Packed and Ready to Go

Our family is ready for Peru!

I surprised everyone including myself when I was pretty much completely packed by yesterday. ("Pretty much" because I still had a couple articles of clothing which needed to be washed, and my carry-on wasn't sorted.) This afternoon, Mom, Dad, and Heather worked to get their stuff together and I finished with mine. We're now all packed and ready to go. I wrote instructions about pet care for the friend who's coming to tend to the animals (and whom Sasha will hopefully love instead of hate). I have a list of last-minute things to do in the morning. Now I'm sitting in bed trying to decide when I should turn in.

I don't think the reality of this trip will hit me until I'm on the plane. At least, it hasn't truly hit yet; not the whole, "Yes, this really is happening" feeling. It's more of a vague anticipation and curiosity, I guess. That, or I'm handling it extremely well. The part of my brain claiming to be the rational part is trying to convince me I need to be a little more worried about the plane ride, while the part which is supposedly the more bold, irrational part is getting excited for the new experience. The former side is starting to gain ground. By the time I'm fastening my seat belt, hopefully I'll be shaking from excitement and not the onset of a nervous breakdown.

The group is meeting at the church at 9:00 tomorrow, and we'll drive from there to the airport a couple hours away. Where we'll eat and then wait for hours to board our plane. I packed books. Whether or not I'll be able to read them remains to be seen.

I had so many people tell me at church and over the last few days that they'll be praying for our trip. I can't begin to describe how encouraging it is to know my friends are lifting me up and keeping me in their thoughts. Perhaps that has something to do with my sudden calm mindset regarding airplanes?

As this missions trip looms just in front of me, I have to say the gravity of this opportunity is beginning to sink in. I only have a vague idea of what to expect, from stories Mom and Wes brought back and what we were told we might be doing while we're there, but I have high expectations: expectations to bless and be a blessing, to serve and to minister, to touch and to connect, to impact, to see and be affected, and to carry that back with me. I have a journal I plan to write in as often as possible. I know it won't be enough to capture everything we experience, but I hope it will help.

I will not be taking my computer, though it was an option. It's one more thing I have to worry about, and I don't want to deal with that.

Like always, I keep thinking I'm forgetting something. Odds are I'll realize what it is around Day 5, and by then it won't matter. I hope.

Well, I should probably go. Big day tomorrow!

Lightning Bugs and Lightning (and mosquitoes)

Summer nights around our house have been pretty amazing lately. I only wish I was better with a camera (and then had a camera...). Every night the lightning bugs have put on beautiful shows. Do you know how cool it is to drive down a road surrounded by corn fields and see the lightning bugs flashing like crazy? Not only that, but I love star gazing on summer nights (provided I have bug repellent). It's just another perk of moving to the country.

The animals aren't quite so captivated by the lightning bugs. The dogs and cat ignore them for the most part and the chickens only wonder how good they are to eat. The ducks, however, didn't know what to make of them one of the first nights they showed up. I was out settling the chickens for the night. As I was walking back toward the house to turn on the hose, I met the ducks. They were telling me off, as usual, screaming about something or other and following me back to the coop. All of a sudden, a lightning bug floated in front of their faces and lit up. The lead duck was so startled he stopped short and pulled back. And fell silent.

Until I laughed at him.

Last night was even more amazing than our average summer night this year. We've had a bit of a heat wave (like practically every other state in the country). Earlier we'd had a brief but powerful storm, mostly wind and rain. It had cleared up pretty quickly and the day remained muggy. However, Heather came running in from corralling her ducks and said to come quick because there was a storm building and involved lightning. Mom and I followed her out.

All along the north sky there were thick clouds full of lightning; both flashes that filled the clouds and streaks that forked through and even shot out like snake tongues. Pretty soon I was sent back in to get Mom's camera, and Heather followed for hers. This was too good of a show to pass up, because what photographer (casual, amateur, or professional) wouldn't like to get a picture of lightning?

I took mosquito decoy duty while Mom and Heather snapped away. When they paused to wait for cars to pass or to check and see if they got any good shots, we'd raise a chorus of "ooo"s and "ahhh"s. While they clicked away, I stood back in wonder at the display. To add to the spectacle we had a bright moon in clear skies behind us and the lightning bugs were all over. I ran back in to get the tripod and grabbed Mom's phone because Dad had texted. I ended up catching a picture of a lightning streak and, satisfied with my surprising success, retreated inside.

Of course, I took stock of my bug bites. I've been having worse-than-average reactions to mosquitoes lately, and they like to cluster on one spot whenever they attack. I had a good twenty bites on my legs and ankles, but only one on my arm. Naturally.

