Life Around the Table

For a while, I was going through a dry spell with reading. I hardly read anything except cooking blogs and then only scanned through recipe after recipe. Then I house-sat and couldn't get the Wifi password to work. You might call this a saving grace. Besides hosting several groups of people, I also re-discovered my normal hankering for reading. My housemate asked me tonight: "How many books do you normally have checked out from the library?" Without hesitation, I answered, "About 30." Many are fated to only ever sit in stacks on my desk, bookshelf, and nightstand, but, if a book is lucky, I'll actually read it.

Such was the case with a new book called Bread and Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table by Shauna Niequist. I just finished the book today and loved every sentence of it. Shauna, if possible, loves food even more than I do. It was a comfort to read the book and know that I'm not the only one in the world whose love of food veers towards obsessive. (Just ask my friend who went with me to Trader Joe's yesterday.) Better than that, Shauna grounds food and meals solidly in the living out of a faithful Christian life. You don't have to be a foodie to do this. In fact, I have a friend who hates cooking. But when it was her turn to host the Children's Ministry Committee from church, she made us a wonderful waffle, bacon and egg meal. Whether or not she enjoyed putting it together, there's no doubt that the meal unified us and prepared us for the discussion and prayer portion of our meeting.

Bread and Wine is full of stories from Shauna's life. Most of the stories were things I could relate to whole-heartedly and have experienced numerous times in cooking: spontaneity, inconvenience, unexpected mistakes and successes both, meaningful conversation, working-with-what-you-have meals, and simple, memory-evoking pleasures. Shauna also made it clear that it's okay for meals prepared for other people to be flawed. Perfection isn't the goal; fellowship is. I was comforted by this. I've often had friends over for dinner and have been more concerned with how something I cooked turned out than with the people at my table. Besides, what's life without a little imperfection anyway? It's why we try again (and again and again).

I always have cooking experiences from which I can draw useful spiritual lessons. One in particular stands out from recent weeks: making baklava with my friend Janie. She was making two trays of baklava for two different events, and I'd always wanted to make it. I came over to her house one Wednesday evening, and we got to work. After melting something like seven sticks of butter, we unrolled bundles of filo dough, impossibly thin and delicate. Following the complex instructions carefully, we layered the filo dough and brushed it liberally with the melted butter. Every once in a while, we'd spread a pecan-sugar mixture in between the layers. In the middle of the directions, we realized that we were going to run out of filo dough. Fortunately, mishap though it was, no one will ever know that we used 20 sheets of filo instead of 30.

When all the layers were assembled, it took us a good 15 minutes to score the baklava into narrow diamonds, so the honey-sugar syrup could soak into every crevice. By this time, it was nearly 9 PM, and I had to work the next morning, so I didn't get to help Janie complete the baklava. However, at work the next day, I had a visitor stop by with a package:

 

 

Biting into the honey-soaked squares of baklava made the work of the night before worth it. Actually, I take that back. Walking around my office and sharing squares of the baklava with my co-workers made it worth it. It was seeing my co-workers' eyes light up and hearing the crackle of the baked filo dough as they took a bite that made the often inconvenient work of making the baklava worth the effort. It's a tactile way of connecting one person to another. It's a blessed sharing and receiving.  

 

Shauna writes: "This is what I want you to do: I want you to tell someone you love them, and dinner's at six. I want you to throw open your front door and welcome the people you love into the inevitable mess with hugs and laughter. I want you to light a burner on the stove, to chop and stir and season with love and abandon...Gather the people you love around your table and feed them with love and honesty and creativity. Feed them with your hands and the flavors and smells that remind you of home and beauty and the best stories you've ever heard, the best stories you've ever lived."

 

All I can say to that is: "Amen!" Go and do likewise.

January's Getting to Me

I heard radio announcers say earlier this week that Monday was supposed to be the lowest emotional day of the winter. Christmas is over, credit card bills are arriving in mailboxes, the days are short, the sky is gray, and spring is still months away. I don't usually suffer from the winter blues given my rather obsessive appreciation of the seasons, but January caught up to me this week.

In weeks previous, I've had plenty to keep me occupied, friends from college visiting, Owl City songs, and discovering a delicious pumpkin chocolate chip muffin recipe being the chief pleasures. However, reality started to catch up to me this week. Two of my housemates are moving out in the next couple weeks and we don't have new housemates lined up (partly due to my neglient procrastination). This certainly brings an increased financial burden; however, it's the lack of companionship I'm particularly mourning this week. One housemate especially has been a good friend for over five years and made my transition to Whitworth as a freshman infinitely easier and more fun. I pondered this reality--the soon-to-be lack of companionship reality--as I walked to my car after work this week under a steel-gray sky.

