Cookies, Rolls, and Roles
8/2/08
Today is "P" day. For the uninitiated, that's preparation day, the day that you do your non-missionary stuff like shopping, cleaning, laundry, writing letters, etc.
As I was doing the laundry, I had to smile at how we have worked our way into roles here in the mission. I am in charge of world peace, laundry, house-cleaning, garbage, repairs, and answers to computer questions about new pop-up messages that occasionally flash on Cindy's screen. She has become quite proficient at her email, organizing her 398 contacts into groups for mass email broadcasts, which is one of her biggest roles.
Cindy is in charge of the calendar, the schedule, feeding the missionaries, learning to make things from scratch (I treated this in a previous blog), her email, and the individual, personal welfare of all of our friends. I am so proud of her for learning so much in so little time with so few resources for so many hungry young missionaries and so many friends. Yesterday she made rolls from scratch and today she is making chocolate-chip cookies from scratch for the YSA fireside at our home Sunday night (I'm the lesson) and today she answered 26 emails and SKYPED an hour with our daughter . . . all on her own. Impressive.
The smile came while I was hanging up one of the 6 loads I washed this morning (they are small because of our washer's limitations (see previous blog), but it allows me to dust, polish the credenza (which is in need of new varnish. . . maybe next week), wash windows and sills, vacuum, mop the linoleum which is not glued to the cement floor, repair the digital thermometer, clean the toilet closet, and work on world peace in between wash cycles (fill, wash, drain, spin, fill, rinse, drain, spin, and hang up). While working on world peace at the dryer rack, Cindy brought me another spoonful of leftover pink-yogurt & fruit jello she made from scratch last night for the missionaries and their investigator family. It was funnier then, thinking about it, than it is writing about it hours later, but I just had to put it down on "paper" so to speak. Here I was in my role and she in hers.
Just as a side light, I want to mention for the record that both of us are loosing a little less than 1/2 pound a day with remarkable consistency. I have lost 23 pounds since leaving Sacramento and Cindy has lost almost as much. If this trend continues, I may have to buy new suits by winter and she will be able to get into the coat that was given to her by a departing senior missionary. I hope to taper off at 180 and hold for the winter. I feel better and I can tie my shoes without having to hold my breath. How about a little encouragement from the audience?
My big adventure today was going, all by myself, down to the dumpsters on the street with my 4 bags of garbage. I made it there and back without mishap, although I did linger to evaluate a wooden window frame that was leaned against the dumpster, minus the glass. I was thinking how I could use the wood for project raw materials until I recognized the 1966 vintage of asbestos hanging from it's posterior and thought better of it. When I got upstairs, Cindy was waiting to give me a big "well-done" hug. First for making it down and back, and second for not bringing the window frame (62" x 48") back with me. She had been secretly watching me like mom's do when their charges are doing something challenging (another of her roles). I enjoyed the hug and the praise.
One of my garbage bags was the usual household assortment of stuff, but the other three were the result of cleaning out the last vestiges of the landlady's personal junk. The closet, just to the right of the last of the three security doors (as you enter) was a black hole, sucking in everything that wasn't nailed down that she didn't know what to do with but couldn't throw away. It is now clean (moped) orderly, and sans 3 bags of stuff she couldn't part with, but I could.
I am now eying the doorbell as my next project. I think the problem is a broken wire, but I'm not sure. The original doorbell button in the hall was set afire by some vandals, probably early teen boys with bics, during a former missionary's occupancy and a new one was installed, but it never worked. I'll get on it next P-day while I'm waiting for the wash to spin and working on world peace.
What a country
DS
8/2/08
Today is "P" day. For the uninitiated, that's preparation day, the day that you do your non-missionary stuff like shopping, cleaning, laundry, writing letters, etc.
As I was doing the laundry, I had to smile at how we have worked our way into roles here in the mission. I am in charge of world peace, laundry, house-cleaning, garbage, repairs, and answers to computer questions about new pop-up messages that occasionally flash on Cindy's screen. She has become quite proficient at her email, organizing her 398 contacts into groups for mass email broadcasts, which is one of her biggest roles.
Cindy is in charge of the calendar, the schedule, feeding the missionaries, learning to make things from scratch (I treated this in a previous blog), her email, and the individual, personal welfare of all of our friends. I am so proud of her for learning so much in so little time with so few resources for so many hungry young missionaries and so many friends. Yesterday she made rolls from scratch and today she is making chocolate-chip cookies from scratch for the YSA fireside at our home Sunday night (I'm the lesson) and today she answered 26 emails and SKYPED an hour with our daughter . . . all on her own. Impressive.
The smile came while I was hanging up one of the 6 loads I washed this morning (they are small because of our washer's limitations (see previous blog), but it allows me to dust, polish the credenza (which is in need of new varnish. . . maybe next week), wash windows and sills, vacuum, mop the linoleum which is not glued to the cement floor, repair the digital thermometer, clean the toilet closet, and work on world peace in between wash cycles (fill, wash, drain, spin, fill, rinse, drain, spin, and hang up). While working on world peace at the dryer rack, Cindy brought me another spoonful of leftover pink-yogurt & fruit jello she made from scratch last night for the missionaries and their investigator family. It was funnier then, thinking about it, than it is writing about it hours later, but I just had to put it down on "paper" so to speak. Here I was in my role and she in hers.
Just as a side light, I want to mention for the record that both of us are loosing a little less than 1/2 pound a day with remarkable consistency. I have lost 23 pounds since leaving Sacramento and Cindy has lost almost as much. If this trend continues, I may have to buy new suits by winter and she will be able to get into the coat that was given to her by a departing senior missionary. I hope to taper off at 180 and hold for the winter. I feel better and I can tie my shoes without having to hold my breath. How about a little encouragement from the audience?
My big adventure today was going, all by myself, down to the dumpsters on the street with my 4 bags of garbage. I made it there and back without mishap, although I did linger to evaluate a wooden window frame that was leaned against the dumpster, minus the glass. I was thinking how I could use the wood for project raw materials until I recognized the 1966 vintage of asbestos hanging from it's posterior and thought better of it. When I got upstairs, Cindy was waiting to give me a big "well-done" hug. First for making it down and back, and second for not bringing the window frame (62" x 48") back with me. She had been secretly watching me like mom's do when their charges are doing something challenging (another of her roles). I enjoyed the hug and the praise.
One of my garbage bags was the usual household assortment of stuff, but the other three were the result of cleaning out the last vestiges of the landlady's personal junk. The closet, just to the right of the last of the three security doors (as you enter) was a black hole, sucking in everything that wasn't nailed down that she didn't know what to do with but couldn't throw away. It is now clean (moped) orderly, and sans 3 bags of stuff she couldn't part with, but I could.
I am now eying the doorbell as my next project. I think the problem is a broken wire, but I'm not sure. The original doorbell button in the hall was set afire by some vandals, probably early teen boys with bics, during a former missionary's occupancy and a new one was installed, but it never worked. I'll get on it next P-day while I'm waiting for the wash to spin and working on world peace.
What a country
DS
1 comment:
Doug & Cindy: I love your division of jobs! What a country! And all that you report. It is great to be able to somewhat experience your mission with you. Your writing is so descriptive and fun. What a country! What wonderful experiences and memories you are having. Keep it up. Marilyn
Post a Comment