Years ago, our family took a hiking trip. I can't even remember where we went. We were near dunes, but were in a forest. It was either late spring or early autumn, and we kids were complaining of cold and begging to cut the hike short. Dad stopped and looked at us seriously. He told us to stop whining and enjoy ourselves, because it was a beautiful day and the view was amazing, and that's what we would remember if we'd pay attention. We'd forget about the cold and the wind in no time, and recall instead the breathtaking views of the dunes from a wooded hilltop, or the zig-zagging trail winding around tree roots, or just the joy of spending time with family doing what we loved.

It's his words that helped me remember that trip, and the sights associated with it. I don't know how it's stuck with me, but it came to mind when I was thinking about last night's spectacle. I'll remember that a lot longer than the bug bites. I remember the double rainbow I saw a few years ago better than I remember the terror of driving through tornado weather on a road trip. I remember the fun of a sledding trip and forget about the cold and the damp. I remember the fun of sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows and singing songs and not the fatigue of a long week at camp.

But you have to choose to move beyond the discomfort, the unpleasant parts, and focus on the good and the thrill and the wonderful displays of God's handiwork. It requires a conscience effort, and perhaps a little time afterward for reflection (and some sort of ointment to soothe the bug bites).

Yes, I am kind of preaching to myself in light of our Peru trip. I'm trying to get it into my head that there will be so much to enjoy and learn and take away from this opportunity that I can't let myself be held back by my own silly psychological issues.
And I have to get going now to make some more progress on preparing for that trip. I'm mostly packed, and I only "need" to buy one or two more things. This time on Monday I'll be either in a plane or in an airport. I still can't process that....

More on the Poultry (naming, the coop, and the neighbors)

I started writing this post a couple weeks ago but got distracted. I figured since I need to keep at the blogging and since I haven't mentioned much about our poultry (yes, I'm still stuck on that) I'll share.
Chickens are turning out to be a great way for me to use names I've always liked but would never attach to a cat or dog, much less a child. A person can name their chickens anything they jolly well please because 1) they don't have to worry about the chicken learning to answer to a name, 2) few people are really going to care what the chicken is named and even less how to spell it, and 3) practically anything goes, because it's a chicken. Name the members of your flock Nugget, Fried, Grilled, Rotisserie, and Crispy; name your soon-to-be-dead roosters after your ex-boyfriends; give them all names from characters in your favorite book or movie or TV show (and now I want a chicken called "The Doctor"...). It all works.

All of our unique chickens (meaning all the ones we can tell apart from the rest, which is about half) have names: Lobelia, Rex, Betsy, Ginger, Euroclydon "Rocky" II, and Crooked Beak are just a few. It makes it easier to care for them, I think, because there's a little fun in doing roll call and screaming names when they bite you instead of, "You blasted chicken! I'm going to have your legs for BBQ'ed drumsticks!" (though that's fun, too).

As I mentioned above, one of our chickens is called Crooked Beak. She's one of the four Americaunas, all of whom we can manage to tell apart. Crooked Beak's name is self-explanatory: her beak is askew. She has to get food down to the back of her beak to grind it up. Despite this deformity, she's actually very sweet. Probably the nicest of the Americaunas. However, when all of the other favorite and prized chickens were getting named, Crooked Beak was excluded from being dubbed something funny or outlandish or cute.

Mom hates the name and wants us to change it, but no one can think of anything better. I tried pirate names (because they have names like Black Beard) and we've considered trying to find Native American names (because of descriptive names like Sitting Bull) but nothing works. Then I found it: Prunaprismia.

Yeah. Caspian's aunt in Prince Caspian. 

I haven't even suggested it to the family (I know Heather would flat out refuse, though Mom seemed to think it was funny when I pointed it out for a prospective future poultry monicker). They wouldn't even let me name my own dog, and I'm surprised Lobelia is still thusly entitled. But it's worth a try, and it's nicer than Crooked Beak (as if we're all looking to be loving and humane to our chickens). We shall see.
In other news, the coop and run is finally coming together. Dad and Mom have both been busy and away from home a lot, so it's been getting done in stages. We got the fence up a couple days ago. Now the ducks spend their days outside and nights inside in the old chicken house, and the chickens are supposed to stay in the coop or fenced area at all times. (I'm still marveling at how difficult it is to corner a chicken. And none of the roosters like me, so it's even harder because they bite me.) However, some of the chickens (mostly the Americaunas, those pesky things) are natural escape artists. The surest way to lure them back is with food, and it usually works; and they also come back every night.
But talking about the ducks, they've kind of adopted our neighbors' flock, especially the two little mallards. For a while the mallards were coming over every day, usually early in the morning, and yelling for our ducks to be let out so they could socialize. I think they were also hoping to beg for some food. Now the ducks all take turns having play dates at each other's homes. Again, they do come home at night.
Oh, yeah. Probably a month ago now, Dad found an egg by the "duck pond". At first we though it was a chicken egg, but Mom declared it too large for a young hen to have laid. So apparently it's a duck egg. This is good because it means we don't have two drakes and also because we have a duck hen to call Jemima, per Heather's desire. (If it turns out both are hens, I want to name the other Daisy, just to be equally unoriginal and cute.)
That's about all I have to say right now. Hopefully I'll exhaust the chicken topic soon and move on to bigger things. We shall see.

