Another nutty day

Another Nutty Day

My boss is sick, all our help leaves by 1:30, leaving me to run the store. It's going to be a long day...

Working like a dog

I'm working extra hours

to make up for the week I'm missing in August, and a long weekend I'm taking in July. Long days. And tonight is Bible study until nine.

Further Affiliation with Wycliffe

Further Affiliation

I am officially on the committee for the Wycliffe Dinner Theater First Presbyterian Church performance. I think my official duties will be congregation spokesperson, host home, and overall information for the people arranging housing, servers and dishwashers. I'm really glad I get to help out where I can.

Maybe I can convince the homestays not to give them standwitches and fried eggs.

No move in sight

Well, as it turns out...

We don't have to move out and tear up the shop just yeat. Roto Rooter seems to have taken care of the problem, and we were able to spend last night in our own apartments. I've messed up my back again, so lugging the cats up and down stairs was not going to be high on my list of fun.

I'm reading an interesting book on "Rich Christians in a hungry world" or something like it. The statistics in part one are boring. Not that they aren't good to know, but I've read other books that covered them, and put them into context, etc, without going into GNP. The second part is the biblical basis for his worldview. A good skim, though I intend to go back and read it. And the third part is the practical application, what organizations do what, etc. I intend to research his appendix. Compassion Internations, World Vision and Habitat for Humanity were on there, which I already know a little about. We'll see about some of the rest of them.

Evicted...Temporarily

Evicted...Temporarily

The flooding in the basement turns out to be completely unrelated to our little bathroom incident of a week ago. Not completely. It isn't the pluming on that side of the building that's the problem. It's the main pluming.

The shop is open, but we have a portapotty in the back for emergencies, and Nan and I are having to vacate the premises for the time. I think I'm leaving the cats there. I'll be there at least once a day to grab clothes and feed them.

Thank God I have family in town. Otherwise I'd be racking up credit card bills paying for hotels. I hope we get "vacation pay" if they have to close the shop.

This Picture Speaks for Itself

Nothing Much

Nothing Much

I'm in a frenzy of crafting and reading this weekend. Last night I read Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to compare the movie. I'm in a Lord Peter Wimsey sort of a mood, so I checked out 5 of those from the library. And today at church I nabbed G. K. Chesterton's Father Brown Mysteries. And a book on William Barclay's testimony. It might help decipher some of his theology if I know where he's been.

Speaking of which, he and I had a serious disagreement over his summary of Acts 2. As regards the Pentecost:

"On these grounds it is much more likely that this passage refers to that strange yet coveted gift of speaking with tongues. To speak in foreign languages was unnecessary. The passage says that the crowd was made up of Jews and proselyte...Now for a crowd like that at most two languages were necessary. Almost all Jews spoke Aramaic; and even if they were Jews of the Dispersion from a foreign land, they would speak that language which almost everyone in the world spoke at that time - Greek. Greek had become the world language which everyone spoke in addition to his own tongue. In point of fact, Aramaic and Greek, which the disciples must anyhow have spoken, would be quite sufficient. It seems by far most likely that Luke, A Gentile, had confused speaking with tongues with speaking with foreign tongues.

I find it hard to believe that Luke, with a Jewish mother and Greek father wouldn't recognize that the disciples, were in fact, only speaking two languages. And secondly, the passage says:

And how is it that each one of us hears them speaking in our own language in which we were born? Parthians and Medes, Elamites, those who stay in Mespotamia in Judaea and Cappadocia, in Pontus, in Asia, in Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt and the parts of Libya round about Cyrene, Romans who are staying here, Jews and proselyte, people from Crete and Arabia - we hear these men telling the wonders of God in our own tongues.

Sorry, Mr Barclay, it doesn't sound to me like they were hearing God speaking to them in the trade language. And to quote the Central American Native who started Cameron Townsend on a mission, "If your God is so big, why doesn't he speak my language?"

That is my only real beef with William Barclay. He goes out of his way to prove that all miracles and "Acts of God" might be easily explained by natural phenomenon. I don't see why God using nature means that he had nothing miraculous to do with it "acting up." And it doesn't offend my logic that the disciples were preaching and everyone heard it in their own tongue. For two rather unorthodox examples; consider the babblefish and the Star Trek viewscreens. In both cases each party speaks their own language, and as far as they can tell, the other party is speaking the same. How they babblefish and communicators make their lip movements synch is one of the never ending mysteries of the Sci Fi universe, but it fits.