On Thursday night, I came home from work feeling noticeably tired. The rest of the week, I had been taking walks in the evenings around the neighborhood, but I simply didn't want to walk on Thursday evening. Instead, I ate my leftover Caramelized Red Onion, Prosiutto, and Goat Cheese pizza and watched Northanger Abbey. On Friday, I was home by 3:30 PM and knew I needed to take a walk to take advantage of the daylight. I hadn't had anything planned outside of work this week, which was refreshing for the introvert in me, but I was getting to be a little too introspective for my own good. I needed a fresh perspective on life and walking seems to be good for that.

I called my parents, to whom I often speak when on walks, but they were about to go out for a walk themselves. I wavered briefly in my resolve, but shook off my hesitation, jammed my feet into my boots and set off. In the daylight, I love walking in the large, hilly, open space behind Whitworth known as the Back 40. I trudged through the snow at the beginning of the walk, disgruntled and sulky. But the more I walked and breathed in the vibrant fresh air, the more relaxed I became. The open space of the Back 40, uncluttered by houses and trees, the nippy air, the crunching snow all did something to untangle my thoughts and soothe my rumpled spirit.

The funny thing about walking by myself is that I seldom think about anything profound. I don't usually have epiphanies about personal problems or take advantage of the time to pray for friends and family as they come to mind. Walking is a way to just be. In fact, the only epiphanies I usually have involve God.

I walked farther yesterday than I have in a while. I walked up the hill to Whitworth, through the campus, and came back down the other side of the Back 40, a distance of two miles. On my way across the upper Back 40 to start my descent into the neighborhood, I was suddenly struck by the difference in perspective from the top of the hill. The slushy mess of snow on the streets below faded, and I could even see a hint of blue sky. At the time, I didn't connect my walk to any spiritual revelation, but as I think back on it now, it seems that the change in perspective from the top of the hill was most striking because I could see more clearly where I had been before on my walk.

In the midst of the grayness of January and the unsettled roommate situation, my walk gave me a gift. It gave me the perspective to see that I have the choice to trust that at some point in the future, I will be able to see from the mountaintop what I couldn't see in the valley. This perspective, while it doesn't make me particularly happy or change the reality of my situation, does give me hope. And hope is a wonderful thing to have in the slushy cold of January.

Christmas 2012

It was so good to be home for Christmas. And when Elizabeth gets a cookbook, you know things are going to be good. :)

I flew to Portland in the morning on Friday, December 21. My friend Lorry picked me up, and we drove to Molalla to visit Lorry's husband's aunts. Lorry makes a delicious cardamom bread at Christmas, so we delivered two of the loaves to the two aunts and chatted with each of them for a bit. The countryside around Portland is so beautiful. Lorry and I talked a blue streak, and continued our time together at a Middle Eastern restaurant called Selma's in Gresham.

My dad picked me up at Lorry's house, and we drove to a place to pick out new glasses for my dad. The employee who was helping choose glasses for my dad was quite unique. She was very petite and couldn't sit still, like she'd just consumed five cups of coffee. She'd sit on the rolling chair at the desk and two seconds later would pop up, long black skirt swinging, and dodge here and there, pulling glasses off the display cases. My dad must've tried on 15 pairs. If anyone's read the Mitford novels by Jan Karon, this woman reminded me of Fancy Skinner, the hairdresser; a carbon copy!

On Saturday, my sister, mom, and I spent most of the day at my grandpa's Christmas tree farm. It was fun to spend time with my sister, and we had the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch with artisan bread made by Lorry.

Julie and I left the tree farm at 2:30, and I drove to Vancouver to spend time with Tyler and Lydia Thralls, good friends of mine from Whitworth. Tyler and Lydia have befriended a Chinese exchange student at WSU-Vancouver and so they had invited this student and three of his friends over for dinner. Tyler made a bean/rice/ground beef African meal that was delicious.

