Festivities!

Last night we celebrated Sally's birthday. With a full house and a little tyke providing entertainment, it was a great night! Thanks to Sally for letting us celebrate her as well as enjoy the many faces of your precious daughter!

Zach has declared 2009 the year of festivals. Our goal is to experience a variety of festivals thoughout Oregon within our budgetary means. Today we began the endeavor by taste tasting 42 different types of chocolate at the ChocolateFest held at the World Foresty Center.

The crowd was robust and at times it was hard to navigate to get near the booths. Nonetheless, we enjoyed the festival as well as the discovery center.

BD was a tad depressed today due to the Cougars being smashed. Being the friend he is, Zach helped BD help drown his sorrows in sake.

Omelettes Revolutionized!

Omelet making in the Banker abode has been forever altered!

On a normal omelet making night, the scenario would be as follows:

1. Put skillet on stove; heat.
2. Create omelet in mixing bowl
3. Pour creation into skillet
4. Jiggle the skillet a little to get the egg goo under the firm portion
5. Attempt to move firm portion with spatula
6. Tear the firm egg mixture
7. Attempt to cover up tear by leaning skillet to the torn side so egg goo covers tear
8. Flip set egg
9. Watch firm portion crumble into a heap
10. Aggressively take spatula and perform 37 karate 'hi-yahs' into firm egg portion
11. Serve husband scrambled eggs

Two weeks ago I received my normal barrage of random emails from my Aunt Susie. Within the latest bombardment, a gem labeled Ziploc Omelets has emerged. Within one week of the initial test, Zach requested them again. Ladies and gentlemen, that is a record!

On a radically altered omelet making night, the scenario is as follows:

1. Boil a pot of water
2. Pull out quart or gallon size Ziploc bags
3. Put eggs, cheese, meat, and any nutritional yumminess that needs to be in an omelet into the Ziploc bag
4. Squeeze air out of bag; smash contents with hand
5. Place the bags into rolling, boiling water for exactly 13 minutes
6. Cut the top off the bags



7. Roll omelet onto plate



8. Drool

I vow to never make an omelet without a Ziploc bag again. These are too good.

News from the Motherland

The message Tuesday morning read, "And there goes the power." Two days later, my sister remains in her dark and extremely cold duplex. Her boyfriend called today to let me know that she is ok and that last night they cooked a pizza on her propane grill.

These two days have not been a joy ride for the thousands caught in a deadly ice storm that has barraged the state of Kentucky. I have been monitoring the news frequently, and the reports are dismal. Though the majority of Kentucky citizens did not vote for him, Obama has set things in motion to get help. They are desperate.

I have not been able to reach my family since Tuesday. However, tonight the airwaves and towers cooperated and I was able to talk to my entire family, minus Jennie, who are spread all over the state.

By Stephen living in the Lexington city limits where all power lines run underground, his electricity has not flickered though beyond electricity is sketchy. He said the main roads are passable but the side roads are ice rinks.

My mom has been stranded in Hardinsburg with my Mammaw. Their electricity returned today. Mom has been having to work the floor due to so many nurses unable to reach the hospital. For those who are at the hospital, they have set up cots in classrooms, designated the surgical gurneys as beds, and have some staff sleeping on cots that are in patient rooms. Mom has been carpooling with the owner of the local hardware store, who lives on the same road as Mammaw. Mom did comment that in order to get her nursing shoes out of her Explorer, she had to use de-icer and a hammer for an hour. I laughed hard when she said, "I may have a few dents." Really, mom?! She lamented the loss of trees; many on the ground or split in half. She said the scene is beautiful, yet foreboding.

Recession has eluded the hardware store. According to Dad, his sales the last two days have reached the normal January earnings. He started out the week with two pallets of salt and within a day they were gone; he then began selling the sand. He no longer has kerosene heaters, gas cans of any shape, size, or color, shovels, generators, flashlights, batteries or salt. A truck is scheduled to bring inventory on Saturday. His chainsaw inventory has dwindled to a mere two, but has two pallets arriving tomorrow.