Anyone who wants to better stretch his mind around God's conundrums should read more sci fi.

Pounding the Pavement...again

Pounding the Pavement ... Again.

This morning I was called for an interview at a set of hotels in town. They wanted me for restaurant (which could have been tricky, considering I wouldn't be allowed to cocktail or bartend as per my contract with my current job), but then changed their minds and want me to interview for front desk instead. And a dropped off my application at an espresso bar at the bottom of a doctors office near my church. They will be interviewing next week, and I have hopes of getting one.

In other news, my roast chicken is now a pot pie. Yummy. And for dessert...cherry pie. I'm feeling domestic. I may bake bread this weekend.

A close Second

Close Second

Today was an all day seminar at the Lost Creek Camp. Our speaker was a no-show, so the Director gave us all a day of fun since we'd driven the hour to get there.

I rolled my eyes, commenting, "I'm in hell!" because I'd just finished saying to Nancy that I was glad it was a seminar and not 'enforced fun' which I really don't like.

Actually, it was really fun.

First we were given a sheet of paper where all our names were turned into an anagram. My team of three won well ahead of the rest. 10 points. Then we had to make larger groups and were given 18 nails to balance on the head of 1 nail in a piece of lumber. Paul said, "stand back! I saw this at the fair." My team won again.

In small groups we each were given a sheet of paper where color names were written in colored ink. We had to read the actual colors, not the color written. I was the only one in my group that made it down the page. 5 points. But we only came in second on the trivia. Who knew it was possible to forget that deoxyribonucleic Acid was DNA. I knew that! (For the record, I did remember that Pegasus was Apollo's horse)

After lunch they took us out to the camp's ropes course. There were four of them. First, a two rope walk between two trees. You had to walk on one while holding onto the other. Second, a log bridge suspended 35' high between another two. Then, the Leap of Faith. I climbed 62' up a tree, stood on a platform, jumped for a trapeze, caught it, and then let go while I fell to the ground. I was, of course, harnessed in for all of them. And I only got twisted up in the harness on the Leap of Faith. Five points each. And last, Paul and I successfully attempted the ladder. 4 bys were roped into a ladder, each run 6" farther apart than the last as you climb. It's a two man job, and you have to climb up each other to make it to the next rung. About the third we worked out a system where I planted my hind foot behind and made a step with my left knee. He'd step on my knee, and then pull me up after him. We made it to the top -- 5 points each. I was one of four who even tried, and the only girl. Janel did the others with me. We had to represent.

Then, they took us up to the firing range to try our skill at throwing knives, hatchets, and firing rifles. I fired one alright, but hit nothing. I didn't use the stand because I wanted to feel what it was like. I did manage to get the knife into the stump once.

Then it was time to tally points and go home. Paul beat me. But I came in second, followed by Janel. As it should be! We wore ourselves out!

Merlin put his foot in it

Merlin (or should we say Gandalf, because I can't get Disney out of my head. Gandalf will suffice for the proper kind of wizard) really put his foot in it.

After a lengthy chat with Vivien still on Merlin's lap, playing with his beard, his wisdom overcomes his ardor, and he denounces her mentally for her trickery. She overhears the word 'harlot' on his breath and gives every impression of a noblewoman wrongfully accused. She calls on heaven to strike her with lightening if she has lied, and indeed, a bolt strikes a nearby oak tree. She flies into Merlin's arms begging him to save her, swearing her fealty. Merlin, half believing and weary gives in at last.

...And what should not have been had been,

For Merlin, overtalk'd and overworn,

Had yielded, told her all the charm, and slept.

Then in one moment, she put forth the charm

Of woven paces and of waving hands

And in that hollow he lay as one dead,

And lost to life and use and name and fame.

Then crying, "I have made his glory mine,"

And shrieking out, "O fool!" the harlot leapt

Adown the forest, and the thicket closed

Behind her, and the forest echo'd "fool."

Maybe I can't substitute Gandalf. He would never have fallen for it. At some point he would have said "Fool of a Took!" and thrown her down the nearest mineshaft. Besides, Merlin had a fatal weakness that Gandalf did not: he was human. Gandalf was something akin to an angel, or at least a principality.

