One shoe less

Come Friday, we will have been here in Yangon for a month. I truly find that hard to believe as I feel still transitory, in motion, yet I know we have also settled a tiny bit. We know where to find yogurt and good French croissants (day two thanks to our sponsors!), how to ride in and pay for a taxi, the three major north-south and two major east-west roads in town and the all-important wisdom of always carrying a camera, bug spray, after-bite, hand sanitizer and plenty of local currency no matter where we are headed. Oh, and to always look down while walking to avoid the holes in the sidewalks that open up to another subterranean sewer level two to four feet below.

Indeed, one of those holes claimed Maiya's right Teva flip flop. It was dark and we were walking back to the appartment from a good, Euro0-style (with prices to match) pizza place. The sidewalk was dark and the random holes only shades darker or lighter, depending on the random headlights of oncoming traffic. Maiya skipped, stumbled a bit and then cried out, standing on one foot, that her shoe was gone. She cried. I gave her a piggy-back ride back home. MeiLin plotted how we might come back with a flashlight or in the morning to rescue the shoe. Maiya wimpered again for her shoe. I stated uncategorically that the shoe was gone, not to be retrieved three feet down in raw sewage, and that a shoe was minor -- it could have been Maiya's foot or whole leg. MeiLin continued to plot retrievals for days as we passed the area in cars or taxis. Maiya gained a new pair of local, harder plastic flip flops. And, I placed the order online for a new pair of Tevas.

So much, so little

All that we need for the next six weeks is in a closet. Everything else has been wrapped, boxed, padded and lugged down the crazy town home stairs and then packed into crates--most headed for a three-year storage and a few to meet us in Rangoon later.

The girls have been at the grandparents' this week, enjoying those last precious days together. We also thought it would be less disruptive for them if they didn't see their world packed up and taken away piece by piece.

We hit a zenith in possessions about 8 years ago and have been purging every move since. Yet, still we have much, too much. In fact, once it is boxed away and taken, I don't feel much need. But, put those five ink pads, 2 stamps and four books the packers missed in front of me and I feel a tug. I might need these, right? Take them away again, please, before I figure out how to squeeze them into our ridiculous luggage count.

I miss the girls and am looking forward to a week on the 40' boat with galley kitchen. All we need is right there.

Off we go, into the wild blue yonder...

I love living in our nation's capitol. There's always something going on, something to do, and most of them are FREE!

The US Air Force Band plays at the Air Force Memorial every Wednesday and Friday night from June through August. Since Heatherly was working, the girls and I took some chairs, a blanket, some bubbles and camped out under the clear, blue sky on a spectacular night with warm breezes and great music.

Now, I'm not sure if the girls really enjoyed the music. They spent most of the time blowing bubbles at each other and the kids around them. But, at least I was outside with my girls, away from the cares of the week, relaxing and walking down memory lane with the jazz band.

Great night. Looking forward to the next evening concert.

Treasures

Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things. ~ Pierce Harris

The girls and I had a father-daughter weekend. This wasn't planned; we'd signed up for the Tour de Chesapeake months ago, intending on all going. But, Heatherly was not up to biking and camping yet, so we got the girls out of school early on Friday, packed the tandem and MeiLin's bike, along with all the camping gear, and headed down the coast of Virginia to the town of Mathews.

We spent the night on the field of the local middle school in our 3-man tent. It rained and poured, and then the lightening crashed around us. While MeiLin slept through it all, Maiya and I conferred and decided the best course of action would be to make a dash for the van and wait out the lightening there. MeiLin didn't get a vote; I had to drag her out of the tent like a sack of potatoes.

But the next morning was bright and clear. After a less than stellar breakfast (or maybe it was the perception because it was served in the middle school cafeteria), we hit the road, Maiya on the back of our tandem and MeiLin on her single. The day was wonderful! Flat, back country roads, little traffic, bicyclists everywhere, sunshine and cool breezes, puddles to blaze through and splash ourselves and each other. The girls chattered endlessly about nothing the music of their silly laughter carrying us down the roads. We stopped for a rest and watched a glass blowing demonstration. We fished for tadpoles in the lilly pond. We ate snacks to strengthen us for the journey. We had lunch along the bay and explored the oyster shell beaches. Seventeen miles and four hours later, we made it back to the camp and the girls still had the energy to play on the school's playground for nearly an hour!

Next on the agenda was a movie at the local theater, complete with popcorn and drinks. With time to kill before the show started, we found a local library and hung out for a while. Post movie it was back towards Mathews and the local beach. Warm sand, warm waters and tons to explore, including the eagles nest on the pier. MeiLin found that the mucky areas of the surf reminded her of her time at the island of Juist and decided a tribute to Alt Oma (Mom's mom) was in order. If you look closely, you can see her name "Sophie" drawn in the sand. More shells, crabs, sea glass and sand - all in the setting sun's light.

Dinner that evening was in down-town Mathews, complete with a live blue-grass band - BBQ to the Orange Blossom Special. The girls broke out their scooters and I sat on the grass listening to the music, watching them zoom around, and silently thankful for time and place and peace.

