Today was a typical Monday at the mission. On Mondays Troy spends hours just hearing needs. It is the one day you can come talk to him without an appointment - about anything at all. Requests vary from funding schools and churches to advice about getting a visa to America to complaints about the village not having electricity.
I went to Port and picked up Britt without any excitement. The police at the police checks all waved me by, no near collisions with buses. That is the best kind of trip to Port.
Right now ...
Troy - Is working on his fancy dinner, hand mincing fresh garlic ... and quite proud of himself.
Paige- Is at the gate talking to her people, her posse, or whatever they are called. Her favorite time of day occurs right now.
Isaac- Just asked for "one more teaspoon" of Mac and Cheese. He has been listening in on his dad's cooking talk. (But did not want Stir Fry and asked for Mac and Cheese.)
Britt- Saw patients this afternoon, most of whom welcomed her expertise over the pinch-hitter medical-guy, Troy. She is now writing a paper about Idolatry for English Class.
Hope- Is watching Land of the Lost. For all of the thirty-somethings in the crowd, you remember it well. What you might not remember, is how TERRIBLE the acting and production of that show is/was. She covers her eyes for lots of it. Do you remember Chaka? For your sake I hope not.
Noah- Had soap put in his mouth for the first time in his three years today. He is struggling to get the concept that when wrestling with his brother, he cannot bite him. Given many chances to figure it out, we've now resorted to a bar of soap in the mouth for biting.
Phoebe- Is still the easiest baby ever born. She just plays and chats and sleeps and eats.
I- Am expending tons of energy trying not to complain about my swollen fat ankles that resemble the ankles of my Grandmother's Porter and Pals ... only they were 85 when their ankles became Cankles (calf-sized ankles) and I am not yet 35 nor am I in the late months of my pregnancy. I don't accept it. But I am not complaining.
I went to Port and picked up Britt without any excitement. The police at the police checks all waved me by, no near collisions with buses. That is the best kind of trip to Port.
Right now ...
Troy - Is working on his fancy dinner, hand mincing fresh garlic ... and quite proud of himself.
Paige- Is at the gate talking to her people, her posse, or whatever they are called. Her favorite time of day occurs right now.
Isaac- Just asked for "one more teaspoon" of Mac and Cheese. He has been listening in on his dad's cooking talk. (But did not want Stir Fry and asked for Mac and Cheese.)
Britt- Saw patients this afternoon, most of whom welcomed her expertise over the pinch-hitter medical-guy, Troy. She is now writing a paper about Idolatry for English Class.
Hope- Is watching Land of the Lost. For all of the thirty-somethings in the crowd, you remember it well. What you might not remember, is how TERRIBLE the acting and production of that show is/was. She covers her eyes for lots of it. Do you remember Chaka? For your sake I hope not.Noah- Had soap put in his mouth for the first time in his three years today. He is struggling to get the concept that when wrestling with his brother, he cannot bite him. Given many chances to figure it out, we've now resorted to a bar of soap in the mouth for biting.
Phoebe- Is still the easiest baby ever born. She just plays and chats and sleeps and eats.
I- Am expending tons of energy trying not to complain about my swollen fat ankles that resemble the ankles of my Grandmother's Porter and Pals ... only they were 85 when their ankles became Cankles (calf-sized ankles) and I am not yet 35 nor am I in the late months of my pregnancy. I don't accept it. But I am not complaining.