Today they filled 135 propane tanks; the main tank has been emptied everyday. Thankfully, the gas company is delivering everyday. Kerosene on the other hand is a different story--there is none to be found. People are driving to Tennessee to get kerosene.

All banks have been closed so Dad has been exhanging money with customers to have ones, fives, and change. He raided the coke machine for quarters.

On the personal side, Dad has been stuck in a hotel room that has no electricity, therefore no heat. Last night he scrounged lunch meat and a couple pieces of bread for dinner. Tonight he went to Walmart to get dinner and had to wait in line for thirty minutes to check out. He was told that was an improvement considering yesterday the wait was an hour at least. He is extremely tired, being one of three people working the store for the last three days. Stephen is driving down tomorrow to help the situation. He said, "If anything, I can put the two pallets of chainsaws together." I love that we know how to put chainsaws together.

Uncle Sam has kept an eye on the family farm. The report is that trees and limbs are everywhere, with one having hit the powerline connected to the farm house and disconnected power from the house. Dad is sure pipes have frozen and will bust if they have not already. Uncle Sam said the inside temperature was 36 degrees.

Four hours east of the of my homeland, Zach's parents have been battling the ice glaze as well. Zach received this picture from his dad yesterday.

Overall, it is a grim outlook for Kentucky. Many are being told that power will not be restored for a week, if not more. It could potentially be mid-February because so many sub stations have been destroyed.

The scary part? Another storm is predicted to hit Monday.

Weekend Shenanigans

BUNK
Upon Bob's arrival to Portland on Friday, we went to lunch at a new sandwich shop down the street from the Victorian hub called BUNK. Great sandwiches, but prepare to smell like your sandwich once you leave and for hours afterwards.

SURPRISE!
Some days my husband amazes me. While I finished out the Friday workday, the Banker boys found one heck of a sale at Joe's. I got a new jacket! I like it.



SKI BOWL
Please do not mind the large, purple bruise on my right hip. It is a new, free form of tatooing.

Please do not ask me to look to the left. Nothing is too important over there.

I love hugs! But, please do not 'squeeze'. I am just a tad tender from the 360s I was doing....in the snow.

I really like skiing. Really. However, externally I am a wreck at it. When my father in law started rating my wipe outs, I knew it was a dismal state of affairs. Skiing is one of those sports that being a newbie makes you feel as though you are the gum scum on the bottom of a KEDS sneaker.

The course of action was to take a bathroom break, alone, then head to Easy Green Street. There I frolicked, fell, and met some interesting fellow newbies. Once I felt comfortable, I headed over to the main chair lift area to see if I would run into the boys. I was coming down a blue, all nice and pretty, and I heard Zach yell from the chair lift. In my mind I thought, "Ohh, he saw me doing so well on a BLUE!"

I got on the lift and followed them to the top. As the chair crested the ridge, I raised my tips, scooted my bum to the edge, reached the disembarking location....and FELL once my skis hit the snow!

Once again, I was in a heap with Bob and Zach staring down at me. I was pure squishy scum.

At the end of the day, I survived and the guys had a great time.



TIMBERLINE/TRILLIUM LAKE
The cost of another lift ticket combined with a few aches and pains led to my decision to spend Sunday at a lower pace--snowshoeing! I spent the day traipsing alongside Trillium Lake. The trail was challenging at times, but the scenery made up for the extra hurts. However, the famous Mt. Hood view was unavailable for the day due to fog.


The boys had a great day at Timberline with Zach commenting, "You could totally handle Timberline."

Let me think on that once I get my pelvic bone back in line with the rest of my body.

THE OTHER STUFF
Mixed in with the mountain activities were meals, desserts, a comedy club adventure, lots of laughter, and a great time spent with a man we greatly love. To our delight, Bob is already talking about another weekend escapade in the summer to enjoy the Oregon waterways by canoe.

That man is talking my language now.

Reasons to check a child's homework

BACKGROUND INFORMATION: PART I

A few years ago the state of Kentucky adopted a new state slogan, Unbridled Spirit. Obviously, this choice made waves and has been the brunt of many snide remarks.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION: PART II

My sister, Jennie, is a fourth grade teacher in Kentucky. The tales of her classroom are comical and keep my sides hurting for days. However, by having a teacher sister, I receive many emails pertaining to silly things that kids have done, but not necessarily in her classroom.

