Hunting Dog is Driving Force

This is nothing compared to the 405 at rush hour.

Breaking and Entering

Today I am guilty of breaking and entering.

My parents still own the house I grew up in, and have it rented out. When my stuff made the move from Southern California (not to be confused with the stuff that hasn't moved from Waco, Texas) it ended up there instead of at their new house. So before I go back on tour I had a list of things to go find. Namely my "Mutual Funds for Dummies" book, and the suits I'm shipping to my sister for her round of job interviews. So I found myself parking in front of the house -- no one was home, walking around the side yard, and breaking into what used to be my Dad's drum studio with a butter knife. It's a trick I learned when I was, I don't know, 10. Maybe 12. And I'm not sure why I'd even want to break in there -- maybe I learned that when it was still his shop. And I'd break in to steal tools to build chairs with one leg too short for the tree house. Funny story about that chair, by the way. My sister was trying to reach something, and didn't notice that the short leg was off the edge of the deck. Of course the chair tilted, and she fell, hitting her head on the tree branch that our rope swing was tied to on the way down. Which was good, because she got knocked out and didn't feel it when she landed on a shovel.

So if tomorrow I'm blogging from jail, you'll know why. My boot prints through the snow should make it pretty darn clear that SOMEBODY was in their back yard. It wouldn't take Lord Peter to figure it out.

Refiling Taxes

No one should have to file taxes more than once a year, but I messed up the last one (checked the wrong box) so the IRS was kind enough to inform me of it. So, right now we're not sure if I owe nothing, or owe quite a bit.

And soon it will be time to file for 2004. Blech.

Nancy

I met with Nancy, my 8th Grade through Graduation small group leader. She kept a group of girls together for five years, even when many of us were no longer involved in our own church youth group. (After three youth leaders in as many years, most of us signed off freshman year) Some of us were teaching Sunday school, others were attending services, but Nancy had us meet anywhere from weekly to monthly. Just to catch up, bible study and fellowship. It was wonderful to have that continuity, and someone who didn't pressure you to 'attend' but always let you know you were welcome when you had time. And most of us made it most of the time.

James 1:16-17

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:16-17)

A commentary I read in some church, somewhere on tour translated shifting shadows as an eclipse. The Eclipse image resonated with me. Isn't that sometimes how we see hardship? When the bad times come it's easy to think that God's goodness is somehow being overshadowed. Why can't he just break through and take it all away.

The sun isn't really being covered by the moon. It's an illusion. (Like those pictures we take, where your best friend is standing on your hand) The moon can only hide the sun from us because we are so small. Easier said than done, but when hardships come it would be good to remember that God cannot be blocked. We cannot see him sometimes because of circumstances, but he does not change.

Tsunami blogs

Here are some of the blogs that are getting so much attention by the media. So far, the most accurate and up to date news is coming from bloggers who are there, taking pictures, sending updates, and keeping an eye out for new aid.

South-Asia Tsunami and Earthquake Blog

Being Crafty

I've spent the evening resurrecting a pair of jeans that got all but destroyed last tour. I think they'll last four more months. So I chopped off the hem, (which was three inches too long, and had been shredded when I walked on it), took in the thinning side seams, embellished, and put on a belt.

It's the artsiest pair of jeans I've ever worn, but they should hold out. And there's room for more souvenir patches... I like getting to be creative. And I got to watch Sabrina. That is one of my favorite movies, and always makes me want to move to Paris immediately. French people may smoke too much as a whole, but I think they know how to live better than we do, for all money and stuff.

"The French work as hard as anyone, they just know when to quit."

Strange site statistics

And the #1 search that brings google to my site:

"ron weasley's least favorite sandwich filling"

I think we can safely say that none of them are British.

Stop the Madness

From yesterday's Yakima Herald Republic:

"Authentic Filipino dinners are available from 4 to 6:30 p.m. at the Filipino-American Hall in Wapato.

Thursday: Chicken adobo, pork stir fry, pancit, rice, cookie or fresh fruit."

Ha. We serve a cookie and fruit.

I made it

I made it into Yakima last night after one. Fourteen hours of driving later, I feel, this morning, like I was hit by a runaway semi. Which is, of course, ridiculous, because at some points in the evening, they were passing me on all sides. I don't handle curves well in the dark. My "in the dark driving strategy" is to find someone who is going the same speed I want to go, and latch onto their taillights at an appropriate distance.

So I'm here. I need to unpack my car and take a shower.

Oh, and on a slightly *sigh* ironic note, I drove RIGHT PAST my exit for tour in a few days...At 9:17 last night.