are paths through nearly all the forests and there is no such thing as trespassing.
*I am thankful for a more basic way of life. That extravagance is not an issue and people worry less about keeping up with the Joneses (Kowalskis).
*I am thankful that I never hear about the latest fad in food until I visit America and then come blissfully back home and never hear another word about "carbs" or "trans-fats" again.
*I am thankful that my husband can live in the country he loves and that he takes every opportunity to help this country improve in all ways.
Oh, there are lots more, but there are also rolls to be baked and green beans to be cooked and not mixed with cream of mushroom soup.
I am seriously so blessed. Just kidding, I'm away from it all, but I am very blessed with a wonderful family, home, faith, and wanna know something? You're a blessing to me, too! And I'm thankful for you!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
What Kind of Question Is That?
Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary asked:
I want to know what ONE blog you would read if you could only read ONE for the rest of your life forever and ever only ONE. (Please don't think I'm looking for you to say MINE, I'm really honestly not) I love to know what blogs are people's absolute favorites because it tells me something about them and gives me a possible lead on a new blog to love.
Um, why didn't you just ask which of my three children I like best? I would be equally willing and able to answer. As in not at all. (Sorry! And plus, on the post where I asked for questions, I was going to use as an example of a controversial question that I wouldn't answer, "What's your favorite blog" but then changed it to the carpal tunnel thing. For reals!)
But I will pass along the award you gave me, Heather. But first I'll thank you for it, very kindly!
So I have my own new rule you may remember of only passing awards on to one person. Heather did this, too, and I like it so I'm going to pass this award, which is in recognition of a blogger who something about is your friend and blogging makes you closer or makes the world shrink or something and to show the marvels and to do friendship. That's my version, anyway, which I typed up for you all so it would be perfectly clear and understandable in case you have a hard time figuring out the translation into "English" that it came with:
"This blog invests and believes, the proximity. They all are charmed with the blogs, wherein the majority of its aims are to show the marvels and to do friendship; there are persons who are not interested when we give them a prize, and then they help to cut these bows; do we want that they are cut, or that they propagate? Then let's try to give more attention to them!"
So the person I'm passing it on to is sort of a lot of things I'd like to be, or at least she surely seems like it based on her blog and comments on this and other blogs:
She is sophisticated.
She thinks about important things, and then blogs about them.
She is lovely. She looks almost like a model in most of her pictures. Even the ones where she's crossing her eyes.
She is very uplifting and encouraging.
She is a good example.
She is a good writer.
She has FOUR BOYS* plus a husband under her watch and care and seems to be not only surviving but thriving.
She is going to agree to meet me some day when I'm in Utah visiting my mother.
And her name is Kazzy and her blog is called Kazzy's Ponderings and I really like them both.
Okay, one of the boys is not exactly under her watch and care, as he's out of the country(missionary), but still.
I want to know what ONE blog you would read if you could only read ONE for the rest of your life forever and ever only ONE. (Please don't think I'm looking for you to say MINE, I'm really honestly not) I love to know what blogs are people's absolute favorites because it tells me something about them and gives me a possible lead on a new blog to love.
Um, why didn't you just ask which of my three children I like best? I would be equally willing and able to answer. As in not at all. (Sorry! And plus, on the post where I asked for questions, I was going to use as an example of a controversial question that I wouldn't answer, "What's your favorite blog" but then changed it to the carpal tunnel thing. For reals!)
But I will pass along the award you gave me, Heather. But first I'll thank you for it, very kindly!
So I have my own new rule you may remember of only passing awards on to one person. Heather did this, too, and I like it so I'm going to pass this award, which is in recognition of a blogger who something about is your friend and blogging makes you closer or makes the world shrink or something and to show the marvels and to do friendship. That's my version, anyway, which I typed up for you all so it would be perfectly clear and understandable in case you have a hard time figuring out the translation into "English" that it came with:
"This blog invests and believes, the proximity. They all are charmed with the blogs, wherein the majority of its aims are to show the marvels and to do friendship; there are persons who are not interested when we give them a prize, and then they help to cut these bows; do we want that they are cut, or that they propagate? Then let's try to give more attention to them!"So the person I'm passing it on to is sort of a lot of things I'd like to be, or at least she surely seems like it based on her blog and comments on this and other blogs:
She is sophisticated.
She thinks about important things, and then blogs about them.
She is lovely. She looks almost like a model in most of her pictures. Even the ones where she's crossing her eyes.
She is very uplifting and encouraging.
She is a good example.
She is a good writer.
She has FOUR BOYS* plus a husband under her watch and care and seems to be not only surviving but thriving.
She is going to agree to meet me some day when I'm in Utah visiting my mother.
And her name is Kazzy and her blog is called Kazzy's Ponderings and I really like them both.
Okay, one of the boys is not exactly under her watch and care, as he's out of the country(missionary), but still.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Parenting Technique Etc.
There are three kinds of parents The kind that can't stand to hear their baby cry/scream out of sympathy, the kind who can't stand to hear it out of annoyance and the kind who don't hear it, or at least don't let it affect them too much either way.
I'm a little of each, but Greg is almost always the second one. He doesn't like it. He likes to be far away from it. But when you're driving in a car with the child, it's hard to get away.
