tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762448515559666682024-03-05T05:22:27.065-06:00The Palm SixJayson, Tarrah, Anibel, James, Sydney, and Jovie Palm are living in Ooty, India, working with Freedom Firm, a NGO (non-gov't organization) that rescues and rehabilitates underage girls from the sex trade in South India.Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-21267769643405373092012-01-19T23:16:00.001-06:002012-01-19T23:17:20.354-06:00Ode to the Massive Rubbish Bin<br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A pictorial overview of our last three weeks</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPQRz0gz0yfbfj9-kXPHh6g-2kIh0x3XMAaeJqXWJgr4173VN4hqNDJwkYrrNMvR2hkCDw0LgUuG5jYY7jmyenfv5AgcAAOyMF8HWhhwPOQRX3JamFR5y-T3DtGWtkvmKqL8E8hmwzMw/s1600/Winter2011-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPQRz0gz0yfbfj9-kXPHh6g-2kIh0x3XMAaeJqXWJgr4173VN4hqNDJwkYrrNMvR2hkCDw0LgUuG5jYY7jmyenfv5AgcAAOyMF8HWhhwPOQRX3JamFR5y-T3DtGWtkvmKqL8E8hmwzMw/s320/Winter2011-003.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jayson commutes a few days a week on his bike.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrqTk3HMIgxgJ4L68CP2ndyY8MU9lr2hA_64Z8e7y_ssmnhht7K6B66aFCgY6zRBFVFJDUSCsTrvP_YDODd56vRjuIDrgTmLiEGaq7bQdX1ljAVgc-s218a7vgWBoi1MB9YoyRd8W5Yw/s1600/Winter2011-008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrqTk3HMIgxgJ4L68CP2ndyY8MU9lr2hA_64Z8e7y_ssmnhht7K6B66aFCgY6zRBFVFJDUSCsTrvP_YDODd56vRjuIDrgTmLiEGaq7bQdX1ljAVgc-s218a7vgWBoi1MB9YoyRd8W5Yw/s320/Winter2011-008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think that is an IKEA cardboard sled, in our backyard</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It would be a move-in without a bath in something other than a bathtub</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie, exactly three years ago, India move-in</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move-in day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnm6PNZPg0V6iTLpMoDFk9mRxdz3zW4nCmytHNUcy3ViuIzbXJ1uX3ui0XirG60LrGYQvdcY0BKwEiellxU3fpmjMqveeH-UoA_mwCJaqYVLWtXHVGniyULPzjRivx3s0G2daXwsqAl8/s1600/Winter2011-028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnm6PNZPg0V6iTLpMoDFk9mRxdz3zW4nCmytHNUcy3ViuIzbXJ1uX3ui0XirG60LrGYQvdcY0BKwEiellxU3fpmjMqveeH-UoA_mwCJaqYVLWtXHVGniyULPzjRivx3s0G2daXwsqAl8/s320/Winter2011-028.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move-in night</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move-in night</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move-in day</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tra-la-la Christmas</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUKSouOzUOhORl0jaZFeN0_JtiPiEA02DbQCwE2vViatMREj8FYSy2g_cHcEvVXSIN125NT715Bj88MkwHOBrvatDmaSbMqT_xu7JxbnUQUxly7zn34U7LgJ7g20r7bs8dTAGs7Piv3gs/s1600/Winter2011-081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUKSouOzUOhORl0jaZFeN0_JtiPiEA02DbQCwE2vViatMREj8FYSy2g_cHcEvVXSIN125NT715Bj88MkwHOBrvatDmaSbMqT_xu7JxbnUQUxly7zn34U7LgJ7g20r7bs8dTAGs7Piv3gs/s320/Winter2011-081.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jayson's grandpa and Syd</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cwh0l36YGJAlG484khFkBkaJR8Z5INtG9pSloIIkNaB7yKBfCwoM-GvqbxYRjWFrh52IitqwDn0__NfARCRslCWQGJB1uIm6XFZPqzB7UfaRPCFkOcqKRP5sOM_blFpq_jvvYYi8iwo/s1600/Winter2011-096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cwh0l36YGJAlG484khFkBkaJR8Z5INtG9pSloIIkNaB7yKBfCwoM-GvqbxYRjWFrh52IitqwDn0__NfARCRslCWQGJB1uIm6XFZPqzB7UfaRPCFkOcqKRP5sOM_blFpq_jvvYYi8iwo/s320/Winter2011-096.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Eve in Rockford, IL</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WxNPDHKqiTwKP0Q8FBWlvn321uZKGOcJrCGBPkBJf0-0_M0qBJF9tRNw5SQtyhX6P2MZMn0YV5PbBwA1zPAr7pY0Ah3mv5qdYgAG04u4qRLQ_kCtfY-w5qTPCe4ciGhoFVQzpc2wh_E/s1600/Winter2011-110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WxNPDHKqiTwKP0Q8FBWlvn321uZKGOcJrCGBPkBJf0-0_M0qBJF9tRNw5SQtyhX6P2MZMn0YV5PbBwA1zPAr7pY0Ah3mv5qdYgAG04u4qRLQ_kCtfY-w5qTPCe4ciGhoFVQzpc2wh_E/s320/Winter2011-110.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road trip! Doesn't get better than this</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxqOsUWyLWzHTANtNzuuOI6XuVwIJO6B_JneXwNvA-_w0VcVy396HQ90xULXIbChiLbPb8uEew6k9QafD5cxiHLZC3_o8Uav6dpZ9bdA5Fi9RjeFdmQexV_5x8pncjRnkmZz6y7UEqTg/s1600/Winter2011-113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxqOsUWyLWzHTANtNzuuOI6XuVwIJO6B_JneXwNvA-_w0VcVy396HQ90xULXIbChiLbPb8uEew6k9QafD5cxiHLZC3_o8Uav6dpZ9bdA5Fi9RjeFdmQexV_5x8pncjRnkmZz6y7UEqTg/s320/Winter2011-113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or this</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKK-NV4EXp7cJ7CSxhrr_sf0ZRNPhhi6ru5EgmHAJNhqON6OrrLiRcU0Vx7jfghisKDnxybytuD0K-dheBC4UIWHEofykRG-vJcYVYY7Sm0RhVHluhyfp9jJWCup8SpLZ5xaiQPWX5hM/s1600/Winter2011-141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKK-NV4EXp7cJ7CSxhrr_sf0ZRNPhhi6ru5EgmHAJNhqON6OrrLiRcU0Vx7jfghisKDnxybytuD0K-dheBC4UIWHEofykRG-vJcYVYY7Sm0RhVHluhyfp9jJWCup8SpLZ5xaiQPWX5hM/s320/Winter2011-141.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye Schoolcraft (Bemidji)</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">The bus stop. Whew, the bus stop. My kids’ school bus stop. I liken it to any sort of plane or train travel. Our family is a bit notorious for mad dashes and dramatic, near misses of the plane/train/bus. And our wee school bus stop is more of the same. It’s about a block and a half away from our house. And it seems like every morning, as we really do have quite a bit of time to get our morning chores done, there is a frantic coats/boots/gloves/hat/backpack/lunchbox (and now ice skates, for recess) in the short minutes before the bus comes. And all the while I ride that fine line between firm encouragement and all out shouting. But here we are, in our new house, our new neighborhood, our new school...doing life our normal way...making it to the bus...barely. It’s good that we carry home wherever we go.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">So, the last three weeks have been filled with: Christmas near Chicago, packing up in Bemidji, and unpacking in Minneapolis. I kind of don’t want to give nitty gritty details of all the wiggles and woots that transpired. But I will say that we have felt the love all around. I am grateful for all the hands that participated in our last three weeks. I guess it’s really four weeks, I’m a little bit in the twilight zone when it comes to time these days.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I honestly think that’s all the things that I have to share. Not much I know, but I am not quite sure where to start. So, this tie I gave you the bus stop, maybe next time will be about our newly painted laundry room floor. Who knows. Surprises await you.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> </span></div>
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<span class="s1">An ode to the massive move-in rubbish bin.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Oh, how I really, really liked you</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span> Oh, how I only needed to take you out weekly</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Oh, how you took in... everything, without complaint</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span> Cardboard, Painting Supplies, Pizza boxes, Bubble wrap, Yucky old stuff.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span> You just stood there. Always. Forever. I will miss you</span></div>
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<br /></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-30153732687265184582011-12-22T22:25:00.000-06:002011-12-22T22:25:45.629-06:00Packing. PACKING. packing. PaCkInG.<style>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14pt;">Packing. PACKING.
packing. PaCkInG. <u>Packing.</u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> Packing</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing lunches</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing Legos</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing backpacks</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing the car</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing for Rockford, Illinois (Christmas)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing bedding</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing my cheeks with popcorn balls</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing groceries</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing dollies</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing suitcases</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing blue packs </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing plastic bins</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing boxes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Packing Zippies</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">This is what I did this week. My month. It’s my world. There
is no other world, other than packing. I feel like it has been a part of my world
off and on for the last 3 1/2 years. And there is a part of packing that is helpful.
I weed out things that have absolutely no reason to be in our life. Packing helps
us transition. It’s physical. You can get your head around it. But here’s the
deal with packing and me. I’m kind of packing loser. This is where I go wrong with
packing. I have a slight Post-Great Depression Era process that goes through my
mind when packing. Tarrah’s train of thinking... “I know I will never find the other
mate to that sock, but if I keep it, I could use it do dust”... That’s kind of
a poor example, but you get my drift. But it’s not only with socks, it’s with sleeping
bags, broken toys, picture frames, vases, etc. And that kind of issue mounts a bit
when packing for a family of six. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I also kind of get nauseated when it comes to the details of
packing. Road trips, travel in general, I pack light, serious light. I can pack
up a car in 10 minutes flat, if all the laundry is clean. I can pack my family for
a long plane ride like I get paid the big bucks for it. It’s the whole house packing
that drives me to drink. And the fact of the matter is that I have stuff that has
been in boxes for over 3 1/2 years that I have absolutely no recollection of. When
we sold our house 4 years ago, I had 3 children under 4 and one on the way - the
big deal was making sure that I tried my hardest to not leave one of my kids of
the at the grocery store. That was my daily goal. So, remembering if I have any
mattress pads is a bit of puzzler for me. And then we have suitcases full of our
things from India that I didn’t bother to unpack that still kind of smell like
India. And then there is packing up the stuff of daily living the last six months
living with my folks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Oh man. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">But you know what? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We close on our house in 8 days. The kids and I celebrated their
last day at a great school. My mom made popcorn balls for me, oh, I mean, for the
kids. We pick up Jayson tomorrow in Minneapolis and head down to Rockford (near
Chicago) to celebrate Christmas with Jayson’s family. We go ice skating often on
my parent’s lake. Jayson loves his job. In 8 days, our family of 6 can live under
the same room for many consecutive days in a row. We celebrate Jesus’ birth soon.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Merry Christmas friends. </span></div>
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<br /></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-10277022548162121062011-11-22T21:41:00.001-06:002011-11-22T22:29:50.106-06:00Anyone Want to Go Bowling?<br />
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I just ironed for the first time in about three years. Not really surprising, I probably ironed
about once a year before moving to India.
But five minutes ago was the first in a long time. I like ironing trousers way better than
shirts. So many different bits to the
shirt. The reason for this momentous
occasion is that my dear husband Jayson was given a job. (I shamelessly admit that I asked my mom to
iron his clothes the first few weeks on the job. I know, I know, what to do though.) His first day was two weeks ago Monday. He is
the associate director of ICA Food Shelf.
It serves seven different communities outside of Minneapolis. He has
loved his last two weeks and we both feel really grateful. The food shelf is a stone’s throw away from
our church, which is an added bonus. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We’ve said since the beginning of summer, that when dad gets a
job, we’ll take the kids bowling to celebrate.
They’ve never been. So, when the
job came, we picked them up from school and slyly asked, “Does anyone want to go
bowling?” In about two nanoseconds they all asked, “Did dad get a job?” It was great to celebrate with them. This season since coming back from India has
been so much about the six of us walking this road together. Not just Jayson…not just Jayson and I…but all
six of us. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So, this past week, Jovie and I drove down to Minneapolis for a
bit of a house looking trip. We did come
across one that we thought would be good fit for our family, we came to an
agreement with the seller and the inspection is tomorrow. Whoop-whoop. We shall
see if they find any trolls in the attic… if there are no trolls, we close on
December 30. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Jayson and I were talking two nights ago that the feeling that
settles the most in us is gladness.
Happy doesn’t really cut it, and excitement sounds tiring. It has taken
me a while to get my head around everything that I have felt and continue to
feel. It has taken me a while to call
and email our friends and family about our turn of events. It takes me a while to put my feelings into
words right now. To say that I have been
sitting with this would be a good description.
We are nothing short of thankful and ready.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com4Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-36007044507083450732011-10-27T22:59:00.000-05:002011-10-27T22:59:31.555-05:00I Do Love Subcultures<br />
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The Palm Six at a Family Wedding</div>
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In India we showed you photos of the Arabian Sea, clever monkeys in our yard, and electricians climbing telephone poles barefoot. Now the excitement is Jayson getting a free photo shoot. </div>
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<span class="s1">My Grandmother asked on the phone tonight when my next blog was going to be... When Grandma asks it is so very hard to deny her. So, the moral of the story is, if you need anything of me, just have my Grandmother call and ask for you. Her name is Eleanor and she is wonderful. Here goes the blog. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I left off last having a series of medical dramas in the family. And the drama continued as we were sitting in the cafeteria of St. Mary’s hospital (connected with the Mayo Clinic) in the first hour of six of my Dad’s open heart surgery when a phone call came through saying the doctor needed to see us. Yikes, of course we assumed that they found something even more dreadful upon “cracking” him open. But the doctor kindly said that after a series of consultations (some sort of high intensity scope and two other doctors), they decided not to open him up. We were all a bit stunned. Adding further to our shock, doctor said that this happens maybe once or twice a year. We felt grateful, extremely grateful, to be in that very small percentage. So, my dad was awakened an hour later and was told that he could go elk hunting this year. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I must say that while I was at Mayo I fell in love. I do love subcultures. Any sort really. The bird watchers, the Trekkies, hip hop, juggling, organic, Pokemon, etc... you get the picture. Any group of people that have their own little code. And my newest subculture love is the Mayo clinic. You guessed it folks. First off, who doesn’t love a whole gaggle of people in light blue scrubs. Second, everyone there really knows their stuff, experts to the max, and there really is something lovely about experts. Third, the amount of organization that pulses through there is over the top. And I am not really an organizational junkie, but man, I was convinced that I must be the biggest dummy in the world if they can effectively do hundreds of surgeries a day and I can’t figure out how to get my kids to put their shoes in the one basket I ask them to. (Full discretion, I really don’t know how many they do, but its lots.) Anyway, all that to say, I did ask Jayson if there was any desire within him to go to med school... </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Within our current routine I’m finding myself engaging more fully in the present moment. And I don’t mean to say that flippantly or with cliche. It comes from a deep place in me. I’m learning how to be more responsive to what is. The high’s and low’s of unemployment/job hunting; the unexpected and acute emotions that come along with my dad’s health; living in a house of a three-generation, eight-person family; and having such a dramatic change from crazy India to near calm Bemidji have continued to impress upon me the gigantic amount of energy it takes me to just stay present for this day, not having a clue what tomorrow will bring. </span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-33910531761001838312011-09-29T23:20:00.000-05:002011-09-29T23:22:21.838-05:00Boxed in By Crazy Dogs<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5jTpyi8-RnScAjTWooGvu_nlx76txyggde_uWvbYqmZoIb0Ab3LLmuiyksvRZEPHZMxtngWOa8UOad1sUSe9LHovC3wEJ1rdPFFKKZfvqzC2X1gWyHozG69vZHn010hmDwLBR7Fikyg/s1600/Barney+Show+Palm+Kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5jTpyi8-RnScAjTWooGvu_nlx76txyggde_uWvbYqmZoIb0Ab3LLmuiyksvRZEPHZMxtngWOa8UOad1sUSe9LHovC3wEJ1rdPFFKKZfvqzC2X1gWyHozG69vZHn010hmDwLBR7Fikyg/s320/Barney+Show+Palm+Kids.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barney's Birthday Bash. James was a bit disgruntled, his options this particular Saturday were to go to the Barney show or to go quilt shopping with Mommy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPv8Hkv0jGD14blkAtV_kge_M0pfTs3ugF8YkJdDZrhv0PLPOxFYVXjdCOiGkOjzPtW9JlSRglejB7VNSacjJ_rQL0RBRqDphY-WReGPP2Oz09aPnA0wbKvffCau7_1Xr30jACXWkW_E/s1600/Barney+Show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPv8Hkv0jGD14blkAtV_kge_M0pfTs3ugF8YkJdDZrhv0PLPOxFYVXjdCOiGkOjzPtW9JlSRglejB7VNSacjJ_rQL0RBRqDphY-WReGPP2Oz09aPnA0wbKvffCau7_1Xr30jACXWkW_E/s320/Barney+Show.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barney and all his friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeXMzSZx0scL2lp6lhVMZscJTxkmzAfMlwcLoeaqh2ORT07AwhVF2EWimjVWoLbYCu5Fy07hUS9mv7gDPO5Nsf7LiXfilCoFFLYvFdRTLDENO2bjVZAzfRUTEcCHIfJNueZId-pYCu8Y/s1600/Butt+Bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeXMzSZx0scL2lp6lhVMZscJTxkmzAfMlwcLoeaqh2ORT07AwhVF2EWimjVWoLbYCu5Fy07hUS9mv7gDPO5Nsf7LiXfilCoFFLYvFdRTLDENO2bjVZAzfRUTEcCHIfJNueZId-pYCu8Y/s320/Butt+Bread.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing like a good loaf of "butt bread" to start off a cozy weekend. This didn't turn out quite like I thought it would</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">When I went for a run
or walk in India, 95% of the time I would finish with really high blood
pressure. Mainly because I feared the
dogs, monkeys, cows, etc. that shared the road with me. I remember thinking to myself that I looked
forward to being able to go for a run in the States without fear. Well, this week all my animal fears came
rushing back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Incident number
one. It is really quite dark out at 6:15
a.m. in the morning here in Northern Minnesota.