We went to church on Sunday morning and then prepared for the Christmas party at my aunt and uncle's house with my mom's extended family. We ate dinner together and had a gift exchange of homemade items, which worked out surprisingly well. People were quite creative with what they made, and we had a good amount of stealing. My grandpa's homemade gift was two paper airplanes! There were lots of cookies in the exchange, too. In case we hadn't consumed of my aunt's homemade egg nog. :)

On Christmas Eve, I spent the morning with my friend, Ruth, and her family, whom I've known since my sophomore year of high school. Her dad, in his hospitable way, tried very hard to get me to drink a cup of coffee, but I valiantly resisted. I did happily consume a mug of hot cocoa made by Ruth's ninth-grade brother, who had grown about three feet taller since the last time I saw him. :)

My family went to the Christmas Eve service at Greater Gresham Baptist at 3 PM. The theme of the service was Light in the Darkness, and they had a beautiful narrated play about the themes of light and darkness in Scripture. It was very moving.

This is the first Christmas Eve/Day that we haven't had an extended-family party. Instead, a good family friend, Claudia, came over for dinner Christmas Eve and again on Christmas Day. Claudia's husband and son were both away for the holiday for work, so it was a great pleasure to have her at our house; she's family.

On Christmas Eve night, we had individual homemade pizzas that were delicious (much to Julie's surprise), and then played Taboo together. On Christmas day, we woke up and opened our stockings and then had these:

 

They're called Pull-Aparts and it's our Thanksgiving and Christmas morning breakfast every year. They are SO good that I had to have one for breakfast again on Wednesday morning as my mom drove me to the airport. :) We always take a photo, too, of us getting ready to scarf down several pull-aparts apiece. I think this was the weirdest one yet, but I love it! Then, we opened presents. Here's one choice photo:

 

Contrary to the box above, this was actually a gift certificate from Julie to my dad. :)

 

After presents, I set my roll dough to rising and my mom, dad, and I took a walk around the lake in a drenching rain. My dad and I raced the last block, my dad narrating as though we were horses in the Kentucky Derby. Claudia came with a honey-baked ham for a mid-afternoon feast. We rounded out the meal with my Walnut Potato rolls, cooked broccoli, pineapple, and twice-baked potatoes with cheese. It was absolutely delicious!

 

Before and after dinner, we exchanged presents with Claudia. The four of us had each gotten her a gift, and she got us each a gift. It was so fun! We laughed so much, as some of the gifts were inside jokes, such as the ones above. I thought it was clever that Claudia had wrapped my and my mom's gifts in "nice" paper, Julie's in nice and naughty (because we're not sure which she is), and my dad's in naughty paper. I suppose in reality, though, we're all a mix of both. :) 

 

 

We ended the day at Claudia's house with yummy frosted sugar cookies and hot cocoa. We watched the animated Grinch and Home Alone. It was a delightful, peaceful end to a fun-filled day. I am so blessed by the friends and family God has given me. May we faithfully thank God every day of the year in light of all the good gifts God bestows, especially the most precious gift of Emmanuel, God With Us.

Happy New Year!

Friday Adventures

This morning, I came upstairs to fry some sausages for a Bible study breakfast and gasped. Snow. Pure white, cold snow covered the back deck and traced the image of the trees in the early morning sky. Good thing I was planning to get my snow tires on today. Fortunately, the roads weren't slippery. I made it to Bible Study and then to work.

After work, I jetted over to Les Schwab to get my regular tires traded out for my snow tires. I told the woman at the desk my mission. She told me candidly: "The wait will be nine hours." Nine hours!!

"You could come back at 7 tomorrow morning or try another time. First come, first serve," she said. "Or you could wait."

Smell that strange tire-y, rubber-y smell until midnight, six hours after they closed? I pictured myself locked in a dark Les Schwab with only popcorn for sustenance. No, thank you.

"I'll come back another day."

I walked to my car, my plans for the afternoon dashed. I hopped in my car and figured I might as well make my Costco run now, as it's two blocks down the road. As I walked into Costco, I was still shocked at the wait time, so I just wandered around aimlessly until I came across a lady with warm cinnamon roll samples.

"These came from the package right over there," she said.

I hovered. "Wow," I said. "These are really good; and they're warm."

"I warm them in my oven here," the lady said, looking at me like I'd just crawled out from under a rock. Not even Costco can sell pre-warmed muffins to the general consumer.

I next collected a rosemary cracker with Brie, a Breton cracker with blue cheese, and a Dixie cup with vanilla ice cream. For a sweet tooth, I really lucked out. Les Schwab can always take the backseat to warm cinnamon roll samples. Realizing my weakness, I grabbed my toilet paper and Life cereal and booked it out of there. Despite their gooey deliciousness, I did not want to come home with a pan of cinnamon rolls for dinner. (I had already had a piece of peanut butter pie for lunch.)