Jill of all Trades

Jill of all Trades

I am on a roll decorating. I try to do one improvement to my rooms each evening, depending on what's lying around the store at any given time.

I've had my eye on an old brass chandelier, the type the go over a dining room table, for my room. Take off the lantern parts, I thought, and put a couple of decorative shades on it instead, and maybe loop a few strands of beads from the arms, and it might be pretty cute. And I can say that without emendation because I am referring to very girly things. And anything is better the fluorescent light.

First order of business; single handedly taking down the old fixture. No easy task when you have one stepladder, two arms, and the fixture is as long as you are tall. But I managed by opening the door and propping the end I'd already unscrewed. Getting the chandelier up while I fixed it to the hardware was much harder. As I screwed in one part, the other parts would unscrew, and I'd be back where I started. In the course of all the jiggling (wow, this has suddenly become very suggestive -- one two many viewings of Down with Love), one of the wires came untwisted, and I had to take it all down and rewire. Then I forgot to turn the electricity back off, and nearly electrocuted myself. Cool sparks though.

To my relief it was just a wiring glitch and I hadn't shorted out the entire fixture. Minus the proposed embellishments, it looks lovely.

Much better than fluorescent. I feel less green.

Merlin and Vivien

Merlin and Vivien

I'm skipping around in Idylls of the King and after a double dose of Jane Austen, it's almost shocking. The characters are lustier, less gentile, and nothing of the parlor about them.

Vivian attempts to undo Arthur's court by whispering rumors of Guinevere's infidelity. She then gains a new challenge -- conquering the old Merlin who would wish for love in his old age. Seeing the danger of her wiles he flees, and she follows. Her real aim is learning a spell he told her of which would trap whomever she wills into four wall of an enchanted tower, so he could see no one but her, and no one could rescue him.

There lay she all her length and kissed his feet,

As if in deepest reverence and in love...

..."O Merlin, do ye love me?" and again,

"O Merlin, do ye love me?" and once more,

"Great Master, do ye love me?" he was mute.

And lissome Vivien, holding by his heel,

Writhed toward him, slided up his knee and sat,

Behind his ankle twined her hollow feet

Together, curved an arm about his neck,

Clung like a snake; and letting her left hand

Droop from his mighty shoulder, as a leaf,

Made with her right a comb of pearl to part

The lists of such a beard as youth gone out

Had left in ashes... "I am silent then,

And ask no kiss;" then adding all at once,

"And lo, I clothe myself with wisdom," drew

The vast and shaggy mantle of his beard

Across her neck and bosom to her knee,

And called herself a gilded summer fly

Caught in a great old tyrant spider's web,

Who meant to eat her up in that wild wood

Without one word. So Vivien called herself,

But rather seemed a lovely baleful star

Veiled in gray vapour; till he sadly smiled:

"To what request for what strange boon," he said,

"Are these your pretty tricks and fooleries,

O Vivien, the preamble? yet my thanks,

For these have broken up my melancholy."

Try and reconcile this Merlin to the Disney one. Presta-digi-tonium indeed!

Lancelot and Elaine

Lancelot and Elaine

Lancelot came to the family at Astolat in order to borrow a shield so that he could go to Arthur's tournament without being known. Elaine falls in love with him and becomes the guardian of his shield, taking it into the tower. She also gives him her colors to wear at the tournament, which he has never allowed of any maiden before because he cannor wear the colors of his true love - Arthur's Guinevere. Elaine fancies that he loves her too, and after he falls wounded in the tournament, she cares for him until he is out of danger. Lancelot realizes that he could love Elaine for all her sweetness and lack of duplicity, but is bound by honor (of a sort) to stay true to Guinevere. Elaine's father asks Lancelot to be dicourteous to Elaine to try and break her attachment, since the whole kingdom knows the true state of affairs at Camelot, but Elaine is as wilful in her affections as in other things and dies of a broken heart. Her bier is placed on a wagon, and then a barge and floated into Camelot, bearing in her hand a letter to Lancelot declaring her feelings again, and asking Guinever and her ladies to pray for her soul.