THE REASON FOR BACKGROUND INFORMATION PARTS I AND II
Today, I received two emails from my sister. Neither of these came from her classroom.

Here's the reply the teacher received the following day:

Dear Mrs. Jones,

I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. I work at Home Depot and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had, and then I found one more in the back room, and that several people were fighting over who would get it. Her picture doesn't show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot. From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly before she turns it in.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Smith

Remember Unbridled Spirit? This story was written in response to, "What do you think of Unbridled Spirit?"

Weekly Piffle

I took a walk to the mailbox during work one day. I looked down and saw lasting impressions of fall leaves. It made a nice sidewalk mosaic for a stretch.

I love our life group. We laugh. We eat. We dive into the Word. We demoralize and smack talk with the best once the Bibles are put away for the night.

I am cleaning the Banker abode tonight because Bob is coming tomorrow! Hooray!

A great way to start the day!

I love history.

I love watching history be made.

I love that I got goosebumps while watching this.

Snowshoeing

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.

Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.

The winds will blow their own freshness into you,

and the storms their energy,

while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.

-John Muir

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=71712&l=70b66&id=668770847

Wind in the Willows: Life Lesson II

Midway through the Wind in the Willows, I stumbled upon the chapter titled Wayfarers All. It seized my imagination and has left me pondering its subtle messages for a couple days.

The synopsis: Rat is quite despondent in attitude while strolling the river bank. He comes across the field mice who are packing in preparation of moving out of the wheat fields. Rat chides them for being proactive and not enjoying the day. He continues in his stroll, only to run into swallows chirping and carrying on about flying south. Rat questions why they follow such a ritual instead of hunkering down for the winter alongside the river bank. The conversation is as follows:

"No, you don't understand, naturally,' said the second swallow. `First, we feel it stirring within us, a sweet unrest; then back come the recollections one by one, like homing pigeons. They flutter through our dreams at night, they fly with us in our wheelings and circlings by day. We hunger to inquire of each other, to compare notes and assure ourselves that it was all really true, as one by one the scents and sounds and names of long-forgotten places come gradually back and beckon to us."

'Couldn't you stop on for just this year?' suggested the Water Rat, wistfully. `We'll all do our best to make you feel at home. You've no idea what good times we have here, while you are far away.'

`I tried "stopping on" one year,' said the third swallow. `I had grown so fond of the place that when the time came I hung back and let the others go on without me. For a few weeks it was all well enough, but afterwards, O the weary length of the nights! The shivering, sunless days! The air so clammy and chill, and not an insect in an acre of it! No, it was no good; my courage broke down, and one cold, stormy night I took wing, flying well inland on account of the strong easterly gales. It was snowing hard as I beat through the passes of the great mountains, and I had a stiff fight to win through; but never shall I forget the blissful feeling of the hot sun again on my back as I sped down to the lakes that lay so blue and placid below me, and the taste of my first fat insect! The past was like a bad dream; the future was all happy holiday as I moved southwards week by week, easily, lazily, lingering as long as I dared, but always heeding the call! No, I had had my warning; never again did I think of disobedience."

Rat, still not sated in his unrest, stumbles upon a Sea Rat plodding along the dirt road. They sit a spell, and Sea Rat weaves tales of ports, luscious islands, exotic foods, freedom, and sea spray. Once fed, the Sea Rat stands and tells Rat:

"And you, you will come too, young brother; for the days pass, and never return, and the South still waits for you. Take the Adventure, heed the call, now ere the irrevocable moment passes!' 'Tis but a banging of the door behind you, a blithesome step forward, and you are out of the old life and into the new! Then some day, some day long hence, jog home here if you will, when the cup has been drained and the play has been played, and sit down by your quiet river with a store of goodly memories for company.

Rat runs home to grab travel essentials, heads out the door, only to be met by Mole. Mole asks where Rat is going, in which Rat replies:

'Going South, with the rest of them,' murmured the Rat in a dreamy monotone, never looking at him. `Seawards first and then on shipboard, and so to the shores that are calling me!'