This weekend when we were driving to Łódż to visit his parents, Aaron did really well. Almost the whole 5 hour drive (with no stops). But he whined a little. And at some point the whining turned into crying. And after about a minute of that Greg shouted, "Aaron! No no! All done crying!" Shouting in a car is a little different than shouting in a house or outside. Sort of like a baby crying in a car is different than in a house or outside. As soon as Greg's short but loud shout was done, the crying stopped. And didn't return for rest of the drive (about an hour).
As we were pulling into the parking lot below his parent's apartment building I said, "I know any amount of crying seems to go on forever, but Aaron actually did really well and only complained for maybe 10 minutes total on the whole drive!" To which Greg replied, "Yeah, because I screamed at him." To which I replied, "Yes, because you believe in anger management." About which we laughed and made lots of clever comments then Greg started coming up with other situations in which to use this philosophy: "Someone does something wrong at work: (in a pretend scream) 'YOU IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?!" and when someone asks what's the matter I tell them it's my new management technique: Anger Management. I works for my kids!" Greg is a very impressive manager, but I can't wait to see how they like his new style!
Also, while we were driving there we got snow! And it stuck!! And I love it.
Also, every evening when we are visiting Greg's parents and we say family prayer together Greg's father chooses one of us to pray. Usually he chooses Evie or David, but occasionally it's me or Greg. One evening he called on me. I started it out in English on accident and had to backtrack (reminding me of the days I sometimes started my (silent) personal prayers: We are daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us--Whoops! And the one time when I was a kid and started our family prayer: I pledge allegiance to the---whoops! I think those are good indications your prayers might be a bit rote.)
Greg's parents live in an itty bitty apartment. Tiny. 38 square meters, if that means anything to you. And in a building of maybe 75 apartments surrounded by many other buildings full of apartments in the second largest city in Poland. Squished. Which made it all the stranger when, during my prayer I thanked God for Greg's parent's farm. They don't have a farm. They've never had a farm. They don't even want a farm, I don't think. His dad laughed. During the prayer. So I opened one eye and gave Greg the word "hospitality?" and he gave me a very different word than the one I'd said. Whoops! But then I fixed it so now we all know that I'm really not thankful for their farm so much as for their kindness in having us in their home.
And I didn't find out what I'd actually said until after the prayer when Greg told me what gospodarstwo means (which I actually knew but forgot). If you speak Polish, hopefully you can see the connection between that and gospodarz, which can mean "host" so I was thinking in terms of their "hosting" us. Apparently you can't say that. And I even know the right word for hospitality, but forgot again! Sheesh! I can't even get my own kids names right half the time, please don't ask me to speak a foreign language!
I'm a little of each, but Greg is almost always the second one. He doesn't like it. He likes to be far away from it. But when you're driving in a car with the child, it's hard to get away.
This weekend when we were driving to Łódż to visit his parents, Aaron did really well. Almost the whole 5 hour drive (with no stops). But he whined a little. And at some point the whining turned into crying. And after about a minute of that Greg shouted, "Aaron! No no! All done crying!" Shouting in a car is a little different than shouting in a house or outside. Sort of like a baby crying in a car is different than in a house or outside. As soon as Greg's short but loud shout was done, the crying stopped. And didn't return for rest of the drive (about an hour).
As we were pulling into the parking lot below his parent's apartment building I said, "I know any amount of crying seems to go on forever, but Aaron actually did really well and only complained for maybe 10 minutes total on the whole drive!" To which Greg replied, "Yeah, because I screamed at him." To which I replied, "Yes, because you believe in anger management." About which we laughed and made lots of clever comments then Greg started coming up with other situations in which to use this philosophy: "Someone does something wrong at work: (in a pretend scream) 'YOU IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?!" and when someone asks what's the matter I tell them it's my new management technique: Anger Management. I works for my kids!" Greg is a very impressive manager, but I can't wait to see how they like his new style!
Also, while we were driving there we got snow! And it stuck!! And I love it.
Also, every evening when we are visiting Greg's parents and we say family prayer together Greg's father chooses one of us to pray. Usually he chooses Evie or David, but occasionally it's me or Greg. One evening he called on me. I started it out in English on accident and had to backtrack (reminding me of the days I sometimes started my (silent) personal prayers: We are daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us--Whoops! And the one time when I was a kid and started our family prayer: I pledge allegiance to the---whoops! I think those are good indications your prayers might be a bit rote.)
Greg's parents live in an itty bitty apartment. Tiny. 38 square meters, if that means anything to you. And in a building of maybe 75 apartments surrounded by many other buildings full of apartments in the second largest city in Poland. Squished. Which made it all the stranger when, during my prayer I thanked God for Greg's parent's farm. They don't have a farm. They've never had a farm. They don't even want a farm, I don't think. His dad laughed. During the prayer. So I opened one eye and gave Greg the word "hospitality?" and he gave me a very different word than the one I'd said. Whoops! But then I fixed it so now we all know that I'm really not thankful for their farm so much as for their kindness in having us in their home.
And I didn't find out what I'd actually said until after the prayer when Greg told me what gospodarstwo means (which I actually knew but forgot). If you speak Polish, hopefully you can see the connection between that and gospodarz, which can mean "host" so I was thinking in terms of their "hosting" us. Apparently you can't say that. And I even know the right word for hospitality, but forgot again! Sheesh! I can't even get my own kids names right half the time, please don't ask me to speak a foreign language!
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