I was starting a run and, not even out of my parent’s driveway yet, I
heard a very loud and daunting huffing/snorting noise from the woods, like five
feet away. Needless to say, I bolted
back to the house, and my fear kept me in my parent’s yard, running laps. Can you believe what a chicken I was? I knew it was a deer, there are tracks
galore, but logic did not win out - irrational fear did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Second incident took
place on Saturday morning. Again, going
for a run. About 11:00 a.m., total
daylight. Now, let me back up a bit to
India. There was a very specific time,
on a run, that I got myself boxed in by crazy dogs on one side and crazy
monkeys on the other. I chose monkeys, and
ran my hardest under the trees where they lurked. Blood pressure sky high. Okay, back to present day. Saturday morning, quaint dirt road on a
beautiful fall day. I came upon two
dogs... I stayed calm, slowed down, got by them. Whew. Jogging
on, came up four dogs. Four I say. Still, two behind me. I totally panicked. And a mail car passed me just then. I started waving my hands and shouting out,
“Excuse Me! Hello! Excuse Me, Hello!” - got his attention, so I
ran up to his car. Note: mail driver was
about 20 years old, with loads of tattoos and piercings. (I am all about loads
of tattoos and piercings, it just kind of makes the story that much more
ridiculous.) So, I said to him, “I am
like crazy scared of dogs (I am panting and sweating mind you), umm, could you
like follow my out to the main highway until I know the dogs are not going to
chomp me to pieces?” I have no pride
people. Gone. Done.
The guy was great and said sure.
So, there I went and he followed me for a good half a mile until I was
safely on the road. He then proceeded to
follow me some more, and double back once, and I thought, “Great, I got past
the dogs, but now I am going to be kidnapped...” Alas, I kept on running, mail guy continued
on his route and I went back to the
house, with sky high blood pressure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><o:p>My quaint Saturday morning running route, dogs and all</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I know that was a
totally long story, but I just had to share it.
It is often good for me that some of the hard things that were in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">India</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> for us did not just stay in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">India</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">.
They came with us. And they are
still here for us to work through. So as
to not “blame” </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">India</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">, but know that it’s more about me and my
own silliness to work through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Last week I mentioned
my dad’s health and that he was going to be “back to his own foxy self in no
time”. Well, the foxy self will be a bit
delayed, but will come in time. After
going down to Mayo Clinic last week to check on a few things after his stroke,
we found out that he needs open heart surgery.
So, on Friday, my very brave Dad is going to get his chest
“cracked-open” as he likes to say. And
my very brave Mom will be right there with him.
And their daughter too. </span></div>
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Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com1Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-66383606058321919192011-09-19T22:24:00.000-05:002011-09-19T22:25:51.727-05:00A New Week Has Arrived<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06S7RkopJRa0OT8KOg7RS4UOiMN5e7slVXxtOGnHQYzFw3PTOtFsiDmdQ0Pgyuyk_CL0OHzjwLxSE1t3SKaVCmep0pHfzF998KuRs52q0IrVx8AdOpWg75cRfUTwEHAHnue_8j2W2Z4A/s1600/Jovie+First+Day+Preschool.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06S7RkopJRa0OT8KOg7RS4UOiMN5e7slVXxtOGnHQYzFw3PTOtFsiDmdQ0Pgyuyk_CL0OHzjwLxSE1t3SKaVCmep0pHfzF998KuRs52q0IrVx8AdOpWg75cRfUTwEHAHnue_8j2W2Z4A/s320/Jovie+First+Day+Preschool.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie's first day of ECFE with mommy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTTWXmO-0Bo6J5aw74v-EumhwlIBixz53wHGrxQ-ySh88VrGDozbUZYHUaTYa7nHjkD08qk_yu3Aeu-xbxiEJOrWn6YXJdfv6xSd7EEQEBwGDEQrIIUJnIl8KonsesCjefXwuEPshoVk/s1600/Lake+Bemidji.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTTWXmO-0Bo6J5aw74v-EumhwlIBixz53wHGrxQ-ySh88VrGDozbUZYHUaTYa7nHjkD08qk_yu3Aeu-xbxiEJOrWn6YXJdfv6xSd7EEQEBwGDEQrIIUJnIl8KonsesCjefXwuEPshoVk/s320/Lake+Bemidji.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gorgeous view of Lake Bemidji</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKWJA7CZ1MJoQu_EgNdu5yDSfSAMxu6HXIG_MqxkyDtWC0VJRZ5-t10IrBhHqJJSoP7ysQy0wdw4OrFo2HDj9PMuiSp5YtipBb8C-CwIGdAVcpbFpkTXD8bglmdTXgZkdLSMITl-8zrc/s1600/Sweeping+Roof+Ani+James.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKWJA7CZ1MJoQu_EgNdu5yDSfSAMxu6HXIG_MqxkyDtWC0VJRZ5-t10IrBhHqJJSoP7ysQy0wdw4OrFo2HDj9PMuiSp5YtipBb8C-CwIGdAVcpbFpkTXD8bglmdTXgZkdLSMITl-8zrc/s320/Sweeping+Roof+Ani+James.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weekend chores - sweeping pine needles off the roof<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<span class="s1">I was asking the kids tonight at dinner, which I lovingly prepared, what was the most surprising moment of their day. Very quickly James fires off, “The most surprising moment of my day is that this dinner actually tasted good.” Well, I asked didn’t I? What was the most surprising moment of your day?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The most frequented place I go these days is the grocery store. The second is the dentist. They just love my teeth so much that they cannot get enough of them. Or... I had three cavities and a wisdom tooth that needed to be pulled. You choose the correct answer. Anyway, I was sitting in the dentist’s chair last Wednesday and I was letting him know to be careful of my canker sore that is the size of Detroit. And as he saw it he asked, “Are you stressed out or something?” And I awkwardly said, as his hands were in my mouth, “Well, my dad had a stroke a few days back, my husband’s been out of town working hard to find a job, and my daughter is going to have her tonsils and adenoids out tomorrow...” I really didn’t mean to say it all, but I just did. I felt like my canker sore deserved a minor applause. So, it’s been a bit of a 10 days. But it’s Monday. A new day. A new week has arrived and I say, Go Team! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sydney and I had quite the fun night in the hospital sharing the bed</td></tr>
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So, backing up a bit, my poor dad had a stroke. I will not give a doctor’s report, but he is rapidly improving and will be back to his normal, foxy self in no time. But while walking alongside his trauma and my parent’s stress of his unknown health issues, I was pretty grateful to be around, to be able to hear real-time updates, to run and get him that sandwich he was craving, to be able to intercept all the phone calls of people wanting to know the latest, to be told a number of times by family and friends “if there is anything we can do, just ask”, to bring his four grandkids in a couple times to let them ask a 101 questions about the hospital room, and then to celebrate when he was able to to come home from the hospital. I say, Go Dad!</div>
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Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com3Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-87116199658681611252011-09-06T22:09:00.001-05:002011-09-06T22:37:35.125-05:00Noodlie-Doodlie<div style="text-align: center;">
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The Palm Six, Living in Bemidji</div>
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I just made a really yum scrum peach and blueberry cobbler. I’ve been dreaming of peaches for two plus years. Crates of peaches are being sold in a beat up van that sits in the parking lot right next to my parent’s shop. The same guy, the same beat up van, not the same peaches (but similar tasting peaches), the same parking lot, for as long as I can remember. I love the steady-on practices that unfold in the midst of our transition.</div>
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<span class="s1">It seems appropriate for some reason to blog today. First day of school, I guess. Ani, James and Sydney all made their way into Schoolcraft Learning Community. It’s a charter school out by my parent’s house. Nothing, other than lakes and woods, are out by my folks - except Concordia Language Villages. Which, on the property of their French Camp, houses the charter school during the school year. We feel grateful for the five minute drive to the small school in the woods. I thought for the last month or so that we would be out at the school that I went to as a kid, which would be a bit trippy. But this opportunity came along, and noodlie-doodlie, to Schoolcraft we go.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">I’ve only been away from Bemidji for 15 years, but coming back as a resident-in-limbo does catch me off guard sometimes. Okay, most days. Today, I was grocery shopping at the same grocery store that my family has shopped at for ages, and I ran into the mom of a friend that I grew up with. Barb was the first stay at home mom that I ever knew. And back in the day, stay at home mom’s were a bit rare. I kind of had a moment in the grocery store today - not having any clue when I was snatching cookies out of her freezer 25 years ago that I would be a stay at home mom as well. Or, in both Ani and James’ classes, they have buddies that are the sons and daughters of good friends of mine that I grew up with. Or, Jayson and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary by going canoeing of Lake Bemidji, a lake that I played on since I was a kid. The contrast of coming back from India, a place that was so foreign to us, to place that was my home for all of my growing up years, is all a bit foreboding. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">I’ve been making photo albums of our time in India for each of the kids. I do not hesitate to tell you that I have weeped with every child as I look back on who they were when we first boarded the plane to who they are now. I have been kind of avoiding the task of the needed photo albums, in part because I am rubbish at making photo albums, in part because I emotionally could not muster the energy to pick out 20 pages of pics that best describe each child’s life. But here I am, both cursing my horrific inabilities and sniffling through the process. Three and half down, and the other half of Jovie’s will be done in the coming nights. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">First Days in India for The Palm Six</span><br />
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<span class="s1">Jayson heads down to Minneapolis tomorrow for the rest of the week. His goal is to be down three days a week, every week for the month of September. 70% of jobs are found through networking, so noodlie-doolie, to networking we go. He’s really been hard at it for the last two months. Every month is ramped up another notch. We still stand with hope and courage that a job is just around the corner. Most days we stand that way, it would be untrue of me to not tell you I do have my moments of slum-bummin’ it, that’s for sure. The peach and blueberry cobbler tastes that much sweeter in those moments, which I am grateful for.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">On a separate, side note, thanks to all of you for your cheers for me to keep on writing. Along with the comments on the blog, I also got a nice round of fun emails from you all. Thank you, thank you. That was not my intent in posing that question to you all, but thanks nonetheless. I am going to keep on blogging. But a few changes will happen. We are not going to keep on emailing you when I have a new post. There are about 400 people that read the blog and only 40 plus that are signed up through the blog to automatically receive it. So, Jayson is going to type out below about how to subscribe to the blog, so you can receive an email through the blogging service when I do blog. I think I will shorten my blogs as well, try to keep them weekly again, and I have no idea what I am going to write about, but I do want to write, so noodlie-doodlie, to writing I go.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">How to receive notification in your email every time Tarrah posts a new blog:</span><br />
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<li>Look to the right and find the heading "Subscribe Via Email",</li>
<li>Click in the box just below "Enter your email address" and type your email address,</li>
<li>Finally, click "Subscribe".</li>
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Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com7Bemidji, MN 56601, USA47.4736111 -94.880277847.4306796 -94.9592418 47.5165426 -94.8013138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-22879438967668348082011-07-19T22:00:00.000-05:002011-07-19T22:00:34.059-05:00Dipping Chapati into Ketchup<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhod3ALn8asJk6BP234vQNj6gIeMHIlwF0iRctAcOE39sCkQGnpkOxInf7fopThbgwqLaB24HbDnbzTaRQuZKK_1xllwzKCcVyvFIyo84vLqlOtqedlmOaaNFsSuMLqRjZsQwpaoktn8vA/s1600/Photo+422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhod3ALn8asJk6BP234vQNj6gIeMHIlwF0iRctAcOE39sCkQGnpkOxInf7fopThbgwqLaB24HbDnbzTaRQuZKK_1xllwzKCcVyvFIyo84vLqlOtqedlmOaaNFsSuMLqRjZsQwpaoktn8vA/s320/Photo+422.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">I am eating frozen blueberries. They are my favorite evening treat during the summer. Take a fresh pint of blueberries, wash, freeze on a cookie sheet and then toss into a Zippie in the freezer. My mom does it for me. She’s a gem. I do love the perks of living with my folks. Another perk is that Jayson and I are able to go for a run in the morning together whilst the children are snoozing and my mom is getting ready for work. Together. Did you hear that? Glorious. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">I am not sure if you recall my blog about the Wolfe boys... our friends Sarah and Chris, who live in Texas, have five boys, all around our kid’s ages. Well, Sarah flew me down there to spend time together (and fabulous it was) and then for me to also help fly her oldest back to Minneapolis to spend a bit more time with his grandparents... Anyway, I had this squirrelly idea to bring James with me. Previously, James had been feeling restless with his three sisters and no friends around, so what better therapy than to bring him to destination Camp Wolfe in Texas with me? And he had the time of his life. All boys, all the time. We swam, we watched baseball, we played Legos, we watched Cars 2, we went to Sonic, we stayed up late. It was such a pleasure to see James totally able to let loose and have fun. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Bemidji. My parent’s house. This time.... for me, has high monastic-like qualities. I do say that with a smile on my face, knowing that I have four young kids around. But I cannot tell you how true it is. Monastic in the sense of quietude and simplicity. It’s the way I know how to heal right now. My reading companions currently are really quite thoughtful and solitary as well. I just finished the Dietrich Bonhoeffer biography. I cried at the end. Even though it is a whopper of book, it’s a really great read. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">The Palm Six are okay. I feel like on any given today we are so grateful to be at my parent’s house. The enjoyment and freedom of playing, in an uninterrupted schedule. Today, Jovie did not want the grilled cheese I was making for lunch, so I gave her some curry and chapati (Indian flat bread). She didn’t want the curry, but asked for ketchup instead. So, merry on she went dipping her chapati into ketchup. That’s us. Leaving a tremendous amount of space for things that don’t make sense. And trying not to take ourselves too seriously.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Jayson is a total rock star in looking for a job. I am so proud of him. Tomorrow he drives down to Minneapolis for a handful of interviews and a dozen networking meetings. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Enough about him. I am not altogether sure what to with my blog. To write or not to write is the question. I am so heady right now. I don’t really have any bizarre stories, and I don’t even have a camera to take shots of the kids doing what we do here... I don’t know people. What’s that phrase, the jury is still out on the verdict. Is that right? Oh well, would love to hear from you about what I should do about the blog. Let the people speak. </span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-89472361597887493272011-06-20T23:03:00.001-05:002011-06-20T23:05:18.959-05:00Nutty as a Fruitcake<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our favorite road trip pic</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Happy birthday Syd! - June 19</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDbjx_MHAndjb8EB6cnGyCe56p3vcrSBMckZ1Y58Z67osGibf-jBym_A1nwEj646otqewfOyDzQQZiEZMs1qig_fBJ6VbNs9qsFkrckR8qNoc-61MxgRLtv2hqM1cPFQwzBBKm_tXomw/s1600/PICT0515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDbjx_MHAndjb8EB6cnGyCe56p3vcrSBMckZ1Y58Z67osGibf-jBym_A1nwEj646otqewfOyDzQQZiEZMs1qig_fBJ6VbNs9qsFkrckR8qNoc-61MxgRLtv2hqM1cPFQwzBBKm_tXomw/s320/PICT0515.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlsuWm3g8Y8Hb4OcelrvlgNNLTT_cgqyPpYuLmYI70KdnGxU84KEXYMvgWmTurTj5gA8EH35IYL3kKW2WXypZFD4bi4K6MQpcaKCyAJsos5e13ViWkLZ1qBGd5oIFkw4hocGdZv72F30/s1600/PICT0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlsuWm3g8Y8Hb4OcelrvlgNNLTT_cgqyPpYuLmYI70KdnGxU84KEXYMvgWmTurTj5gA8EH35IYL3kKW2WXypZFD4bi4K6MQpcaKCyAJsos5e13ViWkLZ1qBGd5oIFkw4hocGdZv72F30/s320/PICT0528.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTj411ssxPquCXo-uH3mQ4NWjULEFkGYa_L7Tve6JlxeCjJrQN6tYgVBhZnr1zGq_6P9hToZBl4tTj3GDP0IwMKrishFfqYd0Lm9Fyj-k_C73hiwX7YDf1dgIa444p2IeK7uu-P9IDNPE/s1600/PICT0530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTj411ssxPquCXo-uH3mQ4NWjULEFkGYa_L7Tve6JlxeCjJrQN6tYgVBhZnr1zGq_6P9hToZBl4tTj3GDP0IwMKrishFfqYd0Lm9Fyj-k_C73hiwX7YDf1dgIa444p2IeK7uu-P9IDNPE/s320/PICT0530.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><span class="s1">Where I am writing right now is in front of a very large mirror. I am not sure how I feel about that. I see that my newly waxed eyebrows and covered-up gray hair are looking quite... hmm, well, to be honest, fresh. And I kind of like it. Today, I am a new age. 34. And all in one day, my mom colored my hair and she sent me in for an eyebrow wax, facial, and pedicure. All in one day I say. My body is a bit shocked. And I’ve got this cute new red zip-up sweatshirt that Jayson got me... I guess I am just ready. Ready for this 34th year. Ready for... well, I don’t know. We’ve got jobs, home, schools, neighborhood, health insurance, pediatricians... all to be filled in. And my new eyebrows and red sweatshirt are ready.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">When I last left you, we were packing up to go on a road trip. Rockford, Chicago, St. Louis, Nashville, Wisconsin Dells, and back to Bemidji. It was quite the trip. We covered some sweet mileage and spent time with very great friends and family along the way. I am going to attempt something very challenging for me, but because I am 34 now, I am going to do just do it. And my vacuumed out facial pores are going to help me. I am going to sum up each stop in two sentences. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Rockford (where Jayson was born): Jayson’s mom hung out with the kids while we went into Chicago for the weekend - she is a total rock star. Loved seeing Jayson’s grandpa (Mor Far) and other aunts, uncles, and cousins.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><br />
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<span class="s1">Chicago: Talked for two straight days with our friends/mentors about our time in India, current status, and what’s to come. We walked out of that weekend with a better understanding of why we are as nutty as a fruitcake currently and started the process of healing - we are so appreciative of them.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">St. Louis: Had great fun with Jayson’s sister and her family (we give a shout out to Denver, our newest nephew, born June 12) and Jayson’s folks. I loved watching the cousins and adults get back into the groove like no time has past. </span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Fun with the cousins in St. Louis</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC9pgzoRFJ1mHGxL9CPIjJIaXCMljcKcucwFx56WQSUGbMO9k6zjwGdIgWv9rMTZMENoJipLlI1hTN2HD8foT_K6q5mQMFoG42UXb5kscjQzx6YWGJh9q5j-Ih3Xg2QjGoGb4wShkTmY/s1600/PICT0409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC9pgzoRFJ1mHGxL9CPIjJIaXCMljcKcucwFx56WQSUGbMO9k6zjwGdIgWv9rMTZMENoJipLlI1hTN2HD8foT_K6q5mQMFoG42UXb5kscjQzx6YWGJh9q5j-Ih3Xg2QjGoGb4wShkTmY/s320/PICT0409.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25ND7nQxCEV942SmvONiZMe0aBFpAbQrzbzDtjE1bcKKAxSaRkRXQGDQVIq4CDcQ4CRCEohcbYC8OSzOaAcHQ2wmbv3Tl4pU60lI4WzN1QoEKwmc62Ywhtaf4f-zpzgMfdJWnL1LhxEw/s1600/PICT0418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25ND7nQxCEV942SmvONiZMe0aBFpAbQrzbzDtjE1bcKKAxSaRkRXQGDQVIq4CDcQ4CRCEohcbYC8OSzOaAcHQ2wmbv3Tl4pU60lI4WzN1QoEKwmc62Ywhtaf4f-zpzgMfdJWnL1LhxEw/s320/PICT0418.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFn-yzAmeUGuKNBw9Ujc3WMIs7ZZbLeGKi_8wwEpN2mxVtj93HqX56ciEuVqxLRIUIL7a6FHkc-tMqhlaIVBKKFuYlGw0yRJmXiqZhZNoCYliBgaSEeFtEG1Gui9Kqtx-VC56SIGPMoc/s1600/PICT0422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFn-yzAmeUGuKNBw9Ujc3WMIs7ZZbLeGKi_8wwEpN2mxVtj93HqX56ciEuVqxLRIUIL7a6FHkc-tMqhlaIVBKKFuYlGw0yRJmXiqZhZNoCYliBgaSEeFtEG1Gui9Kqtx-VC56SIGPMoc/s320/PICT0422.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhed-dCkLO9xhrBd2gH3f7_PFxfLR3lhkVEUOncdv2s3o-4QboqrQrlSHTCRrt8Udag1uZz_M1PgNZGPo94usDoB3dmpJBG0nqe9e4J0V9f-MnFZly65BNuBOCVzAbarSJLmK5ztN5wqU8/s1600/PICT0429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhed-dCkLO9xhrBd2gH3f7_PFxfLR3lhkVEUOncdv2s3o-4QboqrQrlSHTCRrt8Udag1uZz_M1PgNZGPo94usDoB3dmpJBG0nqe9e4J0V9f-MnFZly65BNuBOCVzAbarSJLmK5ztN5wqU8/s320/PICT0429.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOQ0PVVHo6jMQMi_j6tm_7kZo-wzSH8r6ISO_iUXTYOsbybeI7MSaKIlTtVK7fkPkLMZGfbQHUJp4QCxpKRy2oIDUDd5pNpanSAeZm9YdisbFev76jLJISfCALXm1mG4_gRPsi0aebmM/s1600/PICT0438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOQ0PVVHo6jMQMi_j6tm_7kZo-wzSH8r6ISO_iUXTYOsbybeI7MSaKIlTtVK7fkPkLMZGfbQHUJp4QCxpKRy2oIDUDd5pNpanSAeZm9YdisbFev76jLJISfCALXm1mG4_gRPsi0aebmM/s320/PICT0438.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Nashville: Who knew Tennessee was two states away from Florida (we got pretty south)? Spent a very merry weekend with Jayson’s other sister and husband, trying to catch a glimpse of their world, and loving it.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapITq51eHZEjpNsYW3TyXpTkYM2ItMRjYDP9kDUvO95e3UpDxbeYT6mkjFQxU2wdJZ4EcZ7NTNwdGDW02a6tLVBBtGFZvl_jvOgsSIwB7qzjKXd95sXuC9O5dpQNUhgV8yuZ7MGX3kMI/s1600/PICT0448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapITq51eHZEjpNsYW3TyXpTkYM2ItMRjYDP9kDUvO95e3UpDxbeYT6mkjFQxU2wdJZ4EcZ7NTNwdGDW02a6tLVBBtGFZvl_jvOgsSIwB7qzjKXd95sXuC9O5dpQNUhgV8yuZ7MGX3kMI/s320/PICT0448.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Wisconsin Dells: This was an 18 hour pit stop - the half way point between Nashville and Bemidji. It turned out to be a wonderfully fun and needed time for the Palm Six to just be us.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wdko8uLbf7KXEhEbvtC8W6NM3IMLijNPD6tOpLE3_2vW_-OWqzeDT9XobgVL5VePh5hcdP3uhnoNMCehTote9c1aG0664ITWQgKRC7pgx-y3vysLyymh1R64wTFw8TKohZh_t41_PYE/s1600/PICT0455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wdko8uLbf7KXEhEbvtC8W6NM3IMLijNPD6tOpLE3_2vW_-OWqzeDT9XobgVL5VePh5hcdP3uhnoNMCehTote9c1aG0664ITWQgKRC7pgx-y3vysLyymh1R64wTFw8TKohZh_t41_PYE/s320/PICT0455.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4pNFd5Tt7LYzo5N9jXWVU0PFkX9dduCgemkpztnOnaE9kxac1PsDxu1e1j71zxszd3b0XhAjWclX9HvSBh3Ct5YQlI4rKEyE1Y_QttBUu9Tg3mjorZMUSOp_CttD4ZCGIPx7mIvvtZc/s1600/PICT0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4pNFd5Tt7LYzo5N9jXWVU0PFkX9dduCgemkpztnOnaE9kxac1PsDxu1e1j71zxszd3b0XhAjWclX9HvSBh3Ct5YQlI4rKEyE1Y_QttBUu9Tg3mjorZMUSOp_CttD4ZCGIPx7mIvvtZc/s320/PICT0464.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2PJ7YF6hreWGyL9pPQrzIQaF_JLY8B_SjhpoE9uFu6DKjS-fnLGUni9UAJhykbt7UIBV8_I8qcFtj9i7WRNGFSFKXF7rjw0sHohppQdZfWRB9SDAZtskIZ_AZbLjR4fDLnyL6ScdZZg/s1600/PICT0466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2PJ7YF6hreWGyL9pPQrzIQaF_JLY8B_SjhpoE9uFu6DKjS-fnLGUni9UAJhykbt7UIBV8_I8qcFtj9i7WRNGFSFKXF7rjw0sHohppQdZfWRB9SDAZtskIZ_AZbLjR4fDLnyL6ScdZZg/s320/PICT0466.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">I did it, two sentences each, but I totally wiggled around with the parenthesis, commas, and hyphens. Yikes. We were on the road for a total of 40 hours, the same amount of time it took us to get back from India. The kids asked if we can withhold a bit from the 40-hour-block traveling in the near future.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">A few days after we got back to Bemidji we did take another long weekend down to Minneapolis/Owatonna for a few family showers and a graduation. Again, it’s great to reconnect with family. We also spent a few days with Sarah, David, and kids. The kids were a bit beside themselves that we have been in the States and hadn’t seen the Landt kids. We’ve missed them.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">I am not quite sure what to say about our current status, folks. I do know that change takes courage. And we are in a whole lot of change. Not just change, but recovery as well. Some days I feel like change is for the birds, other days I have a bit more gumption. Soon, I will start sharing in more detail... but for now, this is all I got. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-2851487070795287402011-05-26T22:31:00.001-05:002011-05-26T22:31:47.883-05:00Quite the Lovely Evening<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQre22uDwPGQ6L1BLCuOpIlDURMNIPrYsQKukBLmueHb1EOVeiCcNO1zuF0kKfWXOoDPqXdhwm4FYGMdWghCClr5Xs32k3jCXqrp1kb2Sf7A2MlvvNOyvgV6yNavqjdnU6Ey3KyfVT8mE/s1600/Tarrah+and+Jayson+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQre22uDwPGQ6L1BLCuOpIlDURMNIPrYsQKukBLmueHb1EOVeiCcNO1zuF0kKfWXOoDPqXdhwm4FYGMdWghCClr5Xs32k3jCXqrp1kb2Sf7A2MlvvNOyvgV6yNavqjdnU6Ey3KyfVT8mE/s320/Tarrah+and+Jayson+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gd08zC3163tubMlGPLgydSEmQggKAlLJ9lboJhXifQe6J58ZK9cMS-2WNfE8Za267a1Pg7lUaX66nG016j5DyZSoaT_EgM8oaaOmY4Ag4vumDrZ_bQYSzCWr8Jto9IpHoSUcKwWBjlY/s1600/Return+Trip.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gd08zC3163tubMlGPLgydSEmQggKAlLJ9lboJhXifQe6J58ZK9cMS-2WNfE8Za267a1Pg7lUaX66nG016j5DyZSoaT_EgM8oaaOmY4Ag4vumDrZ_bQYSzCWr8Jto9IpHoSUcKwWBjlY/s320/Return+Trip.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmbOqtO7kVWvrGeZG8oCGKM05QsPMd32UzfkhuCzg0t2BbbCDvKSrh1XT4yBZUSpv8f7El4S8LLqxzFv5NNRcwuz_cy39tEYvyxXXQua5DmPYAkLRIYFZnKS-PyLxWo3P8WpQ-TYW6a4/s1600/To+Do+List.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmbOqtO7kVWvrGeZG8oCGKM05QsPMd32UzfkhuCzg0t2BbbCDvKSrh1XT4yBZUSpv8f7El4S8LLqxzFv5NNRcwuz_cy39tEYvyxXXQua5DmPYAkLRIYFZnKS-PyLxWo3P8WpQ-TYW6a4/s320/To+Do+List.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adding to the all-important "to do" list</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It's quite the lovely evening here in northern Minnesota. It's actually what everyone imagines a northern Minnesota evening to be. If one has ever imagined about it I guess. It's about 65 degrees Fahrenheit. Slight breeze. A Minnesota Twins baseball game is playing on the radio in the background. My dad is tinkering on his fishing boat. A mosquito is buzzing around my head and I just pulled a wood tick off my back, which always weirds me out. Anyway, this is our current reality, just thought I would let you in on it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Its been about 2 ½ weeks since I last wrote. Let's back up a bit. Our last few days in India went relatively smooth. Sarah successfully packed us up and Jayson finished training in a new Freedom Firm staff. I know I will sound cliché, but it's oh so true... I had been so grateful for our friends these last 2 ½ years in India, but I really didn't feel the magnitude of how great our friendships were until we were saying our goodbyes, until we gave our last hugs, until I saw their tears and mine, until they prayed with us, until I read their cards, until we were driving away, until I felt a deep sense of loss as I was driving down the mountain for the last time. The nature of goodbyes are a bit awful really, I always feel stormy inside. I miss you dear friends.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buckingham, Ketchum, and Palm families</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you Sarah</td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbs4T3MtbRoF4s5PfGaG-CwN4xdYCruwKpulYU2uf5QnUZ2z_BmRVYoJ_2L77bAoeGts-84TUylxdnZxj3vJ-9BHo-Lc06SlIfl5NUp9KnKVQNHZNgoAwPnLlWHOvgmqIqS7AZGOxhqRQ/s1600/Three+Musketeers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbs4T3MtbRoF4s5PfGaG-CwN4xdYCruwKpulYU2uf5QnUZ2z_BmRVYoJ_2L77bAoeGts-84TUylxdnZxj3vJ-9BHo-Lc06SlIfl5NUp9KnKVQNHZNgoAwPnLlWHOvgmqIqS7AZGOxhqRQ/s320/Three+Musketeers.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwON3xRDyD7bFlZ8i2OzQL9WHf6hrdCx9UxLUVskASDXspBHWAk41wyaPTzwpkScKL9eLSqKas0nfcTB6L1TM6DF3sgp0uu7a6xfLk-V4rcZ-tZyk_3QBvDowW4qU67sQK4Umw5kDJIUY/s1600/FF+Staff+at+Going+Away+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwON3xRDyD7bFlZ8i2OzQL9WHf6hrdCx9UxLUVskASDXspBHWAk41wyaPTzwpkScKL9eLSqKas0nfcTB6L1TM6DF3sgp0uu7a6xfLk-V4rcZ-tZyk_3QBvDowW4qU67sQK4Umw5kDJIUY/s320/FF+Staff+at+Going+Away+Party.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Firm staff at the farewell</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Our plane ride was rather uneventful. Lots of sitting, lots of TV watching on the planes. I would like to kiss whomever put those sweet personal TV's on British Airways flights. I have loved them since I met them nearly 10 years ago. Our trip was extended a bit at the end by 4 hours, but after 30 plus hours of travel already, it all kind of blurs together. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Photos of the journey home</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTB41PaX5mne4aVHH6M3yCKqS7-Qj1XggB-BUh7VTEXIoE-5-3kT6kHBvQftv9pMUUAvTbS_0ShKtJuVXv1g9qQ-gijhqYze0begSzVt4sHGBeUo4XRju2R1GHeGiGCiVIsMxJ50sHvM/s1600/Travel+Home+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTB41PaX5mne4aVHH6M3yCKqS7-Qj1XggB-BUh7VTEXIoE-5-3kT6kHBvQftv9pMUUAvTbS_0ShKtJuVXv1g9qQ-gijhqYze0begSzVt4sHGBeUo4XRju2R1GHeGiGCiVIsMxJ50sHvM/s320/Travel+Home+2.