He pressed resolutely forward, still without haste, but with dogged fixity of purpose; but the Mole, now thoroughly alarmed, placed himself in front of him, and looking into his eyes saw that they were glazed and set and turned a streaked and shifting grey -- not his friend's eyes, but the eyes of some other animal! Grappling with him strongly he dragged him inside, threw him down, and held him.

The Rat struggled desperately for a few moments, and then his strength seemed suddenly to leave him, and he lay still and exhausted, with closed eyes, trembling. Presently the Mole assisted him to rise and placed him in a chair, where he sat collapsed and shrunken into himself, his body shaken by a violent shivering, passing in time into an hysterical fit of dry sobbing. Mole made the door fast, threw the satchel into a drawer and locked it, and sat down quietly on the table by his friend, waiting for the strange seizure to pass.

I type and quote the story to illustrate two things on my mind since reading this chapter.

1. What is my 'sweet unrest'? What beckons me to plot, plan, dream and go after?


2. Am I the Sea Rat; the one who weaves tales of adventure and encourages those around me to seek something new, something different, something beyond themselves? Or, am I the Mole who fears the unknown and squashes dreams by holding those back?

I really like this book.

Wind in the Willows: Life Lesson 1

Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing--absolutely nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.

Simply messing about in boats.

Whether you get away,


or whether you don't;

whether you arrive at your destination..

or whether you reach somewhere else,

or whether you never get anywhere at all, you are always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to do and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not.

--Rat

Denied!

One of my goals for 2009 is to train and participate in a sprint triathlon.

Yesterday I signed up for the Gator Grinder Tri.

Today, I was denied. I received an email stating the organizers are no longer accepting contestants and to peruse www.racecenter.com for other events.

Drats.

The hard part may not be the training, but trying to get into these popular events.

Adults?

Though Zach and I are nearing the 30 mark (Zach moreso than me), we view ourselves as carefree, reckless young'uns. However, there are moments when I sit completely mesmerized and perplexed that we can carry on logical, sincere conversations without one of us being a complete smart ass. Last night was one of those nights.

I sat on the kitchen counter drinking tea when Zach sauntered in and took up residence on the opposite counter. In a face off, we had laid out those deep, random thoughts that we seem to bottle for a time then spew. Nothing bad; but our vocal repetoire was vast. We talked about recruiting for a seminary. We talked about the details of a PR firm. We talked about dreams for 2009. We discussed the things we wanted to sponsor/support this year financially. We discussed Zach heading to Scotland and me to Rwanda during the summer for mission opportunities. We tossed around ideas for Bob's visit next week. We planned the rest of the week.

It was fun, refreshing, but one those moments upon reflection that I think, "Oh geez, I feel so adultish!"

Black and White

The heat wave missed its mark, and today did not reach 50 degrees. Nonetheless, plans had been laid to paddle and we were not going to be thwarted by chills and our breath being visible. I vowed that the day's pictures would be strictly black and white since it was foggy, cloud covered, and frigid.

We launched at the end of the Columbia Slough which joins the Willamette and Columbia River. It is a tri-waterway with a variety of sights, sounds, and currents.

We roused a heron from its nap, rode the wakes of tankers, and watched grain be put onto a huge barge. It is one of the busiest section of waterway we had visited in a long time.

Though I enjoyed our paddle, the damp cold wrecked its havoc and I had to pull out earlier than expected. I am ready for summer.

Tree, please start sprouting leaves.

Detour

Nature never ceases to enrapture me. There are days when my surroundings seem so vivid in color, smell, and feel. Yesterday, as I drove to a doctor's appointment the sky displayed a deep yellow hue with the landscape in a stunning contrast to its backdrop.

As I stepped from my office today the sky once again hinted at something spectacular. When it came for me to go straight on Stark, I took a left heading to Rocky Butte. With a tripod in tow, I ran to the top to capture a glimmer of the vibrant colors and landscapes. Though I feel as though I missed the 'peak' five minutes, I was still amazed by the view and the beauty that surrounds us.

As darkness set in, Zach joined me on the Butte. The moon was starting to make its majestic appearance.

It was a mesmerizing way to end a detour.