After a stop at the library, I drove to my mentor's house where I had a garden this summer and pulled up the last of my harvest: globe carrots. I pulled them up fast and shoved the dirty, cold carrots with snowy tops into a plastic grocery bag.

Then I drove home, and I ate a carrot. It was great. I love Friday nights. The weekend is my oyster.

And that's the end of my story. Sorry for the anticlimactic ending. I'm afraid the good part of the story is in the middle with the cinnamon rolls. :) But I will leave you with a couple pictures and well wishes for a wonderful weekend!

Happy New Year!

Yes, I know. It’s been longer than a week. It’s been two and a half weeks, to be precise. Forgive me. :o)

I had a blessed time at home with friends and family. God has blessed me so richly. I had a wonderful time with my immediate family, lots of laughs and good conversations. Here’s a picture of Christmas morning. We’re eating our traditional pull aparts—bread dough, brown sugar, butterscotch pudding mix, butter, cinnamon; how can you go wrong?

Not sure why I thought I should smile in this picture instead of look ravenously hungry like the rest of my family. Perhaps I subconsciously knew that I planned to put the picture on this blog. :o)

I flew back to Spokane early Wednesday morning so that I could be at work by 9 a.m. I made it on time and worked full days on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to make up for being gone. I am so thankful that I was able to take time off and still make up the time. Another gift of God while I’m working part time.

 

On Saturday, I picked up two friends at the airport who will be spending a month at Tall Timber Ranch for a class called Christian Spirituality with Jerry Sittser. I did this same class exactly three years ago, so we had a lovely time on New Year’s Eve, me remembering my trip and Amy and Christina looking forward to theirs. Maybe I’ll write a post about my time at Tall Timber. You actually live out a semi-monastic routine for the month and have no access to technology. It was a wonderful and challenging experience. Amy, Christina, and I had a progressive dinner that evening. We had delicious, garlicky tomato bruschetta at Christina’s house, cheese fondue and a sparkling strawberry drink at Amy’s, and apple dumplings at my house. It was a lovely way to usher in the New Year.

I have had the chance to host several groups of people in the past week, which I love to do. On Thursday night (12/29), I had four college friends over whose families live in and around the Spokane area. Three of the four are in grad school, so I don’t get to see them very often. For lunch on Sunday, my dear friends Tyler and Lydia Thralls came to my house to top off a quick weekend trip to Spokane from Vancouver, WA. On Monday night, I had Jerry, Mary Jane, Angela, and Jessica Leonardi to my house for dinner and dessert. Angela and Jessica are friends from Whitworth and their parents, Jerry and Mary Jane, live in Hayden, near Coeur d’Alene. I am so blessed to have hosted these friends at my house, and it reminded me how much I love to have people over for meals. I would like to have more people over in 2012.

Speaking of goals for the new year, I would like to write some of my goals down here. You don’t necessarily have to keep me accountable, but it’s just rather nice to have one’s goals written out. I would love to hear what some of your goals are for this new and blessed year. Please share them with me! Here are mine:

1.     Keep to my budget. I am thankful to have a budget (thanks Mom and Jules!) because it gives me boundaries for spending and saving, as well as the freedom to learn generosity and frugality both.*  It will be a new challenge this year, but one to which I’m looking forward.

2.     Walk at least 30 minutes 5-6 days a week. I would also like to do Pilates and strength training on a semi-regular basis, but we’ll see if that happens… :o)

3.     Eat as many fruits and vegetables as possible. Eat local as much as possible.

4.     Establish a rhythm of devotional reading and prayer. I’m not sure what this looks like yet, but I would like to incorporate Scripture, hymns, and liturgy (including prayers) into my devotions.

5.     Read at least two books a month, fiction or nonfiction. Since college, I’ve been reading mostly cookbooks. I need to get back into more rigorous reading. :o)

6.     Keep up with friends and family. Ask questions. Listen well. Pray for them regularly.

7.     Most of all, I want all these things to be bathed in the love and life given to us by Jesus Christ. I want each resolution to stem from a deep-seated desire to honor God with every choice I make, big or small. And I want to know Christ’s mercy when I mess up.  

*Frugality means to be prudent in saving, the lack of wastefulness. I think I have a negative connotation with the word, but it’s actually a positive word. It strikes me as a way to be a good and generous steward.