"...And the sick man forgot her simple blush

Would call her friend and sister, sweet Elaine,

Would listen for her coming and regret

Her parting step, and held her tenderly,

And loved her with all love except the love

Of man and woman when they love their best,

Closest and sweetest, and had died the death

In any knightly fashion for her sake...."

"...But when Sir Lancelot's deadly hurt was whole,

To Astolat returning rode the three.

There morn by morn, arraying her sweet self

In that wherein she deem'd she look'd her best,

She came before Sir Lancelot, for she thought

'If I be loved, these are my festal robes,

If not, the victim's flowers before he fall.'"

"And Lancelot ever prest upon the maid

That she should ask some goodly gift of him

For her own self or hers; 'and do not shun

To speak the wish most near to your true heart;

Such service have ye done me, that I make

My will of yours, and Prince and Lord am I

In mine own land, and what I will I can.'

Then like a ghost she lifted up her face,

But like a ghost without the power to speak.

And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish,

And bode among them yet a little space

Till he should learn it; and one morn it chanced

He found her in among the garden yews,

And said, 'Delay no longer, speak your wish,

Seeing I go to-day:' then out she brake:

'Going? and we shall never see you more.

And I must die for want of one bold word.'

'Speak: that I live to hear,' he said, 'is yours.'"

"Then suddenly and passionately she spoke:

'I have gone mad. I love you: let me die.'

'Ah, sister,' answer'd Lancelot, 'what is this?'

And innocently extending her white arms,

'Your love,' she said, 'your love--to be your wife.'

And Lancelot answer'd, 'Had I chosen to wed,

I had been wedded earlier, sweet Elaine:

But now there never will be wife of mine.'"

"'No, no,' she cried, 'I care not to be wife,

But to be with you still, to see your face,

To serve you, and to follow you thro' the world.'

And Lancelot answer'd, 'Nay, the world, the world,

All ear and eye, with such a stupid heart

To interpret ear and eye, and such a tongue

To blare its own interpretation--nay,

Full ill then should I quit your brother's love,

And your good father's kindness.'"

"And she said,
'Not to be with you, not to see your face--

Alas for me then, my good days are done.'

'Nay, noble maid,' he answer'd, 'ten times nay!

This is not love: but love's first flash in youth,

Most common: yea, I know it of mine own self:

And you yourself will smile at your own self

Hereafter, when you yield your flower of life

To one more fitly yours, not thrice your age:

And then will I, for true you are and sweet

Beyond mine old belief in womanhood,

More specially should your good knight be poor,

Endow you with broad land and territory

Even to the half my realm beyond the seas,

So that would make you happy; furthermore,

Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my blood,

In all your quarrels will I be your knight.

This will I do, dear damsel, for your sake,

And more than this I cannot.' ..."

"...To whom the gentle sister made reply,

'Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor be wroth,

Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault

Not to love me, than it is mine to love

Him of all men who seems to me the highest.'..."

"... Then spake the lily maid of Astolat:

'Sweet father, all too faint and sick am I

For anger: these are slanders: never yet

Was noble man but made ignoble talk.

He makes no friend who never made a foe.

But now it is my glory to have loved

One peerless, without stain: so let me pass,

My father, howsoe'er I seem to you,

Not all unhappy, having loved God's best

And greatest, tho' my love had no return.'..."

Idylls of the King
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(Elaine and the Lady of Shalott are different versions of the same person. Which explains why Anne changes from the Funeral of Elaine to quoting The Lady of Shalott.)

Seen While Driving

Seen While Driving:

Bikini Wax 25% off.

25% off of what exactly?

And I thought cleaning up after the cats was bad

And I thought cleaning up after the cats was bad...

Today I was putting a new delivery away in the kids clothing room when I noticed. A really bad smell. Coming from the back rooms. And at first I thought, well, it's a warm day. And this side of the building isn't air conditioned, so its musty. But it was bad. Really bad. I turned a fan on.

An hour later I was preparing for some volunteers to price items in the stockroom. Where the fan was. And it still smelled. Like an outhouse. And so I got a pine scented votive to try to cut it down. It wasn't enough.

Twenty minutes later my brain finally connected the dots. It smelled like an outhouse. It's been a while since I've been camping. I started sniffing around. It is, after all, a thrift store, and I assume that sometimes little kids have accidents and get embarrassed. But it wasn't in any display rooms. Next, the employee areas. There is an out of service men's bathroom back by the stock room leftover from when that half of the mission was the men's dormitory or something. Not there.