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUDEhRj7GFDZUv8t3fTkC1rnLmyZheWfFpKGw3JPJdW_SoAJ2fS8D5U2-CgU-907Yoiz5Kl3ZwUAxAhUwJYcaWnMrizmd9rXVsAry37i6eGxe856c4qr9SU8jR0GKFhxyJ1aMmGyCx4c/s1600/Sydney+Travel+Home+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUDEhRj7GFDZUv8t3fTkC1rnLmyZheWfFpKGw3JPJdW_SoAJ2fS8D5U2-CgU-907Yoiz5Kl3ZwUAxAhUwJYcaWnMrizmd9rXVsAry37i6eGxe856c4qr9SU8jR0GKFhxyJ1aMmGyCx4c/s320/Sydney+Travel+Home+2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xGh6V4X_WgOzhYLbTqxZjP4GelCkS7NuJImajUJ8vJRdyeCM-TKPHXO-pi-Hy9BCePflX2ZOpLIrGUQTtofLOPikhdfDciLqwxvJKOsgXS1zvWqB4ci1LB3YBHLMyFFrk3MtxPow3Yo/s1600/Travel+Home+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xGh6V4X_WgOzhYLbTqxZjP4GelCkS7NuJImajUJ8vJRdyeCM-TKPHXO-pi-Hy9BCePflX2ZOpLIrGUQTtofLOPikhdfDciLqwxvJKOsgXS1zvWqB4ci1LB3YBHLMyFFrk3MtxPow3Yo/s320/Travel+Home+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We have been a bit reclusive these last 10 days. Well, I have been. Jayson has been forced (with gratitude) to enter into the world with a few interviews and a trip down to Minneapolis. We have enjoyed the peace of my parent's house. The first few days back I was at an all time of high of coo-cooness. It was the combination of being tired from the actual move, the grotesque jet-lag, trying to get my head around what had just happened and knowing the future is a bit of a blank slate. I feel better now. I still have a long way to go, but I am hopeful. In a few days we are heading down to Chicago to meet with some dear friends, Dave and Glenda, to help us start wading through all that we have done and been through in regards to India and Freedom Firm. These friends of ours are wise, insightful, show great hospitality, and validate well. Dave actually officiated our wedding. We are thankful for them.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We will continue on from Chicago to St. Louis to see Jayson's folks and sister's family. Then on to Nashville to see Jayson's other sister. We will be on the road for about 11 days and we are glad for it. Yesterday, I had to go to the bank for about a 10 minute meeting and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed about taking the kids with me. And the thought I had was, I would rather take the kids on a 40 hour plane/taxi ride/journey than take them to the bank. Some of those kinds of feelings take up a large part of my re-entry back. I don't make a lot of sense right now. I am not super fun or light to be around. That's okay for now. The kids are reeling as well. From the outside, they probably look fine, but they have their own sort of transitioning as well. They all have had super weird tummies since we got back, picking up all sorts of new kinds of bacteria to get used to. They are in a bit of slow motion, taking everything in. They are wanting to tell people their stories, where they have just come from, what they have just been through, but are finding it difficult. That's okay for now too. Jayson has one foot in transitioning and one foot in finding a job. Which is also sort of weird. He's a bit wonky as well. Oh well, what's a family of six that just moved back from India to do... Be wonky, eat ice-cream, and try to put one foot in front of the other. Until after the road trip... </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie was sad to say goodbye to Naseema</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RwmPh8QbKmMazTtI5N8JZYK3qX7DjQRAD316P0RcDfISZ8w6kkIqakQmlIpMl2nFe3_wqtOQpaMRL9jAzvZAXlwFFPcl-Pm63eT0e48iMOUf7n0P1SvJEl0Q4CpKmL4K8sf8Bv62Hm8/s1600/Palm+Kids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RwmPh8QbKmMazTtI5N8JZYK3qX7DjQRAD316P0RcDfISZ8w6kkIqakQmlIpMl2nFe3_wqtOQpaMRL9jAzvZAXlwFFPcl-Pm63eT0e48iMOUf7n0P1SvJEl0Q4CpKmL4K8sf8Bv62Hm8/s320/Palm+Kids.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last day at Hebron School</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kKwdkx1YbuS5cpm3s1rBF_9TPoLvmGdApGxPAOYY9y36wvI3ZFJ5cAHpxdDFPRRklGbnI9Rlo1_QyxWeeeAJxj5T-zhklDJ0hm2hsquQ9QwRUWIw3IlqbC0vtE1c3zjrYci9AuxH5pU/s1600/Saying+Goodbye.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kKwdkx1YbuS5cpm3s1rBF_9TPoLvmGdApGxPAOYY9y36wvI3ZFJ5cAHpxdDFPRRklGbnI9Rlo1_QyxWeeeAJxj5T-zhklDJ0hm2hsquQ9QwRUWIw3IlqbC0vtE1c3zjrYci9AuxH5pU/s320/Saying+Goodbye.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was sad saying goodbye</td></tr>
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</div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-87351783899691080412011-05-08T10:53:00.000-05:002011-05-08T10:53:57.001-05:00Goodbye for Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just some fun kid pictures for you, from their last weeks of school</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuKPxfTINaAySiOIWq7TrGVMnC1sIEmx6TT8ynI5RzLl9ZOsYm50C2Y5Mg6cJ8ba7kVawv6V0Pq9AOPVL1N6VVvPZHg-7XtV_rqHySFneJRWFF6VUIXdDY3jkZ6lOWY_5Z79OrDl6zto/s1600/Ani+Last+Week.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuKPxfTINaAySiOIWq7TrGVMnC1sIEmx6TT8ynI5RzLl9ZOsYm50C2Y5Mg6cJ8ba7kVawv6V0Pq9AOPVL1N6VVvPZHg-7XtV_rqHySFneJRWFF6VUIXdDY3jkZ6lOWY_5Z79OrDl6zto/s320/Ani+Last+Week.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrZPQnaJ9xvWnZeFI3QjxIwXj0bu_YlslcY7D5FLZw-Aq1IvP4Yd1Ciu0bjQTgSUh9JtQT3IfHCFot1f8go76da1g2-rSSVDI6VtJiMooYQlgL71J2tVlVvI7NHAG_qsLytah8qkncHE/s1600/James+Last+Week.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrZPQnaJ9xvWnZeFI3QjxIwXj0bu_YlslcY7D5FLZw-Aq1IvP4Yd1Ciu0bjQTgSUh9JtQT3IfHCFot1f8go76da1g2-rSSVDI6VtJiMooYQlgL71J2tVlVvI7NHAG_qsLytah8qkncHE/s320/James+Last+Week.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvhBpgvTqwCzQd03YRH07MB2UdLaSRSyeH-AWHjmALwOnn6ES-WqJ6UDii5gF_Fh9vMksecuEnzVLL3rc3DUMpojs77nLxLKo8e_qC1G-0oWBbcVo1n3D-UYoaTAXUd7hemNAjZVxeig/s1600/Sydney+Last+Week.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvhBpgvTqwCzQd03YRH07MB2UdLaSRSyeH-AWHjmALwOnn6ES-WqJ6UDii5gF_Fh9vMksecuEnzVLL3rc3DUMpojs77nLxLKo8e_qC1G-0oWBbcVo1n3D-UYoaTAXUd7hemNAjZVxeig/s320/Sydney+Last+Week.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7lRcO4Ffqy_l5Qc7ik7l5TJdwlL3ayFrT5B9yF1fNJpMjzonqg0yRd_NnLD7hXGCDNvvq4JatJOh6RoV-LZhkuFnyzqAwFeRJYxd9QiVumpMGX5Y-du3QWpLt8EGsqc6fKRf6B8INMk/s1600/Jovie+Last+Week.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7lRcO4Ffqy_l5Qc7ik7l5TJdwlL3ayFrT5B9yF1fNJpMjzonqg0yRd_NnLD7hXGCDNvvq4JatJOh6RoV-LZhkuFnyzqAwFeRJYxd9QiVumpMGX5Y-du3QWpLt8EGsqc6fKRf6B8INMk/s320/Jovie+Last+Week.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">“All my bags are packed I'm ready to go....</div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">I'm leavin' on a jet plane</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Don't know when I'll be back again.”</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">(John Denver - Again, mad lyric skills)</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Happy Mothers Day! Mom, I will be home in three days. Well, this is the last night we will be in our house. Internet is being shut off tomorrow and we are delivering the mattresses and appliances we sold. Bon voyage Sangeetha Cottage. We will be staying at a hotel tomorrow night, so we can have a jump start on moving out of our house. The kids have school Monday and Tuesday and we will be tying up loose ends. Then Tuesday around 6:00 p.m., we will jump into the vehicle and drive through the night to catch a plane in Bangalore on Wednesday morning. We will fly for awhile, then get into Minneapolis, Wednesday evening. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">On Wednesday, I went to Bangalore to pick up Sarah. Hip hip hooray! It was a sixteen hour trip to pick her up (eight hours each way), but oh so worth it. Sarah came to help us pack up, keep us moving in a forward motion, telling us when to go lay down, love on our kids, and let me talk about all that’s going on inside. You are such a gem Sarah. </span><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="s1"></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTU6jwhhX-qxWy_Vh9E-3z70tLh58xcVh71zzcsVsjMuTxxdWVPoNj0yOSI4piz9C4igHMjjHhpb_saH3ab5Z2mcu4mfgKRz9ABXaBKiHQlPX8h48b6RWNPXbFqbpDRhoyn21J42EoDXY/s1600/Sarah+and+Syd.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTU6jwhhX-qxWy_Vh9E-3z70tLh58xcVh71zzcsVsjMuTxxdWVPoNj0yOSI4piz9C4igHMjjHhpb_saH3ab5Z2mcu4mfgKRz9ABXaBKiHQlPX8h48b6RWNPXbFqbpDRhoyn21J42EoDXY/s320/Sarah+and+Syd.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="s1"><br />
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</div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Yesterday, the kids went to friends’ houses and Sarah and I packed 13 suitcases. Actually I did not pack a single suitcase, I merely placed things in front of her. Jayson has had kind of a crazy week - a new staff and his wife moved to Ooty from England and Jayson has been fast and furious in orientation and running him through job responsibilities and helping them find a place to live. He’s been so crazy finishing up that I am so glad Sarah is here, because I am sure that I would have been doing all the packing and kid stuff by myself, which would of left me curled up in a suitcase and sucking my thumb. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-NI2oNz_98mTNZtI5fYgrjBTllHkw_-PjUz7Sm1FwQ_GNVgcgs4Me1kJpaCwvjUsNns6TskmNnNKRLRnN3AZanRH1FOpPwdSbb2EBVVOBvET0xqsae-0MlbeIEHZ6KeE-cYi39aV1qA/s1600/Packed+Bags.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBVxo4V5zjzV7yCyBZfsFkPXRBKQw9rnU7S5btLW1kBEaX7oob59q_F1aPtm7hAw4M2Ft39BHaopAzHDh8kveK6-59z0ZhfaF10bzjcSYjvO8NJspKJVduSxDZdIVXoHU3m3w68WAlcRE/s1600/Packing+Bags.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBVxo4V5zjzV7yCyBZfsFkPXRBKQw9rnU7S5btLW1kBEaX7oob59q_F1aPtm7hAw4M2Ft39BHaopAzHDh8kveK6-59z0ZhfaF10bzjcSYjvO8NJspKJVduSxDZdIVXoHU3m3w68WAlcRE/s320/Packing+Bags.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-NI2oNz_98mTNZtI5fYgrjBTllHkw_-PjUz7Sm1FwQ_GNVgcgs4Me1kJpaCwvjUsNns6TskmNnNKRLRnN3AZanRH1FOpPwdSbb2EBVVOBvET0xqsae-0MlbeIEHZ6KeE-cYi39aV1qA/s320/Packed+Bags.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
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<div style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-NI2oNz_98mTNZtI5fYgrjBTllHkw_-PjUz7Sm1FwQ_GNVgcgs4Me1kJpaCwvjUsNns6TskmNnNKRLRnN3AZanRH1FOpPwdSbb2EBVVOBvET0xqsae-0MlbeIEHZ6KeE-cYi39aV1qA/s1600/Packed+Bags.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="s1">We’ve had a good week of goodbyes. It’s a bit of an ironic statement. Goodbyes are always a bit dreadful. I need to take really deep breaths, and just when I think I am going to keep it together, it’s like Niagara Falls on my face. Oh well, what’s a girl to do. </span>I am all a bit mixed inside, you can tell by just reading my blog right now, I am kind of all over the map. That’s okay. I will write when we get back and am coherent enough to put a sentence or two together - not that I really can right now, but just wanted to say goodbye, for now. </span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pj92f7g-FAG7wD26Y3hmn_8mxBZdHXG1_xtxX71JzSvc8rgWWDlnOdbK6dJAyVw7y-vOH9XDEXSQVJtpMqteXumPCn3VPuqM-kzNwmHF9vxh4aJEKdeXkomkXVW8K4LrAU5EUl9wTi8/s1600/FF+Farewell+Party.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pj92f7g-FAG7wD26Y3hmn_8mxBZdHXG1_xtxX71JzSvc8rgWWDlnOdbK6dJAyVw7y-vOH9XDEXSQVJtpMqteXumPCn3VPuqM-kzNwmHF9vxh4aJEKdeXkomkXVW8K4LrAU5EUl9wTi8/s320/FF+Farewell+Party.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom Firm leaving party</td></tr>
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</div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-67609182244990039212011-05-02T11:20:00.002-05:002011-05-03T20:29:59.274-05:00Monday, Monday, So Good to Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjYVpZUTYHhTi34nIsHybiruD5OMW1hP4imq716hOE63pe14aLJ5Y962_ZiDRq7ZJE1Efz7ZHhDhJ5DnUHLW-F4ycXdd6B4F_VviU8YWyDzdAkFd5DfUxXIJZC0BZzqbXpCB-cQcRr5I/s320/Cats+Sleeping.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note JJ's legs. Who sleeps like that?!?</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, Monday, so good to me,</span></div><div class="p1"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, Monday, it was all I hoped it would be. </span></div><br />
<div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was the Mamas and the Papas folks, coming live from Udhagamandalam, India. I really don’t know that song at all. I know the Monday, Monday bit, but that’s it. I had to look the lyrics up. I am telling you this just in case you were wondering when and where I had acquired such vast lyric knowledge of the Mamas and Papas. It would be rather disappointing if you wanted me to be on your Trivial Pursuit team because you once remembered me quoting the Mamas and the Papas. Just keepin’ it real folks. I am done calling you folks from now on. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, we borrowed a camera. A cute little green camera. It’s been fun to have one back in our lives after a monthlong escapade without one (I did not forget a space...did you know “monthlong” is one word?). It felt a bit wrong not to have one in our last days of living in India. It also felt wrong to have such disastrous hair. So, the other night, after a long, long day of nonsense, Jayson cut my hair. In the bathroom. I am sure my mom is a bit horrified, but my hair was even more horrifying. My vanity got the best of me, because I was thinking that all the pictures I would be taking in the last days of India, I would not look at my darling friends’ faces and remembering them with fondness, but I would be looking at my hair. I know, I know, I am dealing with loads of emotions, mine and my families, packing, sorting, thinking about our current beginning of unemployment, but I also thinking of my hair. And you and I are just going to have to deal with it. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p2"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKbPctE923Y2-juX7JUg70fcmFaqW4N9H3XlR_i6HJXXshyxNcV_EfOj9p5qHNBV4-xoA4lF5sL0MhIcPx2iwAw0TQvyASG4b87fOyAO2Y50D18GpoM1xlanKCgGHi8zHAt8nO550VAk/s1600/Tarrah+Haircut.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKbPctE923Y2-juX7JUg70fcmFaqW4N9H3XlR_i6HJXXshyxNcV_EfOj9p5qHNBV4-xoA4lF5sL0MhIcPx2iwAw0TQvyASG4b87fOyAO2Y50D18GpoM1xlanKCgGHi8zHAt8nO550VAk/s320/Tarrah+Haircut.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="p1" style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we moved to India, my kids were at an age that we kind of just packed up, shoved them in a plane and left the country. I mean it wasn’t that drastic, we talked about it, they helped pick out toys they wanted to bring, etc... But this time around I feel like I am having to be way more intentional, feeling the reality of Jayson’s and my decision to leave effecting them greatly. I know that whole bit about “kids are resilient” and that if their family remains strong, that is so incredibly helpful for their process of transition. Yes, yes, I agree. But they still have great big emotions. Sad emotions and happy emotions. And we still have to walk that road with them and not tell them to just go and play with Legos. James and Ani have both asked why they can feel both happy and sad feelings at the same time. I didn’t know what to tell them really, other than you just have live feeling both sometimes and know that it’s okay. (Btw, Ani is brilliant at both crying and laughing at the same time.) Jovie, out of all of us, is the most bi-cultural (I am pretty sure that is not a word, but just go with it) and in some ways I grieve the most for her in leaving. Also not sure what to do with that. Wondering if somehow her comfortability with India will serve others and her well in the future. And Sydney, well, she told her teacher the other day that when she finds her prince and they get married, she will come back and wave to her in India. Enough said from Sydney, really.</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfVDBts4IQJddK0mJaMAVO8OWV4Z_ykFC9En9UTaUUKJrnL0g0JFQ9kQ9Ly_kzLDngT_MLV8hkRh3PaAIEWe43CKdKj-SK5hR1zhA7ehTjGOxBolYtptwjuwjoXlHJB1NF5B7ZquhIIig/s1600/Princess+Sydney+and+Bear.