Preparing for an Adventure

So, you know.... We're halfway through July. It's been crazy. I've had stuff to write about but just haven't had the motivation. Fireworks fundraising is over, Independence Day is obviously over, and in honor of my parents' wedding anniversary we just had a vow renewal ceremony. I was an emotional wreck. (You know, because any extreme emotion moves me to uncontrollable tears. It was horrible.)

Next up (in a week) is our Peru missions trip.

Can you say "Freak out"?

Airplanes.

I'm uber excited for everything else, but...airplanes. *shudder*

I was telling some friends that I'm nervous about that part. (I feel rather like this when I think about it.) One of my friends asked if it was because I was scared of the possibility of dying in a plane crash, nervous of the heights, or nervous because of new experiences. New experiences can make me nervous but, on the whole, I'm usually open to them. I can handle the thrill of adventure. And, as a writer, I try to seek out new experiences when the opportunities arise. (Though I'm not really the best at trying new things, my curiosity can overrule my caution.) It might just be the unknown that bothers me when it comes to planes.
One of my friends asked if it was because I was scared of dying in a crash, afraid of heights, or nervous by new experiences. I'll admit new experiences
(*in a deep, mysterious voice* THE GREAT UNKOWN)

My youth pastor's wife was telling me I had nothing to worry about. I laughed (and swallowed those stupid nervous tears that always well up) and told her more people die by donkey attacks than airplane crashes every year.

She gave me a weird look and said, "Okay...so avoid donkeys!"

I wonder what the danger rating is on llamas?

A couple Sundays ago (and yes, it has taken me that long to get around to writing this), one of the young men in church did the afternoon service. (Afternoon instead of evening because it was supposed to follow the annual church picnic, which got rained out.) As ever, he did a wonderful job, and what he talked about was something I needed, particularly in light of our impending journey.

The text was Joshua 1:1&2:

1) Now after the death of Moses the servant of the Lord it came to pass, that the Lord spake unto Joshua the son of Nun, Moses' minister, saying,

2) Moses my servant is dead; now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, thou, and all this people, unto the land which I do give to them, even to the children of Israel.

The key is in verse 2: "arise, go over this Jordan"

He described "arise" as a call to action. Then he pointed out how it said "this Jordan", as in the river right in front of them and at hand. They were called to get up and get moving, because they were standing on the bank of the river they needed to cross. They were right there, standing around (or even sitting), and they needed to get moving.

The idea was about being proactive.

Proactive: tending to initiate change rather than reacting to events.

We're urged to act, but by fear of failing or being rejected by people we're trying to serve, we don't move at all. We satisfy ourselves with not doing anything outright bad and don't worry that we aren't doing anything good, either. The only action we take is preventative. Over time we develop a routine of passive living, and we simply react to the world around us. We don't do anything to impact it.

Meanwhile, we ought to be stepping out and demanding change. We ought to be performing the actions that stir others to react. And we have to keep going, keep growing. In my mind, it isn't the first step toward productivity that's the hardest; it's the second. It's the building of momentum.

That was only a portion of his message, but it's what stood out most to me. And in light of the coming Peru trip, I realized I had been anything but proactive: my Spanish rots because I haven't practiced; I had no idea what I was going to pack; I wasn't emotionally, mentally, or spiritually preparing myself so I can get as much as possible out of this trip. All I was doing was dreading the airplane ride, when there was a whole adventure beyond that waiting for me to accept it.

Since that message, I have made some progress on my Peru prep. Most of my packing is planned and I purchased most of the items I needed. I was going to have to buy a suitcase (for a family who travels around so much, you'd think we'd have more) but some co-workers offered to let me borrow theirs. I'm still not mentally ready, but I'm working myself up to that.

I'm planning on keeping a journal. Whether or not I'll have much time for sitting down and writing in it remains to be seen. I hope I'll have enough to share on here when I get back.

So that's my life right now. I'm still freaking out about Peru, but I'm trying to get in the mindset that this is a great opportunity and I need to be open to it so I can make the most of it. And so I can do as much as possible while I'm there.

"I'm going on an adventure!"



Though hopefully not of the same kind as Bilbo's.