Then I thought. If there's a men's bathroom there must be a corresponding women's bathroom somewhere. But I'd never seen it. Wait. There's a closed door at the corner of the stock room that we piled boxes near when our delivery came in. Smelling my way back there, indeed, the stench was coming from the out of service women's room. Surely someone didn't use that bathroom. There's no plumbing. Just fixtures.

I opened the door, and to stop overdramatizing at the wrong moment, indeed someone had used the bathroom to the fullest extent. And there was no water to turn on to flush it.

And so, after several frantic phone calls to mission staff we learned that the plumbing was good. All we had to do was haul water in there, fill the bowl, fill the tank, flush and repeat until everything was gone. So, from 3-3:45 that's what I was doing. Filling and flushing. Once everything was clear, I poured bleach, but the quart, into the water and let it sit. Thank God for bleach is all I can say. All I had to actually clean was some residue on the seat. Everything else was eaten away by the magical powers of clorox. Then, after the last of the bleach water was flushed out, I doused the entire toilet with more clorox and closed the door. We'll be locking them with big signs saying "bathroom out of service" tomorrow. To prevent anyone else using them. And even worse, we have reason to believe that it wasn't a customer who did it.

It's days like this that being assistant manager stinks.

Literally.

Mark your Favorite searches

Mark your favorite searches

Since I am working in my second ministry in a row I have deemed it wise to remove my last name from my blog index. Partly so that I have the semi-anonymity of being able to post job frustrations, and partly so that I don't reflect badly on them either. At least officially. As a disclaimer (in case anyone cares) my views do not necessarily reflect the views of any job I may hold now or in the future. My theology is not necessarily their theology, my views do not reflect any official policies on their part.

Ok. Now that that's covered, those of you who search for me under "Rachel Kunze" have about this long to start memorizing my url before I delete this part of the post. It is already removed from my archives....

Thanks guys! Hope to continue to see you around. Inklings dot blogspot dot com. Very simple. Repeat after me...

Old Shadows

...SHADOWS OF ECSTASY...

Rachel: "$200 for glasses that won't stay on my face."

Angie: "But very stylish glasses that won't stay on your face."



Austen: "I've been calling him 'pinky' all day."



Angie: "Depending on how far east you go, there can be four r's in that word."



Aaron: "You can't give someone in a thong a wedgie. The definition of thong is wedgie."



Austen: "It's pretty ironic that we have to hurry through our pushups to put our makeup on."



Doming: "I wish the mutation had continued."



Jonathan: "Everyone look at how good I look."



Aaron: "It's ginormicus!"

Jonathan: "It's so big we had to make up a new word."



Tasha: "You didn't squash that up did you?"

Jessica: "No!...I made a boat out of it."



Jonathan: "I definately didn't listen to that last part. Too many words."



Aaron: "Let's go! Let's go!"....(running back) "We need bungies! We need bungies!"

Bill Cosby

I saw Bill Cosby

Live. Outdoors. At the Casino.

And he was really funny. I could hear Dad turning pink he was laughing so hard. At one point he started the sentence, "she brought you into the world,"
and several people around us in the pause said, "and she'll take you out." He stopped his routine and said, "let me finish!"

And for his last sketch. He did. The one about the dentist.

The only problem with doing a sketch that everyone knows so well, is that when you mess up, the whole audience can say it for you.

It was great!

Job Hunting

Pounding the Pavement

This time looking for a second job. This one provides all my needs, but it's going to cut very close, at least for the next couple of months. So an extra job, added to my 29 hours a week, won't be a hardship, and may help me get back on track with my finances. Up to the end of tour they were good, but now I'm living on nothing, with every paycheck from now until August more than spent on bills, bills, and loan payments.

So yesterday and this morning I woke up, got into a suit and nylons, and went begging for applications. Today I turned in one finished application and three resumes. I'm hoping that I will land the job working banquets at the nicest hotel in town -- I worked there one summer after my freshman year of college, so I'm sort of trained. It was the best money I'd made up until that point. And I applied at three drive through coffee places for the early am shift. I'm not good at mornings. In fact I find it difficult to be pleasant. But I'd rather work mornings and have my evenings free later. Though I wouldn't mind triple shifting through the summer just to be able to afford to go empty out my long awaited storage unit.