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfVDBts4IQJddK0mJaMAVO8OWV4Z_ykFC9En9UTaUUKJrnL0g0JFQ9kQ9Ly_kzLDngT_MLV8hkRh3PaAIEWe43CKdKj-SK5hR1zhA7ehTjGOxBolYtptwjuwjoXlHJB1NF5B7ZquhIIig/s320/Princess+Sydney+and+Bear.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We’ve had a bit of car oopsie lately. Not really oopsie. More like headache. Not a nightmare, but definitely draining. So, after many attempts of trying to hand off our car, Jayson finalized the deal on Thursday. Whew. The plan was to borrow the buyer’s car until we leave. Well, the car was, how do I put this nicely...it needed some work. I kind of felt like I was driving on ice and snow...in India. I know nothing about cars, but I want to say that the axel was probably twisted and turned beyond all recognition. The first day we had it I got two flat tires on two different tires. Every time we turned, I kind of felt like the car was just going to give up and die. Lame. A bit stressful, a bit dangerous. After two days, I told Jayson that we needed something different. We borrowed a friend’s vehicle for the night, and then this morning a hired vehicle came to pick us up for school. Having a hired car and driver sounds a bit posh, but posh is probably not how I felt this morning. I asked the kids when we were walking up to school how they thought it was going to be having the car for the week. Ani said, “Well, I guess I’ll just have to get used to plugging my nose and covering my ears...” Making memories I guess...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5vkyyl8fiVx7vVa2OiRcCRPKIMUeIJ0mup2-f8e7kz8DZ_BwJb2oUICyMcXrfHw0uua0fcs_FWVedTwCrIw8NT1si0T8fz5h8ylK0eOiMjxGJVmQA9uRPWXHDy5Ulis69-o1VvyGXVM/s320/Borrowed+Car+Flat+Tire.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second flat tire on the first oopsie car.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnPD8_IjA6-6wlry_FnUG7vmNKWqenYPYwe4FaQ_aZj023us43zkvGNngN_ZGBs8JffcSDrxt1qbv_1ryh80Qehx0FbBefFCBZ7ekIrjzir89tK5VR1z1G1egJResGpXueT-calWAKjA/s320/Crazy+VW+Bug+with+Tubes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If current vehicle proves not to work, this is what we'll aim for.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We’ll blog again on Sunday night, two days before we leave Ooty... Until then. Happy Monday.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRmc7m4nouDQkPLDdqeP_iB6AEbBOXsMUQpSFnmnrpxSjZHLWXTqKorzejvpBHxGNsPhkEgQ4NhGv3vpM_qhww9EDLVqtwex8KlvTO9pjRpv4LBhZxt1iji6PElMfQEdIKxxlhNpGJb4/s320/Palm+Family+2011.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></div><div><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-69284293236669124782011-04-24T10:28:00.006-05:002011-04-24T10:48:52.819-05:00A Moment of Silence Please<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photos taken last week during the kid's school break by a dad of their friends at school. He had a camera the size of the car/van/can. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHD1GDHmGo2D6e28e9OT0-Aj0RBVOB5jePmorkc6m7Iz-NEMjmwC8SpPuNCWCjdsCCfHr-hkxlpq8I7ExyBa6kRgEfLQkfkuv_NZ2AN16mQRqVwOvubaZrTNFBqKxL2KpNnotzETZUqs/s1600/Jungle+Retreat+Ani.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHD1GDHmGo2D6e28e9OT0-Aj0RBVOB5jePmorkc6m7Iz-NEMjmwC8SpPuNCWCjdsCCfHr-hkxlpq8I7ExyBa6kRgEfLQkfkuv_NZ2AN16mQRqVwOvubaZrTNFBqKxL2KpNnotzETZUqs/s320/Jungle+Retreat+Ani.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4xbpen9np7Kuq4olmc9p-yZLykI7DMoKMRbXfxn_OCg_-3x7N1jD2FAZwqQFZYX9NDKM6lO1LMdc9e9qWj8eqs8sEbQWXNtMFa5NcDsAWituaCv09Wo20cgOMCxmbz3fAG4sLZHNjek/s1600/Jungle+Retreat+Jovie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4xbpen9np7Kuq4olmc9p-yZLykI7DMoKMRbXfxn_OCg_-3x7N1jD2FAZwqQFZYX9NDKM6lO1LMdc9e9qWj8eqs8sEbQWXNtMFa5NcDsAWituaCv09Wo20cgOMCxmbz3fAG4sLZHNjek/s320/Jungle+Retreat+Jovie.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</style> </div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">Happy Easter to all. We had hot crossed buns after church today. I was a bit surprised. I haven’t had hot crossed buns on Easter for about 15 years, and then, all the sudden, bam!, hot crossed buns in India. Nobody prepared me. No email. No phone call. Nothing. Did any of you have hot crossed buns today?</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">On Tuesday morning, it was like Mutual of Ohama’s Wild Kingdom around here. Probably a smaller version than the African Plains. But you know, birds are constantly flying into our house. The fly in, they fly out. Done. But, Tuesday morning, one swooped in and our cat, Snowy, was on the prowl and caught it in mid-air. Ani was home with pink eye and saw it all happen and screamed. Snowy was running around the house with a flapping bird in his mouth. I am so not-brave you guys when it comes to animals. It’s really quite humbling. So, I told Ani to go open the door to the courtyard to shoo out the cat, because I didn’t want Snowy ripping the bird apart under someone’s bed. Gross. So, Snowy ran outside and proceeded to chase the limping/dying bird around the courtyard for about 10 minutes. My dear, animal loving child, Ani, was bawling, telling me to call Ilona, our vet friend. I can only imagine what Ilona thought about the phone call, but I was a bit desperate to console Ani. Ilona said that I needed to end the birds suffering and break its neck. Pardon me? Come again? No, no, no, there was no way in all of the world that I was going to do that. At least, not yet. So, I told Ani, let’s give it just another minute, and (deep breath) whew, the bird did die. But I was already trying to play out the scene in my head of whacking it with my frying pan - and I did not like that scene at all. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">My audible pleasures are this currently: fireworks, bus horns, meowing cats and really loud music from the neighboring guesthouse. Let me give you their playlist, it has been played often as of late.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">“Every Rose Has Its Thorn” - Guns and Roses</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">“You’re Beautiful” - James Blunt</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">A few Hindi tunes</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">“Country Road” - John Denver</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1">We have some serious “bus action” going on around our house. Being that we live close to the lake, a tourist hot spot, it’s a bit of an obstacle course getting to our house. As we were stuck for 30 minutes in a bus jam yesterday, James said, “Mommy, these roads are not made for these large buses.” Right on James. I grabbed some photos from Google images to at least some sort of visual... </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9eOsl_vgZslCy-jOIg-Ww9TvtpduuZgtqhTDd0eoA7Wnhsi3XVZlOHLJh_LxDoqomkGgzMbiy9odugql31XB2eko2R6IKhuZxCbaGMwyNicZ2gDGgJB7PVg4Mi2OILUgH9o9RAGFDWo/s1600/India+Traffic+Jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9eOsl_vgZslCy-jOIg-Ww9TvtpduuZgtqhTDd0eoA7Wnhsi3XVZlOHLJh_LxDoqomkGgzMbiy9odugql31XB2eko2R6IKhuZxCbaGMwyNicZ2gDGgJB7PVg4Mi2OILUgH9o9RAGFDWo/s320/India+Traffic+Jam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<span class="s1">A moment of silence please ------------------------ tomorrow, we are selling the car/van/can. I have made my fair share of jokes about our little vehicle, but it has served us well. We thought selling our car/van/can was going to be quite the task, but it was a hot item around here. The buyer wanted our vehicle so badly, that he was willing to give us his vehicle to use until we go. So long car/van/can...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjs75aseXsR_Ryv9pxB1Wop02DDoFyA-KCFwApsIz5my6H_ACyo4cn2IyaiXobnd2okUAtRSwXZlhWyGyzKiUflaY9V8i2nc9g5PsGeiHhyphenhyphenA6GT2pIKzFAbX9KceZ_Lhoiwy-tt8UmSM/s1600/Car+Van+Can+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjs75aseXsR_Ryv9pxB1Wop02DDoFyA-KCFwApsIz5my6H_ACyo4cn2IyaiXobnd2okUAtRSwXZlhWyGyzKiUflaY9V8i2nc9g5PsGeiHhyphenhyphenA6GT2pIKzFAbX9KceZ_Lhoiwy-tt8UmSM/s320/Car+Van+Can+2009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="s1"><br />
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<span class="s1">Well folks, we are leaving India. Wild, crazy, beautiful India. I feel like I haven’t processed much with you all about my transition feelings. In all honesty, I don’t know how I feel. Last night we had an early Easter dinner with the Parks and Ketchums. It occurred to me in the last few days that this will be the last holiday shared with them. For the most part, we have celebrated all the major holidays together. Although we once were used to our mothers, aunts and grandmothers making the pies, stuffing and mashed potatoes...now we are. Although we used to get ready for Thanksgiving at our extended family’s house, now the kids ask, “Are we going to the Parks’ for Thanksgiving?” The Parks are staying in India, the Ketchums are moving to Cambodia and we are going back to the States. (Tears stinging eyes, lump in throat.) We probably won’t be sharing a holiday together in the near future. But in the very same breathe, I am wild to see and live beside our family, friends and church and I am ready to not have my tummy ache 80% of the time. So, it’s all these mixed up emotions. Which is fine. It’s really the nature of transition. Jayson and I have moved six times in the the last nine years (the next one included). (I am not including that fact the first four years of our married life we moved to a tent for a few months each summer.) All moves different. Some enormous, some smaller. I think because my parents have basically been in the same house since I was little, I don’t feel like a “mover”, but as an adult, I think I have been. And I don’t know if the moving season is coming to a close, but for now, it’s moving time.</span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-33671091052899735092011-04-17T11:28:00.000-05:002011-04-17T11:28:00.251-05:00James Herriot in 3D<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39yKSVBejVhOIBr_WOFGtA26s-gOPZLcYKnaGOj_kTfFChpQTNS_7ODnMdNbbSKuSCPhFjnH12-MmCa8qYvyYyxdRAinwATfXR1dZhCAW36JV8JoQ8AM0VS-zzkM2BeAV2XrwRvPBfGI/s1600/Hebron+Sports+Day+-+Ani+%2528Large%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39yKSVBejVhOIBr_WOFGtA26s-gOPZLcYKnaGOj_kTfFChpQTNS_7ODnMdNbbSKuSCPhFjnH12-MmCa8qYvyYyxdRAinwATfXR1dZhCAW36JV8JoQ8AM0VS-zzkM2BeAV2XrwRvPBfGI/s320/Hebron+Sports+Day+-+Ani+%2528Large%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="p1"><span class="s1">Good evening. It’s Sunday, April 17, at 8:15 p.m. What to write about tonight.... Hmm, let’s start with the elections. On Wednesday, it was Ooty’s turn to vote. National Elections (State Assembly and Presidential) happen every five years, so it was interesting to sit back and watch a bit. We would show you pictures, but you already know the camera sob story, so I will be sure to be extra descriptive as I paint you the picture. There is so much about politics here that I don’t understand, so I won’t talk about that, because, well, I am simply overwhelmingly ill-informed. But elections here happen over a three week period. Every part of the country has a different time to vote. And the votes will be counted on May 13. Now, the day of elections, we were driving down one side of the mountain and there were loads of people bare-footed walking in from villages to vote. I felt so glad to be a quiet observer of such an important day.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI6kZ1yR4WjbsJpOKW8NwiAodMAneopxm3lB6s7bIXZwzt805I2ky4Ccm1LPQEvD5B8BJ3J3iTOd8ya9rKgcG5RmDb8E026MoMq3YEy-kWi8aPQl92kr44ouSBHd_yztFsofEQjc0V6OY/s1600/chief+minister+candidates+of+Tamil+Nadu.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53XgtmTPsD7OBADzf9cJ-25yImYgy1Mm7_GS3xd9B6Juqng7lPb_dQYPNiZ3x_t5aOJ6s8CsbcG8qbgLUNKfwQC_NtO7Ymc-GSRWpurt6tOvDWHUTveQA3qcds07KcKQxxjdZRD9jP0o/s1600/Tamil+Nadu+Voting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53XgtmTPsD7OBADzf9cJ-25yImYgy1Mm7_GS3xd9B6Juqng7lPb_dQYPNiZ3x_t5aOJ6s8CsbcG8qbgLUNKfwQC_NtO7Ymc-GSRWpurt6tOvDWHUTveQA3qcds07KcKQxxjdZRD9jP0o/s320/Tamil+Nadu+Voting.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Election Day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI6kZ1yR4WjbsJpOKW8NwiAodMAneopxm3lB6s7bIXZwzt805I2ky4Ccm1LPQEvD5B8BJ3J3iTOd8ya9rKgcG5RmDb8E026MoMq3YEy-kWi8aPQl92kr44ouSBHd_yztFsofEQjc0V6OY/s1600/chief+minister+candidates+of+Tamil+Nadu.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The two Chief Minister candidates in Tamil Nadu</td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1">We went down to IPAN Animal Shelter on Wednesday. Our friends Alona and Nigel, who run the animal shelter, have a few vets on sight and also train other vets in India. Anyway, their place is beautiful, crazy and I always see new things. On this particular day, we saw a baby monkey who was rescued after his mom was hit by a car. Now, you all know that I am not partial to monkeys. But this monkey was oh so cute. The best is when he popped his toe in his mouth to suck on, like a child would his thumb... My other favorite moment was when we were watching Ani getting ready to ride a one-eyed pony and we looked over and saw one of the vets with her arm fully up a horse’s rear. All of our eyes dropped out of their sockets and we had to pick them back up to continue checking out the sight. It’s not like I was disgusted or even alarmed, I just don’t often think that when I turn my head 45 degrees to the right, just three feet away from me, and two feet away from my kids who are painting merrily away, that I am going to see a person’s whole arm stuck up a horse’s whole rear. Now, I actually have a great love for animal stories. I have read James Herriot’s “All Creatures Great and Small” about a half dozen times, but this was like James Herriot in 3D. A bit shocking you know. You can only imagine how the kids loved to talk about it the rest of the week.</span></div></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2EaE0JkCsyLU5lSwEbEMv4JfVQC3oWyG47NDknteNwhg_Cf8_gY4Pl0ZSfAwMQ4YquSyjNqM5kbm-5IHPbqlIGFK1XXqfFK2qXWwXXZ3C1veTM_4ypFIajD84KgOFpjELegKiTXT90o/s1600/monkeyh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2EaE0JkCsyLU5lSwEbEMv4JfVQC3oWyG47NDknteNwhg_Cf8_gY4Pl0ZSfAwMQ4YquSyjNqM5kbm-5IHPbqlIGFK1XXqfFK2qXWwXXZ3C1veTM_4ypFIajD84KgOFpjELegKiTXT90o/s320/monkeyh.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><br />
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<span class="s1">In Freedom Firm news, there are five cases right now where the judge has issued a warrant the arrest of the brothel keeper or trafficker. All five of them are absconding (in hiding) and the police are searching for them. Freedom Firm staff are encouraged because if found, all five of them will likely be convicted. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><br />
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<span class="s1">I have been full of India spirit as of late. I think that’s all quite normal when leaving a place. Jayson and I have been eating Indian food at least once, if not twice a day. Last week I went into town and bought three kurtas (longerish shirts) to wear in my last days here. (Previously to now I kind of rebelled to the Indian wear, and just wore my “western” clothes and tied a shirt around my rear when going out.) I have also been reading a good share of Indian novels, which I haven’t really read much since the initial first few months here. And it’s fun to read in context of cultural norms that I know about or live in. I feel glad for this last burst of India energy. We’ll see what I bring back with me. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><br />