I don't know what the girls will remember as they grow older. I know that I still have strong memories of events in my childhood, bits and pieces, things that just stand out and give my life a sense of stability, of place, of experience.

We did a lot this weekend. My hope is MeiLin and Maiya will have at least one thing that, in some distant future, some smell or image or sound will spark a memory...and they will smile and be silently thankful for time and place and peace.

Riding Dinosaurs

Today was a beautiful day. The girls and I hit the road since Heatherly was at a conference in DC presenting a paper. What to do, what to do. As the son of an avid planner and seeker of relevant and memorable activities for our children (thanks, mom), I'm always looking for things that will instill a cultural, historical or natural appreciation in our girls. Fat chance. The girls basically want to know if a gift shop will be involved, if we can eat out and if any snack opportunities will present themselves. Oh, and is there anything they can climb. Note to self: don't ask the kids what they want to do, just do something.

The aquarium at the Baltimore Inner Harbor was the first choice but a quick check online showed sold-out conditions on that attraction. So, I opted for a trip out to Front Royal, VA and the Skyline Caverns.

As expected, the girls were more fascinated by (1) the dirt on the floor of the cave and the cool sounds you can make when you drag your feet; (2) the ginormous gift shop complete with rude-humor bumperstickers, cheap toys and t-shirts; (3) lunch; (4) the Dragon Maze at the cave; (5) and the dinosaur statue in the park. Ah well, I guess at some point they'll begin to appreciate the things that parents expect them to. But then again, maybe we parents miss too much because we don't go and ride the dinosaurs.

Today is another beautiful day. Maybe we'll take the girls to the park and climb some trees and then go for ice cream. Simple. My new motto: ride dinosaurs.

Weighty Moments

An invitation to the White House Egg Roll - pretty special, amazingly cool, but not fully appreciated by the 100+ kids from our school today. Parents got it. Teachers got it. Kids - hmm, chatting on the bus or in the security line was a highlight of the day for many. For our girls, it was neat, but the healthy food court attracted them as much as the Egg Roll or seeing the Obama family up close (well, closer than I ever thought we would be).

Healthy or not, the food was a hit with all the kids thanks to long lines and warm sun. Two hours after breakfast and most of them want to know when they will get to eat again. The girls managed to scarf down hard-boiled eggs (complements of the Egg Roll), homemade granola, bananas, apples and fruit smoothies in the short hour. After a long race to the buses and an even longer wait in the bus for one lost chaperone/child set, we headed back to school and then on to a late lunch where the girls then consumed their packed lunches and large fruit drinks. Goodness!

Cake Pudding

Spring blasted in on us with a week of sun and warmth and then crept back to its more normal rainy self this week. The rain suits me today as we enter Passion Week before Resurrection Sunday. I grew up saying "Easter," but my short trip to Uganda taught me this new term: Resurrection Sunday.

I had forgotten until yesterday in church as a lady came in a bit late and sat next to me. She was suffering from allergies even more than I was with tissues and an inhaler and a process of excusing herself every now and then to go outside and blow her nose more loudly. After she sat down, as the kids started a processional in the aisles with their palms waving, she asked me
"Is this Resurrection Sunday?"

"No, Palm Sunday."

Easter, for those who want to know, comes from Middle English which itself comes from Old English and then goes back to Germanic Ostern, which surprising (or not?) is the name of a goddess and her festival, derived from the cardinal point east. What? I think I will use Resurrection Sunday from here out. It is obvious, in-your-face, blunt, which explains why Americans don't use the term much. Being obvious about faith isn't in favor.

Even though it is still Lent, I have been researching breads and other goodies traditionally served on Resurrection Sunday and that has made me hungry. Yesterday we made petit fours for the egg hunt at church (eggs = new life, no bunnies needed). I had leftover sponge cake cubes from that effort sitting in the fridge this morning. I had read somewhere that leftover cake could be used for bread pudding. A revelation - cake is rich bread, right? I freaked out momentarily when the cubes dissolved quicker in the custard base, but then calmed down when I saw how it all baked together. It's Monday, but Sunday is coming.

Sponge Cake Pudding
Leftover cake cubes, 4 cups (mine were roughly 1.5 inch squares--I would say 1/3 of a 9 x 13 sheet cake)

2 eggs

1/2 cup buttermilk (because I had it leftover)

1 1/2 cup milk or vanilla soy milk

3/4 cup pecans, chopped fine

1 cup frozen blackberries (from this last summer's picking--lovely!) or any kind of berry

1. Crumble the cake in a bowl. Add the pecans.

2. In a small bowl, blend the eggs, buttermilk and milk with a fork.

3. Pour the egg mixture over the cake crumbles. Add in the frozen berries and stir just until combined.

4. Pour mixture into a 9 x 9 square baking dish that has been sprayed or oiled.

5. Bake at 375 until firm and browning on top.

We enjoyed it with a spoonful of Greek vanilla yogurt on top. The younger daughter rejected the berries, but I consider that a personal preference issue.