I want to leave you with a New Year’s hymn from “The One Year Book of Hymns.” May the Lord Jesus Christ bless you and keep you in this New Year. 

Another year of mercies,

Of faithfulness and grace;
Another year of gladness
In the shining of Thy face;
Another year of leaning
Upon Thy loving breast;
Another year of trusting,
Of quiet, happy rest. 

Another year of service,

Of witness for Thy love;
Another year of training
For holier work above.
Another year is dawning:
Dear Father, let it be,
On earth or else in heaven,
Another year for Thee.
 
-Frances Ridley Havergal

A Report from Portland

It's been a long time since I've written, primarily because I was at home in Portland for nine days. Going home was a vacation for me. I got to walk with my parents around Fairview Lake and eat dinners with my family, visit my grandpa's farm and catch up with old friends. Here are a couple highlights from my time at home:

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Disclaimer: A lot of them have to do with food. Sorry, I know I write about food a lot, but I can't help it. :o) Be encouraged, though: where there is food in my life, people are not far away. Food always serves a greater purpose.

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1) Before I set off for Portland, I hand picked and froze enough pie cherries for one pie. My intention was to make my grandpa a pie the first Sunday I was home. I was rewarded with a compliment from my uncle Dave: "That's the best looking pie I've seen in a long time." Besides the fact that the pie looked and tasted good, I was able to bless my uncles Dave and Don, aunt Rox, grandpa Dave, and my mom with pieces of pie at an impromptu family meeting. It's so good to spend time with family. The other great thing about this pie was that I had enough leftover crust to save for later, even though I didn't know how I would use it. On Thursday of that same week, I needed a dinner idea and whipped out that crust for a delicious summer quiche. I am thankful it worked so well.

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2) I appreciated having time with several good friends and immediate family. There's something lovely about living day-to-day life around the same people, even if one such person makes you listen to New York Yankee updates every day. It's fun to share the simple things that happen. On Thursday evening, my whole family drove out to a farm between Gresham and Sandy to pick blueberries. We had lots of laughs, especially about the difference between my and my mom's quick style of picking berries compared with my dad and sister who only choose the biggest and most beautiful. Let's just say, it's not because of them that I now have eight gallon Ziploc bags of blueberries in my freezer in Spokane. :o)

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3) I had a couple doctor's appointments over the week. In July, I experienced three major headaches that had all the symptoms of a migraine. Yuck. My primary care doctor ordered some lab work and an appointment with a neurologist in early September. We did find out through the lab work that I have low iron, which might be contributing to how tired I've felt recently. But we won't know anything else until after the neurologist appointment on September 1. I would appreciate your prayers for this. It can be scary.

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4) Finally, I spent Friday and Saturday with two dear Whitworth friends, who are now Tyler and Lydia Thralls. They were married in Yacolt, WA, on Saturday, and I had the honor of being a bridesmaid. The wedding was beautiful in so many ways, primarily because of the Christ-centeredness of the rehearsal dinner, ceremony, and reception. What an honor to be with friends on their wedding day! My parents still think of their wedding with joy. I look forward to twenty years hence when Tyler, Lydia, and I reflect back on Saturday with the same joy. I must say, too, how thankful I am to my family for coming to all three weddings I was in this summer. They patiently waited for me through every reception and debriefed it all with me. Especially notable was my dad staying hours later at Lydia's wedding than he might have otherwise AND, to top it off, missing a Yankee game. :o) Thanks for your sacrifice, Dad. You, Mom, and Jules are the best!

Thanks to you, also, for sacrificing time to read my blog. I hope it's not a sacrifice, but rather edifying each and every time. Here's my edifying thought for the day:

I was reminded today that to put my trust in earthly things, whether it be an institution, relationship, or possession, is to be foolish. Today I was rendered a fool by my faith in an institution. It's not that the organization ceases to do good things or be an agent of God's Kingdom work. Rather, I was forced to remember that even the best of earthly things fall short. Our trust should be in God alone. Easier said than done. It's hard to know how to live this out practically, but I do know that God goes before me into tomorrow to give me the grace to make my trust in him true. God is so, so good. We can't even fathom the depth of His goodness for His people.

Here's a prayer to take away: "Ever-loving God, your care for us is greater even than a mother's love for her child; teach us to value a mother's love and see in it an expression of your grace, that we may ever feel more deeply your love for us in Christ Jesus our Savior. Amen."

God bless you.