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<span class="s1">We have a few pictures to add, none taken by us of course. A few were taken by our friend Ruth of the kids sports day at school. The others are from Google images, just to add a bit more flavor. That’s all for this time folks... </span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-12177788840045822802011-04-03T11:00:00.000-05:002011-04-03T11:00:39.970-05:00Happy British Mother’s Day<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxSnFBM7o1OxxQk1XwqqjgRr-gYL8ukFOW4Lb4lxecVTG8SIGzI9m8wUbF7RnvJzJ529VaM1-INaKTIOgEY_7iO1tOCX0rzT5iHFZJbYm_fFYL6CiI0PGfz539REoV5UrD4nribAG3Xw/s1600/Sydney+Class+Assembly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxSnFBM7o1OxxQk1XwqqjgRr-gYL8ukFOW4Lb4lxecVTG8SIGzI9m8wUbF7RnvJzJ529VaM1-INaKTIOgEY_7iO1tOCX0rzT5iHFZJbYm_fFYL6CiI0PGfz539REoV5UrD4nribAG3Xw/s320/Sydney+Class+Assembly.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Syd's class assembly, about plants.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFoyqVbYB9s2uU9xBgH-2zVCqIlLqzNimuhFkPdFVxcYlEEJlbyVvGyVFv1G8dSQlzI5mEGAVaZm7kGOZiwULI9er3ZJQ0DdT4b7EoCO5m8fwh7VzO8ZbGjQlbsDi35Q5B5LohSfoP98/s1600/Monkey+10+Feet+Away.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFoyqVbYB9s2uU9xBgH-2zVCqIlLqzNimuhFkPdFVxcYlEEJlbyVvGyVFv1G8dSQlzI5mEGAVaZm7kGOZiwULI9er3ZJQ0DdT4b7EoCO5m8fwh7VzO8ZbGjQlbsDi35Q5B5LohSfoP98/s320/Monkey+10+Feet+Away.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monkey sighting, outside our back door, 20 feet away</td></tr>
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</style> </div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three things. First, Happy British Mother’s Day. I did receive a painted pot from Sydney and a nice picture from James. I love that I will be able to celebrate twice. If you know any British women, make sure you wish them a Happy Mother’s Day. Second, let’s give it up for India winning the Cricket World Cup. The World Cup takes place every four years and as Jayson was watching the game via the internet last night, the moment they won we heard a massive amount of fireworks. Now, a lot of people do not understand cricket, myself being one, but Jayson is a bit hooked currently. When we get back to the States he is going to start the rally cry to start a U.S. team. Let’s see how that goes for him... Lastly, my third child, second girl, princess extraordinaire, called me a “Noodle Crack-Head” at dinner tonight. On British Mother’s Day, of all days. Sheesh. Give a girl a crown and she throws it back in your face. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well people, our camera broke. So we took out the back-up camera that we had given to Ani. That’s broken too. For the last week, if we need any pictures taken, we ask whomever around us to take a picture of said object/person and email it to us. Seems a bit high maintenance. We can’t solve the camera issue until we are back in the States though, so we may be a little lacking in the pics arena from here on out. Maybe I will have Jayson draw pictures instead. Like the good ol’ days. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am “trying” to help Jayson with the job search by spending a bit of time looking at about 20 designated websites every other day. And I must say I am getting so good at it. When he lands a job, I will take all the credit. Just kidding - kind of. My “helping” did start out a bit rocky though. Making comments like, “There is no one in the whole entire world that would match the criteria of this job description” or “This company is so elitist, why would anyone ever want to work for them?” or my personal, all time low, “Searching for jobs is such a waste of my time.” Honestly, I am learning a lot about looking for jobs. There is a culture out there in the whole looking for jobs world. And I am fascinated by culture so it has been really very interesting diving in. I also can see how someone could fall into the trap of having others define if they are “good” or “worthy” depending if they get an interview or not. It’s quite exposing really. We have been doing a lot of reading and networking, but if you have any tips or insights to share, send them our way... it’s a whole new world to us.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, this week we are heading into Parent’s Week at the kid’s school. We’ve got a sports day, a swimming gala, a junior school open house, and few other bits. And then starting at the end of the week we are on mid-term break for a week. All so fun. We hope you all have a great start to your week. Until later...</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-72341325884079632572011-03-23T00:19:00.001-05:002011-03-23T00:20:56.593-05:00Saran Kumar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2_WZsQDzkd3kek08Fqg3ysj-pFfg-7jZwCN1jUmcvR02lRumJVdJ66R0SiZIgSwScY3lnS-dZvn-CJP3mx5B8g2Rk3QjyzNJhE7fSo3nKB2Gz3qMseHFVYUB1pCc7ze7cObVSZwLeJ8/s1600/Jovie+Tongue.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2_WZsQDzkd3kek08Fqg3ysj-pFfg-7jZwCN1jUmcvR02lRumJVdJ66R0SiZIgSwScY3lnS-dZvn-CJP3mx5B8g2Rk3QjyzNJhE7fSo3nKB2Gz3qMseHFVYUB1pCc7ze7cObVSZwLeJ8/s320/Jovie+Tongue.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Near our house, there is a place called the “New Boat House”, named the “New Boat House” because it’s newer than the “Old Boat House”. I love that really. Well, parking there is nonexistent and I was on my way to get Sydney from school and there was a car that was taking a tremendous amount of time to parallel park. So, I got impatient and, well, big-headed and went to “roar” around him, in the car/van/can mind you, and had to go on the grass to do so, knowing full well that the grass was wet and quite muddy. Well, people, I got stuck. Right in front of the car that I was impatient with. Humbled is the first word that should come to your mind. Well, I couldn’t get out without a bit of assistance. It took eight men, four rocks, 10 minutes and at the end, them actually lifting the right side of the car/van/can out of the mud. To add to the story, since that time, whenever the car/van/can hits any sort of hole, the horn automatically beeps, reminding me to be drive with patience and humility. </span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week we were able to share in a really special time with a 14-year-old boy named Saran Kumar. His dad passed away in 1999, his mom ran away after that, and he has been living with his brothers and grandmother since. Someone in his family gave him a small plot of land. Probably 12 feet by 6 feet. And we helped build a house for him and his grandmother. The gentleman that introduced us says he is a hard worker, a good student, and soft-spoken. Saran’s grandmother is nearly blind and quite aged, but strong in spirit, you could tell. Jayson was especially taken with him and is so thankful to have been a part of Saran’s life for this brief time. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90VrajhVXul1ZsnA19nZVsoTX7MWpsN6ZYTOkpvWJh0ScAiGV4qFysYOilMQ_UQu_v0fV6_bbE_Gtxg6dAi50yv-tw5BPmc4VRx-6-P9bb4NJiFt32oYonC0wVE99Fwhu0l0w9AwoDp8/s1600/Saran+and+Jayson.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90VrajhVXul1ZsnA19nZVsoTX7MWpsN6ZYTOkpvWJh0ScAiGV4qFysYOilMQ_UQu_v0fV6_bbE_Gtxg6dAi50yv-tw5BPmc4VRx-6-P9bb4NJiFt32oYonC0wVE99Fwhu0l0w9AwoDp8/s320/Saran+and+Jayson.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindMbAlHtbK0OR6ByliNLnQf41n3GRrVDrX0GU2yH1qYdWWBgdFbtxfAXicLjKo1JU68_CkVTgqN9nndU_rzqNNUKB3i6oZZnxL1rF1rxyQ81x6HReAQSgA3y-aBfjcncOZJZtjUAM4Us/s1600/Saran+Group.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindMbAlHtbK0OR6ByliNLnQf41n3GRrVDrX0GU2yH1qYdWWBgdFbtxfAXicLjKo1JU68_CkVTgqN9nndU_rzqNNUKB3i6oZZnxL1rF1rxyQ81x6HReAQSgA3y-aBfjcncOZJZtjUAM4Us/s320/Saran+Group.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7f6lYe5yqm66GNIt1MHF9pz9FLPyXDWcxNpl1qkdt_iW8QbKTO9aHzvggJ7fUKDLUvIOX7kb3jN-prJEslLOLJR0frR6ByoXnRauO8OvWTPWDUFKRyZ90KhJ2BVJjqVX8ySmu3EjA1Q/s1600/Saran+Home.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7f6lYe5yqm66GNIt1MHF9pz9FLPyXDWcxNpl1qkdt_iW8QbKTO9aHzvggJ7fUKDLUvIOX7kb3jN-prJEslLOLJR0frR6ByoXnRauO8OvWTPWDUFKRyZ90KhJ2BVJjqVX8ySmu3EjA1Q/s320/Saran+Home.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></span></div><div><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, we have been selling some of our things, and I took a few pictures to make a wee flyer to go around. I am showing you some of the pictures to make you feel better about your own picture taking. A lot of the pictures were taken when the kids were sleeping and I didn’t want to turn on lights or make much noise, so I just snapped and fled. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxaUgpRlOBxB-zuqmyskDQVWFB3QqCGkflOwbWD1aRqkTI3pSofqReIJaxe93qvLMENloOGgqQTZfJhfrnpzlgzKWl629_QKhacniEwzBBLTW35POJN-hMuvhJDZi6JbkGd91ZdAmEC4U/s1600/Not+Selling+Dog+House.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxaUgpRlOBxB-zuqmyskDQVWFB3QqCGkflOwbWD1aRqkTI3pSofqReIJaxe93qvLMENloOGgqQTZfJhfrnpzlgzKWl629_QKhacniEwzBBLTW35POJN-hMuvhJDZi6JbkGd91ZdAmEC4U/s320/Not+Selling+Dog+House.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">After this photo was taken, we realized that we cannot sell this dog house. Maybe for firewood. </div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sOH4uIhKkGoS4mm3zJzPFmAK68VrHyXqM0bwyzQnmSE-RIrsivFIJHP0eck3OwhQfQHzT2W01f58PODulcANZMTL2RBFc80t-cGyAfQHEQu2H7LkdM5BYYUhbUsZGHpmCPP2cMjQbO4/s1600/Selling+Bookshelf.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sOH4uIhKkGoS4mm3zJzPFmAK68VrHyXqM0bwyzQnmSE-RIrsivFIJHP0eck3OwhQfQHzT2W01f58PODulcANZMTL2RBFc80t-cGyAfQHEQu2H7LkdM5BYYUhbUsZGHpmCPP2cMjQbO4/s320/Selling+Bookshelf.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Why try to sell the "potential", when you can sell the "reality"? </div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4PPzfhi66C6GVRiEBDCxkDxsqmQLK51F_cN0YBNrV4qEcXxzcEdDEy77gQm7jh4c6_Jg4_d8O6vaakGji7KtrBUcUEwQOrf_sGEQJGnXqGTlayMdDIVV2aJFunr7YPzIh0CL7ZJYe444/s1600/Selling+Heater.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4PPzfhi66C6GVRiEBDCxkDxsqmQLK51F_cN0YBNrV4qEcXxzcEdDEy77gQm7jh4c6_Jg4_d8O6vaakGji7KtrBUcUEwQOrf_sGEQJGnXqGTlayMdDIVV2aJFunr7YPzIh0CL7ZJYe444/s320/Selling+Heater.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Our heater has a strong resemblance to Wall-E.</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9CEssIZapftIw0VlclTAd3b5Zdzk_WNkT3xgJ5-ItGUVPijrqjHjh5vZbLXSrOR-EQ9pCWpLBFAh6S00YE3P_HQqyR7REyXwpVOpt-f5yXcv1KZ1ULJnjiFDTsxbFvdnfG5a7Y5pWnc/s1600/Selling+Mattress.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9CEssIZapftIw0VlclTAd3b5Zdzk_WNkT3xgJ5-ItGUVPijrqjHjh5vZbLXSrOR-EQ9pCWpLBFAh6S00YE3P_HQqyR7REyXwpVOpt-f5yXcv1KZ1ULJnjiFDTsxbFvdnfG5a7Y5pWnc/s320/Selling+Mattress.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I wasn't joking when I said the kids were sleeping when I snapped some photos, because James was dead asleep when I took this one. By the way, I'm highlighting the "mattress" in this photo.</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCa_YrDr2D_BQA4pjZnmiu7VbIMZdgTTpfApowL3IGVQP1KNQ4pBi7ZQBVHOOM78TKsoYEBHLx06s7bhO1v2JhCej-MWRkxwXzhh8mocB9-ePDUWqRvYXXnwBcpZUlADKTj-8Edo6Ar64/s1600/Selling+Radiator.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCa_YrDr2D_BQA4pjZnmiu7VbIMZdgTTpfApowL3IGVQP1KNQ4pBi7ZQBVHOOM78TKsoYEBHLx06s7bhO1v2JhCej-MWRkxwXzhh8mocB9-ePDUWqRvYXXnwBcpZUlADKTj-8Edo6Ar64/s320/Selling+Radiator.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Nothing about this photo is right - It's an awkward angle, the top edge of the radiator is off the photo, and there's underwear draped over it.</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLRlxLMyTpzvSOVE2M-k_w79tF3icTu0kG9kJiVnIks0i3Y7UfJ9Qi5r2ZOIhFhF2CBeKjpXUc7dH5Ir0S_HFoGVAgqGqoVEzyKS6naf-XmuOffE2S3-4_QYoja3pkIOchoK4XJJXJxU/s1600/Selling+Water.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLRlxLMyTpzvSOVE2M-k_w79tF3icTu0kG9kJiVnIks0i3Y7UfJ9Qi5r2ZOIhFhF2CBeKjpXUc7dH5Ir0S_HFoGVAgqGqoVEzyKS6naf-XmuOffE2S3-4_QYoja3pkIOchoK4XJJXJxU/s320/Selling+Water.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">No need to get the water container down from the storage shelf...just point and shoot. </div><div><br />
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</tbody></table></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The parenting class that I have been a part of with the two moms in the aftercare program has come to an end. I have been with them for nearly 1 1/2 years and can hardly believe that I said goodbye. I knew we were going to eventually finish once I left, but they decided to leave with their kids to go work elsewhere nearer to family. I kind of got this panicky feeling when I knew they were leaving. They are safer with Freedom Firm, not completely of course, but safer than the rice factory that they were going to work at. The kids are safer with us keeping an eye on them. I don’t know how to end this paragraph, because I don’t know entirely how I feel on the subject. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All for now from Ooty, India.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-32223143273873657352011-03-14T12:19:00.001-05:002011-03-14T12:23:12.428-05:00Marshmallow Cricket<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqViJvFFl63Dqp4TI0EOtfB7NHEa8a59JKyNYrEtrORrjAZ5_a_zKdTAfgYGNjIQOXa7vGW7PF1IHzfFo8JZ_RUPqy9l7HlKDPkTZ54upWxLRyLYikycZp0MShvC3DGZgi23uh_be2fw/s320/Jovie+Eight+Market.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this shot of Jovie. Shopping at the "Eight Market" with Anik, Yuimi, and Jovie. Don't mind the blue tint, the market is entirely under blue tarps. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea96Cvo5OBV3y4KWCGuwUjL0d1pIVEo0uehqfYKUq1V0jYQPrmk5TN6FjqYbBqw7oy6RfaAHM-ys_19t3TQIGegoDnW-ynmUOErmFbjfYLl0iAhIZKjYk6AGErSu9VN2-yK6dEAaP4Io/s1600/Yuimi+Eight+Market.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea96Cvo5OBV3y4KWCGuwUjL0d1pIVEo0uehqfYKUq1V0jYQPrmk5TN6FjqYbBqw7oy6RfaAHM-ys_19t3TQIGegoDnW-ynmUOErmFbjfYLl0iAhIZKjYk6AGErSu9VN2-yK6dEAaP4Io/s320/Yuimi+Eight+Market.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yuimi and one of the many piles of clothes at the Eight Market.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am feeling all a bit overwhelmed as I sit down to write this blog. It has been three weeks since I wrote last. Three weeks. I am such a slacker. I also have an incredible sweet tooth currently. Today, I have consumed at least 4.2 pounds of sugar. I am also sitting in front of a fire and am squinting my eye that faces the fire because I fear that my retina will be sizzled and the right side of my body is 20 degrees hotter than the left. In short, I am a slacker, sugar-aholic, and I am about to combust because my internal temperature is rising to about 212 degrees Fahrenheit. We are off to a great start people. </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where did I last leave you...? Oh, that’s right, I had just told you about Jayson’s resignation. No small piece of news there. I have struggled to know how much to write about our story of going home. Mostly because I don’t want that part of us to distract you and me from staying present in our current home. Home being India. Home being working hard for girls that need support and advocacy. Home being where the kids go to an amazing international school. Home being where we feel content “being” until we step on the plane. Home being a place where we feel sad at the thought of leaving our friends, our vocational passion, and the place that has helped form the family of six that we are and that we like. So, I will write about our feelings about our transition, because it is a very real part of us; a part of our journey. And we just would like it if you continue to walk this road with us. It’s taken twists and turns that we could have never imagined. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two weeks ago we had our Freedom Firm retreat. It’s an event that Jayson plans and thoroughly enjoys. It is so fun watching people who take their job very seriously and work really hard doing it, sharing meals, playing, listening, and relaxing together. I think my favorite part was watching the investigators/operatives (the guys that go into the brothels for the rescues) playing “Marshmallow Cricket”. Another highlight of the retreat was having Gretchen and Pat right next door to our family. Gretchen is the U.S. Director and Pat is her mom. Pat was at the retreat last year with her husband Denny, who was the speaker. Their family, on the whole, has been significant to Freedom Firm over the years. When I said right next door...there was half a wall dividing us. And when Jayson was out with one of the staff and I had a frog/spider emergency in the bathroom with the kids, all I had to do was shout. When I was trying to calmly tuck the kids into bed on Friday night, we went to go brush teeth and there were three frogs staring at us. Now, in the great, wide open my kids go wild for frogs. But in the bathroom at night, the kids and I were just not really all that excited about our bathroom companions. And I didn’t have any spirit in me to catch them, so Gretchen and Pat came over to save the day and in the process, Jayson heard all of our shouting from across the way and came to see what the ruckus was about. Gretchen did the initial frog find and then Pat went in to finish the job with Jayson, and in the meantime also found a jungle spider as big as my face. Awesome. Needless to say, that night I slept with a scarf wrapped around my face and head, a little wary of any more friends wanting to join our family of six.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkN5324ctOObCY08FMpoLRxY537OhxLyh8T-dfm7rpRnLSCurkE7CLv6tKb8E9YadG3YHIAag94O-TmdPuu6OzDmHmx6p3OWcF1eKZYnleXm3pODJ68BTeLzN9EvjirDjLQcMn3t8aE2M/s320/Freedom+Firm+retreat+1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah, Achi, Sunayana, Gretchen, and Pat at the retreat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh976q7CvfulrV1R2XS7U-hIL-uAY54UL_aQmhdwgt9RU8AdIishlr_GEXRAEBfRfQjs7ZODgI9lWCUSgASyiRF4cKe_JUmJo-XcUsomit7QilRmSkN8wa9T-XAFoB5njBRuVFVVE9aBJ8/s1600/Freedom+Firm+retreat+all+staff+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh976q7CvfulrV1R2XS7U-hIL-uAY54UL_aQmhdwgt9RU8AdIishlr_GEXRAEBfRfQjs7ZODgI9lWCUSgASyiRF4cKe_JUmJo-XcUsomit7QilRmSkN8wa9T-XAFoB5njBRuVFVVE9aBJ8/s320/Freedom+Firm+retreat+all+staff+photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Freedom Firm staff with families. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11nfxGP2gR5sNAsekyUKhorPuYltRoWij0KZoeev6o41yvaFgi1bcdvvg6Ah6q1AZqAk1Ff0t8XeqbO_tOPQ_Cg6iexVEbOK2NikG4orPD_dNard8xzi-Ko2XWvE7wNFETbdBSJ_FRPE/s1600/Freedom+Firm+retreat+jungle+spider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11nfxGP2gR5sNAsekyUKhorPuYltRoWij0KZoeev6o41yvaFgi1bcdvvg6Ah6q1AZqAk1Ff0t8XeqbO_tOPQ_Cg6iexVEbOK2NikG4orPD_dNard8xzi-Ko2XWvE7wNFETbdBSJ_FRPE/s320/Freedom+Firm+retreat+jungle+spider.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jayson and the jungle spider. I get the heeby-jeebies just looking at this picture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibysrgMZcamgrF0rVHHFoqyVie545vV3JsjRZapK_PURmH2fi1sYG5zWnup_fs2rGNwE94n10Pnn_1dj6sREojdrhQoBegVQ-2AWNO5rGziAAHX8QH0znIdIJc7UOKuE8bA5byjsq58cc/s1600/Freedom+Firm+retreat+team+games.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibysrgMZcamgrF0rVHHFoqyVie545vV3JsjRZapK_PURmH2fi1sYG5zWnup_fs2rGNwE94n10Pnn_1dj6sREojdrhQoBegVQ-2AWNO5rGziAAHX8QH0znIdIJc7UOKuE8bA5byjsq58cc/s320/Freedom+Firm+retreat+team+games.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The staff playing games at the retreat. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since the retreat, I think I have found my feet again. I was a bit beat after our resignation and retreat. I/we felt weary. Which is to be expected. I anticipate those feelings to circle more than a few times. We have slept a lot, watched movies, and tried to keep our schedule light. Another way that we have tried to rejuvenate a bit is to do some Explooting... Of course, it’s really what the doctor does order. Our friend Adam, from the States, has been up in Calcutta for a bit of time (working with </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.wordmadeflesh.org/">Word Made Flesh</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">) and came down to visit us last weekend. So, we thought we would show in a good ol’ fashioned time in Ooty. We took him to a dam. Of course. Why not? And then a lake which we took a boat ride around, and then to some waterfalls. As I write that, it does sound a bit pathetic really. At the time though, I was pretty pumped. And Adam is very gracious. A good combination. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ushqGAjgIh6NxmZvksvXd5G9a5frnYwhX5G6mj2pH2znt7JepwW25mRfld66xbijSfa7TvsCFwJd-_-Ul6mAeYjgbzu2OBXuPf0TFv0biws3CnLZdcMowsPfwF7ZlWS_u03n22o3Xrs/s320/Adam+Explooting.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam and the Palm Six on the lake. And yes, Sydney does feel compelled to strike a pose in every photo she's in. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVT6uW2zI-JLmEIxoRt89LTwxkBMOq0G9qD4CniMj6b60mNi1rftBr45wALLhwgjtJJjJBzfIZMkcPcp-NhOLHNRTkBxhctEoPZiTB4L6Ng8fTE55jxd6kO9-TBT5X0jHmB7gXndvBoc/s1600/Ani+Susai+by+waterfalls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVT6uW2zI-JLmEIxoRt89LTwxkBMOq0G9qD4CniMj6b60mNi1rftBr45wALLhwgjtJJjJBzfIZMkcPcp-NhOLHNRTkBxhctEoPZiTB4L6Ng8fTE55jxd6kO9-TBT5X0jHmB7gXndvBoc/s320/Ani+Susai+by+waterfalls.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ani and Susai by the beautiful waterfall in Pikara.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am encountering the time in the blog that I am aware that if I write any more, it will seem a bit over the top. So I will leave you and hope that you are off to a great start to your week. Until next time...</span>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-2370594427437000682011-02-21T10:22:00.000-06:002011-02-21T10:22:19.216-06:00Mr. Twiddle<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYil2ABbldS94w29kN4B7G7BDjfN9v1PbsG9wSYw5RfHwnJhWkzmvTMUO3aQEqdtyAi5wA9X_rjsYzXqSP8lnhExdGJGngK9HreNrfgq8SJ2DMoWSGGFiqN09NoXhHimEnl1FuHEhBz94/s1600/Sydney+Making+Donuts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYil2ABbldS94w29kN4B7G7BDjfN9v1PbsG9wSYw5RfHwnJhWkzmvTMUO3aQEqdtyAi5wA9X_rjsYzXqSP8lnhExdGJGngK9HreNrfgq8SJ2DMoWSGGFiqN09NoXhHimEnl1FuHEhBz94/s320/Sydney+Making+Donuts.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helping to get ready for her brother's birthday</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="Body">My throat hurts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From bed time stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quite like reading out loud to my kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really get into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tonight it was a story about this gentleman named Mr. Twiddle (of course his name is Mr. Twiddle, brilliant name...) and he’s fantastic really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was howling during the story, howling I say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t repeat the premise of the story, that wouldn’t go well, you wouldn’t think it was funny, blah, blah, blah... just remember the name Mr. Twiddle and the name alone should make your throat hurt.</div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body">Since our last blog we have a newly crowned eight year old daughter and six year old son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ani’s birthday was on the 12th and James’ on the 14th.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a fantastic weekend celebrating and trying to squish a little Valentine’s Day in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We do V-day on the 13th... well, I say that like we’ve been doing that for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did V-day on the 13th this year, and I kind of liked it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may be our new thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you want to try it, go ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We won’t mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><b>Ani's Birthday</b></o:p></div><div class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnPV1oRtRHC0VerXUmb66CBTjOvmCKpWDkmY-PJqU1nKrM5CS7fk-hAt3pxaBzGb3DWMfzR22MwJGdf60FTvfaYhFGe7VJb4q7dUKCSk0wwekJ1o-9O1bKGquxQhicntNVyHum571ioU/s1600/Ani+Birthday.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnPV1oRtRHC0VerXUmb66CBTjOvmCKpWDkmY-PJqU1nKrM5CS7fk-hAt3pxaBzGb3DWMfzR22MwJGdf60FTvfaYhFGe7VJb4q7dUKCSk0wwekJ1o-9O1bKGquxQhicntNVyHum571ioU/s320/Ani+Birthday.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZ6xhXcPkvefFJa5IGiVyLdoy1N_JAE8rYuXqIj4pPqnxZM3BujPKx_Ww7U8rbZL-lNDL38wztwBksr-DAgxdVnpwkUbixDyL2Qq9yz8wSTcj1CyZrF2VnXGyNZTR10uFInlVWtYRyW8/s1600/Ani+Birthday+Pass+the+Parcel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZ6xhXcPkvefFJa5IGiVyLdoy1N_JAE8rYuXqIj4pPqnxZM3BujPKx_Ww7U8rbZL-lNDL38wztwBksr-DAgxdVnpwkUbixDyL2Qq9yz8wSTcj1CyZrF2VnXGyNZTR10uFInlVWtYRyW8/s320/Ani+Birthday+Pass+the+Parcel.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>James' Birthday</b></div><b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast in bed</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPlu5OIyAkyQPmZn6O0Swq_Gw6xTgfKPf0W3HxmmB2AdtYnjwH9_q2K1GjFM6p2ROS5rDsEVvz589v6sHd9i4vRIj9USOJOg1tuwwqWc01d2aNwhyphenhyphenC-4ZcUOykIubPGriK1emKzfUmZg/s1600/James+Birthday+Cake.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPlu5OIyAkyQPmZn6O0Swq_Gw6xTgfKPf0W3HxmmB2AdtYnjwH9_q2K1GjFM6p2ROS5rDsEVvz589v6sHd9i4vRIj9USOJOg1tuwwqWc01d2aNwhyphenhyphenC-4ZcUOykIubPGriK1emKzfUmZg/s320/James+Birthday+Cake.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IcsGsCoBvKukZm61IGIEnDRJPcsrCXP0pwFrrsrxMdKprsiucMUOz1UD7SJyAMqf_X0s77UOrxDkRKaA9TDX5FKdkdesP5EMbufvSjGF-5wEk561MP1w8HRaisfqzZhSLoFBJtVNmbY/s1600/James+Birthday+at+School.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IcsGsCoBvKukZm61IGIEnDRJPcsrCXP0pwFrrsrxMdKprsiucMUOz1UD7SJyAMqf_X0s77UOrxDkRKaA9TDX5FKdkdesP5EMbufvSjGF-5wEk561MP1w8HRaisfqzZhSLoFBJtVNmbY/s320/James+Birthday+at+School.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Another happening this week was that Jayson resigned from Freedom Firm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Say what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of you may already know this and have started processing this with us, but for those of you that haven’t, we will tread the waters with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do want to keep the “why” quite short and talk more about “how” this week has been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The why is that we just know that it is time for us to come home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This decision has not been taken lightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> lightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This decision has been very deep in our bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been surprising as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We thought at the onset that we would be here for 3-5 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet at 2 1/2 years we will be going back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The anticipation of this week was a bit shaky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shaky like “big, deep breathes, this feels really big” shaky, not, “oh geez louise, we are making a really bad decision” shaky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It brought back memories of us deciding to move here...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
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</div><div class="Body">Jayson started the week telling the staff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They, and we, will miss working with each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The staff are so incredibly strong and courageous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then told our kids on the 15th.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all had mixed emotions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surprised really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ani has been walking around the house saying, “I can’t believe we are really moving back the States.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ani understands the reality of this transition more than the other kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then started emailing people back in the States, and then a flood of emails came back to us, and we literally were saturated with kind and warm words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, we feel sent from you all to be working here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A delegate of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, when we decided that our time was done here, we feel the weight of the decision in all sorts of ways. I see the weight in mostly positive ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeps us accountable for our actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our decisions. Whew, I feel the need for a good joke after all this serious talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Twiddle anyone???</div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body">So, we are here until May.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are here. Fully here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Engaging here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Working hard here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Loving and enjoying life here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we continue to love the journey that we are on here...</div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body">P.S.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks to all that posted comments and sent us emails from my blog entry about the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are all so encouraging and I did feel like I put our whole family out there and you really did well with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you.</div><div class="Body"><br />