I've worked 60-70 hours a week before.

And if none of those places pan out, I'm going to try for the Greystone -- a very posh restaurant. For here. Dad has the in there, so I'm hoping he'll get the word out. Even a shift or two there once in a while would be a help.

And of course, I'm a workaholic if given the change. This is the longest I've ever gone working this few hours (or doing activities -- in college and high school). Four weeks. Whatever shall I do with myself? I have no idea.

Cooking up a Storm

Cooking up a Storm

It's so nice to have a kitchen again, after two years without. Unfortunately my grocery budget is limited (I splurged a dollar today for a week and a half's worth of top ramen), but the mission adequately provides us with staples and canned goods. And the occasional treat -- like Costco double chocolate muffins and Safeway Croissants. And milk came in by the gallon. Expired a week ago, but it's still good.

Tonight after Bible Study Nancy and I had to eat something, so I made Green Been Casserole. Then corn bread for the week. And now I'm making a second batch of casserole and baking an herb chicken. I may get back into my bread habit now that we have yeast. Perhaps tomorrow...

Portland

Tasha's Birthday

I drove to Portland Saturday morning for a belated birthday with Tasha. I pulled in in the afternoon, and she and a friend, Drea, were going running. So I got a nap. Then we all went bookstore hopping. They were trying to find Captivating, and I was looking for William Barclay's Commentary on Acts. Three stops later, it was at Powells. Hurrah!

At Powells we spent some time in the coffee shop. As we were there, a costume 5K marathon ran by. And one of those weird experiences began, where a formerly estranged body of people, for a moment, become a group. And we all laughed at the Darth Vaders, Napoleon Dynamites, and the two person horse. (And whoever was the horse's hind end, that must have been a long race) And Jesus, with cross in tow. Someone should let him know that he rose. But then, a random guy with a robe and long hair might be harder to identify at a run. After the race ended, we all went back to anonymity, but we'd had a moment.

That night the three of us had a Seinfeld and Friends marathon with our favorite men: Ben and Jerry.

The next morning Drea drove home and Tasha and I went to Imago Dei -- a youngish church in Portland. They had rented an old Catholic church, but were Evangelical, but had the iconography on their altar for communion, and sang rearranged hymns. A very nice blend. The pastor gave a sermon on giving joyfully. At the end of it he mentioned that a pastor they support in Africa was trying to start two business through microfinance (a great program by the way). One was for 200 widows who were starting a farm, and some disabled men were wanting to manufacture soccer balls to sell to local schools. They needed $4,600. The first service, made up of young marrieds, college and singles (it's a very young congregation in general, though there was overall a large variety of people) gave almost 20,000 (they announced that after communion -- presumably whoever was totaling the offerings from before had just finished). And we were at the second service. Pretty stinking cool.

Tasha and I finished the marathon over tomato soup and toaster cheese, and I drove home. Great weekend.

Happy Birthday Tasha!

Head to toe in Dust

Head to toe with dust

Today it was my job, as part of the larger overall job of organizing the craft room which just moved downstairs, to take 25 boxes, bins, bags, and barrels of assorted silk flowers and separate them by color. Well two days and ten hours later, it's done. And the wreaths are all on dowel rods hanging from the lowest shelf.

I still have the rest of the odds and ends to go.

I dusted the shelves and floor with my tushie. You can finally see what the floor is made of: (Concrete presumably, like the rest of the floor, but you couldn't be sure). The floor looks wonderful, my jeans less so.

Tonight my Sister is coming over to watch Princess Bride, which she has never seen. A crime against humanity, I say, and one we are going to absolve.

Painting

Covered in Windblown

I am head to toe covered in light blue paint. We're painting every room in the shop. One room at a time. So, take everything down, paint, put everything back up, repeat.

Today I'm painting broad horizontal stripes behind the register and the opposing wall. My lunch break to let it dry, et voila, filling in the in betweens with tan.

PS. I finished quilting my grandmothers flower garden quilt and added the scraps to my yo-yo quilt. Lots of quilting going on and movies to be watched since I have the benefit of my old VHS and Nancy's DVD collection.