Car Shops and Sushi

I have two main stories to tell in this blog, one from home and one from Spokane. Last Wednesday (6/22), I drove home to participate in some wedding activities (Bridesmaid Tea, Rehearsal and Rehearsal dinner, and wedding) of a good friend from my home church, Cassie Shaw (now Cassie Plucknett). It was so good to be home and spend time with family and friends. I had a lovely couple hours with my grandpa at his farm on Thursday and enjoyed my graduation party on Sunday. Thanks to all the friends and family who were able to make it to my party. I am so grateful for your support in my life!

On Friday, my dad wanted me to take my car to a shop in north Portland for a tune-up. I invited my friend Ruth Benzar to join me. We were at the shop by 9 a.m. on Friday. I expected that we'd be done by noon, if not sooner. "What are you planning to do while you wait?" The shop owner asked us. "We'll probably take a walk," I answered. "It'd better be a long walk," he said. "We don't expect to be done until 2 or 3 p.m." I was shocked, as I'm sure Ruth was, too. We left the shop and sat outside a nearby Starbucks, trying to decide what to do. In a burst of inspiration, we decided to walk to the University of Portland, Ruth's school, though we really had no idea how long it would take. What did it matter? We had all day.

After setting off in the direction of UP, we happened upon New Seasons, an upscale grocery store with tons of organic, ethnic, and whole grain food. Not paradise, per se, but something very close! We wandered through the store for a good half hour before deciding to buy our lunch here. We bought two freshly-baked rolls, a big yellow heirloom tomato, hummus, and a pint of Oregon strawberries. The walk to UP seemed long, especially because we were hungry. And I really think it was a long walk, perhaps six miles round trip. Halfway to UP, we got a call from Stan.

"Okay, your car is ready to go, Miss Brink."

10:52 a.m.

"Umm...we're a couple miles from the shop. Can the car hang out there for a couple hours?"

After his "yes," I hung up the phone and told Ruth the news. We were properly outraged. The folly of people! But soon we were able to see our situation in a better light. We resolved to continue our walk to UP, where we enjoyed our lunch immensely. And, as usually happens, the walk back to the shop didn't seem nearly as long. We were pleasantly full and had yet much to discuss and talk through. We retrieved my car and set off, an adventure under our belt that we couldn't have anticipated. Who knew that Stan the maintenance man was also a prophet? We had indeed had a long walk!

That's a rather long story, but the second story is too fresh in my mind to not write about. If you're bored, save the next story for another day. :o)

Today was June's FIRED lunch at work. (See the previous post for an explanation.) The elected choice was Wasabi Bistro, a sushi place on Division and Hawthorne. I've had sushi once before and enjoyed it, so I was excited to try it a second time.

I ended up sitting by Bob Bowen, Bob Savage, and Jon Lewis, a VP, a long-time PI employee, and the president of PI, respectively. I ordered a Philadelphia roll, which is sushi with smoked salmon, avocado, and cream cheese. My plate came with eight tidy sushi rolls and a pair of chopsticks. Everyone else at the table picked up their chopsticks with confidence and began to eat. I had a choice before me. I could fake chopstick confidence or look like a total novice. I decided to look like what I was and admitted my ineptitude to the three men.

I was promptly shown three different ways to hold my chopsticks by Bob, Jon, and Robert Huggins. I rotated back and forth between the methods, not wanting to offend anyone. I was actually able to manuever pretty well. But I did not want to put the whole sushi roll in my mouth at once. I was sure it would be a disaster. However, these men would have nothing of it. All of them have traveled in Japan and China and assured me that slurping noodles, chipmunk cheeks, and the like are common sights. They wouldn't continue eating until I had downed my roll. I did. They applauded. As I thought about it later, I figured this was a pretty good way to develop humility, all things considered. :o)

The only other mishap during lunch was that I swallowed an ice cube by mistake. My face must have looked ghastly because I thought Jon was going to freak out. But there was no real cause for alarm. Fortunately, I felt better when Bob Savage admitted that when he had eaten wasabi (a VERY spicy paste) for the first time, he hadn't known it was hot and so ate the whole ball of it on his plate. He claimed that he went unconscious for a full minute and saw bright lights. In light of this, I'd swallow an ice cube any day. :o)

Other than that, I had a delightful lunch. It was so fun to get to know people better and feel comfortable with them. Thanks God! And thanks to you for reading both stories.

Wishing you a blessed Fourth of July weekend! May it be fun and restful!