That's Gonna Hurt!!

At times Mike comes up with quips that completely crack me up. Like the day we were groping our way around Rome trying to find our way to the Metro. He must have been thinking about our upcoming senior mission (although at the time we had no idea where we would be assigned) and he remarked, "You know, in a foreign country it's really helpful to know the difference between the signs that read 'Bathroom' and the ones that say 'Danger! High Voltage!'"

That reminded me of nearly being run over in Germany a few years ago while walking next to a sign that read "Ausgang". I'm a quick study, so I figured out right away that means "exit-cars will run over you". Well noted, once my breathing resumed its normal pace. So, when in Germany I pay close attention to ausgang, and eingang (entrance-meaning they hit you coming in, not going out).

Thankfully, I read a little more Spanish now than I can speak. Of course this isn't always a comforting thing. The first thing I saw upon arriving at my hotel in Venezuela in 1994 was a large graffiti sign on the side of the building next to the hotel that read, "No mas muerte!!", which means, if you know the really important words in Spanish, no more murder. That little piece of information I would have slept better not knowing, especially given one of our first days in the hospital a man was brought in with severe machete wounds from an assault, which caused his death. Our daughter Amanda was with us on that mission and she was up on the 5th floor surgical wing when the Americans tried to save his life. What a harsh, real-life experience for a sixteen year old girl!  Despite a few harrowing situations, as a family we learned an enormous amount from the medical missions we participated in with Operation Smile and Children's Surgery International.  We gained a tremendous education in Venezuela, Peru, Ghana and Haiti-the kind you simply cannot get in a classroom.

We tend to take America with us wherever we go and think that we can parade around without any cares. Not so. When we were driving the Ring of Kerry in Ireland our tour guide told folks, "Remember: Traffic is coming at you from the opposite direction that you're used to in the U.S. Look over your right shoulder for oncoming traffic, not your left. One of our fellow travelers was nearly run over by an oncoming car when she momentarily forgot.   I'm so grateful for all the years we have hosted tours for Holiday Vacations. Not only have we made terrific friends, but we have had a mini college history course in each country we've visited thanks to the in-country guides. All of this experience makes me so much more prepared for the chicken buses in Guatemala, another way to suffer an ignominious death if you're not attentive.

Quetzaltenango Looms Large

Hopefully, I numbered and cataloged the boxes in storage well, because Mike is out in the cold garage going through boxes in search of the router password we need. It couldn't be a KitchenAid mixer we're looking for. No...it had to be an itty bitty password. That little piece of information will, believe it or not, enable us to keep our U.S. phone number and call home very inexpensively on both our Guatemalan phone and our cell phones. We love you, Vonage! Plus, we are very indebted to our technically-gifted sons who help us when things become complicated. Mike is very skillful with computers, but these guys are experts.

We received word from Pres. Bautista, our mission president, that we will need to ship a printer for our computer, plus bed linens. Since a large priority USPS box costs $60 to ship, we figure we're in for some major expense. I'll pay for it with the money I'll save not idling my car in the bitter Minnesota cold this winter.

We've pared down most of our earthly possessions and are packing the last dozen boxes, plus studying Spanish every spare moment. Sterling, our Spanish tutor from the LDS Mission Training Center, didn't laugh much when I told him I called my Latina friend, "chica de vide alegre", which in my dictionary is a party girl. I didn't think much about his response until my Latina friend (possibly ex friend) told me this term implies "prostitute". So, I'm not only scoring low marks in Spanish; I'm also scoring low marks in friendship. I have a hunch a lot of apologies will be made before I master the language. Keep your sense of humor-it's critical.

Tornadoes, Floods, Robberies and Infestations…What Next?

Tornadoes always happen to someone else, right? Not so much. In May the tornado that hit North Minneapolis wreaked havoc at our daughter Jen’s home, sending her 100 year- old silver maple onto the roof. We were aptly warned that repairs would take a considerable period of time, given the number of homes damaged.

By mid August the tree was removed, the interior repairs nearly complete and the roof next on the contractor’s to-do list. Problem was, he removed a handful of shingles from the roof and the tarp that covered it failed in a downpour the next day. Water poured through the roof and the house was flooded with more than 70 gallons of water on all three floors. As a consequence, her upper floor had to be completely redone and a massive amount of clean-up on the other two floors ensued. We were beginning to think this was the never ending home repair.

About that time Mike and our son Jon had just finished the repairs on Jon’s Crystal home to make it up to code for a rental license. Jon, Jess and Brynn were making plans to move into our home to care for it while we were on our mission. Jon got a call from the tenant a week after he moved in to say a daytime robbery had taken place by some neighborhood thugs. Mike and Jon spent the afternoon with the Crystal Crime Lab, followed by clean-up and window replacement.

Here on the home front, I was trying to tackle the ant infestation. The doggone grease ants that had been a nuisance in different locations all summer turned my kitchen into a war zone. Since I’m insecticide averse, they struck in the worst possible place-my food cupboards. I removed the food, having to toss much of it in the garbage. Then I gave Mike my blessing to spray at will. The fact that the insecticide didn’t have an odor really unnerved me, but not as much as the sorry little buggers I found smooshed in the can of Crisco and hiding for cover in the raisins. Ick!!

All right, since you asked, I’ll tell you what was next. Steve’s youngest son Sammy has a rare autoimmune disorder that prevents his body from absorbing calcium. He’s utterly fearless, and in a fall from the front seat of their Pilot to the floor in the back, he broke both wrist bones in his right arm. A week later his left hand was severely burned by a careless marshmallow roaster.

And did I mention nearly being run over by a motor scooter in Rome a few weeks ago?

I’m sleeping with one eye open.