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</div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-10742039595604892602011-02-10T21:24:00.000-06:002011-02-10T21:24:19.463-06:00Sydney at Christmas<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think it is an overstatement to say that Sydney is simply hilarious. Her reactions to the Christmas presents she received this year were consistently over the top. So we put together a short video of "The Best of Sydney Christmas Present Reactions" for your enjoyment. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ygxjK6TDlXU" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe></span>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-28737239028912258372011-02-10T12:09:00.001-06:002011-02-10T12:10:23.480-06:00Through the Eyes of My Children<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdCBQWehMQcN0Kk2Br9dBRZd7oTiE6CGtKsosEKaZTafd7k0cvveCkdC5hphwoo8WFaf1OYp2CDI3ag9-6el4iEOnO-sQ5sors-O8QFQQBkmAk_axsbd12M4GFtpgKjdb6Bowiuuk5x3A/s320/Roja+Well.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Workers digging a well at the Roja aftercare home in Ooty. We're expanding the home to house 12 girls. It currently can handle four girls. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3znbaAstO0JOq_hPz7keSbYw1WNwruOGDscYkm-hdKJWUoLh4cUZLK1JbRNiOjTsR_GxeBSKDaY_9-0T85viiqR7GNsOm1z4J73wZdLd5NKim1A7iWWaREpQPKYv9LWIzM8121Xlw2JA/s320/Roja+Well+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">35 rings needed so far (totaling 45 feet down!). Still no water. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKmUJGoyxWtDa-B5jLkShbUw0HR0IrHkfICISZQX_p94F-AGq6ZcV56MDXZlwt91pZ52x5MsiPHAsmgLCnh6UTQy_XCJYezYifZgv0zFCsYUKtfM4m1hCGBdf2Ao7cRwG3jAqD6L9_FI/s1600/Roja+Building+Project.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKmUJGoyxWtDa-B5jLkShbUw0HR0IrHkfICISZQX_p94F-AGq6ZcV56MDXZlwt91pZ52x5MsiPHAsmgLCnh6UTQy_XCJYezYifZgv0zFCsYUKtfM4m1hCGBdf2Ao7cRwG3jAqD6L9_FI/s320/Roja+Building+Project.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An overhead shot. This is the space where a dormitory-style room will be built. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWRL0yDLexlLfj8kMkHSswuX9qzehLrpZtGw47_OjzMfaNdegzZSJ061q4W5suFyG5nNt9jqWYTsMX7pVhd6EVkTq6HRSfEUG3b5yQOLZaZCnnog4xVz2yRCbiDDj4P-XzMZ1w0ekW_E/s1600/Roja+Well+Rings.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWRL0yDLexlLfj8kMkHSswuX9qzehLrpZtGw47_OjzMfaNdegzZSJ061q4W5suFyG5nNt9jqWYTsMX7pVhd6EVkTq6HRSfEUG3b5yQOLZaZCnnog4xVz2yRCbiDDj4P-XzMZ1w0ekW_E/s320/Roja+Well+Rings.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am eating a dark mint chocolate that has just come out of the freezer. I am in love. I have this memory of either visiting someone, babysitting, going to a party, etcetera, I can’t really remember. But I was at someone’s house and they had Andes Mints in the freezer and I think every so often during the night I would go in a grab a few and by the end of the evening I had eaten the whole package. (Not the wrapper, but the chocolate, lest you be confused.) Mmmmm, that was a really nice night. I am sure you are feeling very satisfied with that story. More intelligent. Curiosity quenched. Heart filled. Done. Go home. Pack it up. With that story, you are finished for the day.</span><br />
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was thinking that it may be interesting to write about India and our life here through the eyes of my children I have been thinking about it for a few days, wanting to put more thought into it than just my stream of consciousness. I also need to say that because of the ages of my kids, their comments, ideas, assumptions deal very little in the abstract. What they see, hear, smell is well, what they see, hear, smell. With that comes very blunt and sometimes coarse feelings. I risk being a bit offensive by letting you in on their perceptions, but their story is as much a part of our story as Jayson’s or mine. We have given them the space to have really hard feelings, and not trying to quickly tell them more of the why behind a certain situation. But there have been times that I’ve felt scared or embarrassed about some of their words about India. I find myself wanting to rush and try to convince them that their feelings are wrong. But that’s not usually very fair of me. So, I hope you find it interesting to hear their musings.</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd83n3CSqkUM6jPcO2clsNcukqyntU3yLOB9DmSPw01kPG78RCn92gjZRnj-TzcumWuX6MkUqi6RI_Bv_0C05S4-z-adR_B6Hj7vpoTAUUv2VrdMkGnsJd-AVspIYNrB2AXOT-TxBtDzk/s1600/Jovie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd83n3CSqkUM6jPcO2clsNcukqyntU3yLOB9DmSPw01kPG78RCn92gjZRnj-TzcumWuX6MkUqi6RI_Bv_0C05S4-z-adR_B6Hj7vpoTAUUv2VrdMkGnsJd-AVspIYNrB2AXOT-TxBtDzk/s320/Jovie.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jovie. Age: 2 1/2. India is what she knows. She delights in all the random and numerous animals on the street. She does not shout at people when they pinch her cheek. She would prefer rice and dal over pasta. She drinks chai tea like it’s water. She eats with her fingers like the locals and can handle more spice than anyone else in the house. Adults included. She interacts with local people with ease and the guys at Modern Stores carry her around while I shop. She is so comfortable that she often wanders off, which was a bit nerve wracking for my mom when she was here. Because Jovie is so young, I wonder what she will remember about India and what from here she will carry with her. </span><br />
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</span></div></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sydney. Age: 4 1/2. When we moved here, Sydney was 2 1/2, so really, India is what she knows as well. But because she is a bit older, she is more influenced by Ani and James and their memories of the States. All that being said, Sydney being Sydney has a confidence about her here. She will go up to anybody and ask them anything. When we were on holiday, we went back to the hotel after dinner and she pranced into the lobby and said with her hand on her hip to the three employees there, “Hi boys, I am back.” That’s her. She handles the food fine and doesn’t think much of all the different sights and smells to be seen and smelled. It is what it is. She does miss her grandparents and Nana and Papa dearly. So there is a miss in her for our family, which at times does affect her outlook here. She is aware that there are huge gaps of time between seeing them. She has picked up more of the British lingo than any of the other kids. Uses words like “straightaway”, “proper”, “trousers”, and “knickers”. India is a colorful country that has poured its color into her.</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsEOPNVm-oJ2aNNaOHjjDyQLSRyqbJmTQUSMwJ36mP0445xQBBReIfgAhUJJ-NVAi2rAETlzgE-aFcbTxYwMzSuZkX3x5_LclxDUlfZL_8Rh1074iHqSHQQOw7qf_JWi2XtGP3a-74HQ/s1600/James.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsEOPNVm-oJ2aNNaOHjjDyQLSRyqbJmTQUSMwJ36mP0445xQBBReIfgAhUJJ-NVAi2rAETlzgE-aFcbTxYwMzSuZkX3x5_LclxDUlfZL_8Rh1074iHqSHQQOw7qf_JWi2XtGP3a-74HQ/s320/James.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James. Age: turns 6 in 4 days. James came here shortly before his fourth birthday. He is more grayscale compared to Sydney’s vibrant color. That being said, he has transitioned here a bit more stealth than the other kids. He moved here with a bit of concrete information about the States, but not enough to be solidified in things. Like knowing a bit about different sports, currency, clothes, etc. So, when he came here, he was inundated with new information. Of course he was, we all were. But because his foundation of what is “normal” in the States was not yet solid, he gets the components of life here mixed up with the States. Maybe more in the first year than now, but it still shows. Like soccer and football. To him they’re essentially the same thing, yet he knows somehow their different. Considering he’s never been in the States for a football season, he doesn’t know how it’s different. The same with cricket and baseball. There is a basket by the front door holding both a cricket and a baseball bat. To him, as he reaches for either bat, it doesn’t matter which he grabs, so long as he gets to hit something. </span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ani. Age: turns 8 in 2 days. I have saved Ani’s for last because she is the one that has been both the most delightful and the most painful to watch take in all that is different here. My Ani girl is full of questions. She has had a hard time not asking sweeping questions like, “Why are Indians so rude?” (because she loathes it when they touch her, tweek her cheeks, and take photos of her) or “Just because I have white skin, why does everyone think I am so special?”. She has asked Jayson and I, “Why in the States do we have a lot less than some people, and here why do we have more than most everyone else?” Or “Mommy, why do Muslim women want to cover themselves?” or “How come Hindu people worship something that looks so weird?” These types of questions come all the time. Some days, I don’t know how to answer them. Some days I do okay. Explaining poverty, skin color, and different religions to a child is hard. Living in the tension of poverty, skin color, and different religions can be a bit overwhelming. She is the most patriotic child I have ever met. She has a warped perception that all things good are in the States. I get really wound up when she goes there. But she does not like that she is so far away from her family and dear friends. She does not like the fact that she gets the runs quite frequently. She does not like the fact that she feels different here, that she stands out. So, I give her space to hold the States up a bit higher than she should. Even though she struggles here, she is the one I most foresee living in a cross-cultural setting when she is older. She’s really compassionate. And she feels sad that there are a lot of people that “go without” here. She feels like it’s really important that we are here doing the work that we are doing. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whew, I made it. This blog is really long. I don’t know how to make it shorter though. The length being what it is, I am sure I have left some major gaps, but it’s a good start. And with that, I say goodnight dear friends.</span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-78546873902642633812011-01-28T10:39:00.001-06:002011-01-28T10:41:58.442-06:00High School Musical<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbcwxFH0pOjBr7ElOamMKtfhWttKFa0szju6jC0jnMchm8HI71jVM_RUDOXVXWvdaLebeRmHM9BKunPq2yIadDn714CShwp-RCMqX1frjEyl3JaD78xshz1wGhyQImIBGpXorzONrmuo/s1600/Freedom+Firm+Awareness+CMS.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbcwxFH0pOjBr7ElOamMKtfhWttKFa0szju6jC0jnMchm8HI71jVM_RUDOXVXWvdaLebeRmHM9BKunPq2yIadDn714CShwp-RCMqX1frjEyl3JaD78xshz1wGhyQImIBGpXorzONrmuo/s320/Freedom+Firm+Awareness+CMS.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second Freedom Firm Awareness Program. Vijaya again did an amazing job sharing her story.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Vijaya in white in the middle of all the girls. We're so thankful the students were so moved by her story. </td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is 2:11 p.m. on Friday, January 28. I am not sure if I can write a blog in the daylight. I am thinking the moonlight usually helps the blog flow. I also think the evening tiredness helps - I am a bit more loose with my tongue and say things that I was curious about in the morning. So, you can all expect the highest degree of congeniality out of me. </div></div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Currently, my mom and the kids are outside working in the garden. I know I have told you this before, but my mom is this magic fairy cleaner/organizer/work horse. In just one week she has scrubbed and painted our patio railing, cleaned and organized my laundry room and refrigerator, organized closets, and done 1,042 loads of laundry. She is now trying to sort out all of our flowers. I look at flowers/shrubs and say, “Oh, that looks pretty,” or “Oh, that looks pretty awful.” And leave it at that. I kind of get overwhelmed in the conquering of flowers and such. But my mom is fearless. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma's little helpers</td></tr>
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</div></div><div class="p2">Oh, and what about her back you ask. Wasn’t she laid up for three days at the beginning of her stay with us? Yes friends, yes she was. When I last wrote to you all, I was hiding something from you... So, I think I wrote you on a Saturday night. At that point she was barely able to walk. Back up a few months, my mom wanted us to plan a beach holiday while she was here. So, we had planned that the Sunday after she got here, we would hop on a train and head to the beach. Jayson and I waffled back and forth about whether to cancel or not, but my mom was determined, determined she was. I was a bit nervous about the whole thing, wondering if we actually got my mom on the train, was she going to be able to get off, picturing my mom endlessly traveling back and forth from Trivandrum to Coimbatore day-in and day-out because she simply couldn’t get off was a despairing thought. So, I just didn’t tell you all that part, lest you all get nervous with me. So, I kept it to myself. And thankfully, she did great. And by the second day that we were at the beach, she was digging in the sand with the kids and doing back flips into the pool.</div><div class="p1"><br />
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</div></div><div class="p2"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bVtbMoCnpjrlOtEK5GaCyO5MK_1xjyULi_gnOkPisvYF1X7EV9jKHIk0gmIWVLeidUouZCQsTyEEhr8R-xVj49bohOhw_R_0DVftVGDv5-2nG1AHPG_ygqwlRCvQzCYgcKweGnxl6ww/s1600/Ani+Boogie+Boarding.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bVtbMoCnpjrlOtEK5GaCyO5MK_1xjyULi_gnOkPisvYF1X7EV9jKHIk0gmIWVLeidUouZCQsTyEEhr8R-xVj49bohOhw_R_0DVftVGDv5-2nG1AHPG_ygqwlRCvQzCYgcKweGnxl6ww/s320/Ani+Boogie+Boarding.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLp45PgjAZQgOCjJYNIEDR1Ii7oT6UzmWfWUe1vp-p3_aecDYGgDfFVenCQm6hXtrN3oZRt79GM9AusoliMAm09DFVXvcIfgWGu_OiIVtfVWwSFf4GaQWccVkRLbf500BGjEpj8EJZFeY/s1600/Kovalam+Beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLp45PgjAZQgOCjJYNIEDR1Ii7oT6UzmWfWUe1vp-p3_aecDYGgDfFVenCQm6hXtrN3oZRt79GM9AusoliMAm09DFVXvcIfgWGu_OiIVtfVWwSFf4GaQWccVkRLbf500BGjEpj8EJZFeY/s320/Kovalam+Beach.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLT6bKbvO1-WYeyqKLKzhZE0R_XIyO2O9jwAykqYxAgqlooWXiPT06EPsDZKAUIAhztdWzv6GAzEBaJgbmG3opiN1rf7FilDSLoC0aQGh6eUf4oRZGm1PGrl1R6M6rsFLVSLg0-bTWJH4/s1600/Jovie+Sleeping+2011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLT6bKbvO1-WYeyqKLKzhZE0R_XIyO2O9jwAykqYxAgqlooWXiPT06EPsDZKAUIAhztdWzv6GAzEBaJgbmG3opiN1rf7FilDSLoC0aQGh6eUf4oRZGm1PGrl1R6M6rsFLVSLg0-bTWJH4/s320/Jovie+Sleeping+2011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie sleeping 2011</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJfKTKAU0yrsYFtbOB-4sERWPcMUlFOAvfUShQ4m1nt_K55LMbE5N9PE8OiTh5lV1aCJVyfejopWlO2EiA3REJeETpS3ElS0YF-AmLWa3h7isVADue2dkMmbt_gSIKZruVQF89_WFXdE/s1600/Jovie+Sleeping+2010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJfKTKAU0yrsYFtbOB-4sERWPcMUlFOAvfUShQ4m1nt_K55LMbE5N9PE8OiTh5lV1aCJVyfejopWlO2EiA3REJeETpS3ElS0YF-AmLWa3h7isVADue2dkMmbt_gSIKZruVQF89_WFXdE/s320/Jovie+Sleeping+2010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie the consistent little girl, this is her sleeping on vacation with Grandma LAST year. </td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ30-lmDRBcap-9tIxhny4ZtaehmPWr9Yw71i04mo1tSXSEWfl_5uBHeHWjai5jEIQ9rP6B5gvYFi_kygXvcQLZnY2EgZsGbtv4D6X-cnh26_ADT5BGtxIcCnhfSKbpKdNPoc3H6Z_KCs/s1600/India+Train+Travel.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ30-lmDRBcap-9tIxhny4ZtaehmPWr9Yw71i04mo1tSXSEWfl_5uBHeHWjai5jEIQ9rP6B5gvYFi_kygXvcQLZnY2EgZsGbtv4D6X-cnh26_ADT5BGtxIcCnhfSKbpKdNPoc3H6Z_KCs/s320/India+Train+Travel.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div>My favorite bit of our whole five-day-long trip was heading up the mountain to Ooty in the last few hours of the trip. We were unsuccessfully trying to avoid getting travel sickness, so the driver pulled over. All the windows were down because for some reason more wind in the car is better for trying not to chuck. Then all of a sudden a monkey jumped onto the edge of the window. Ani was inches away from the monkey, with James right next to her, and then Jayson realized what was happening, he looked at the monkey, and just bellowed at it. I think he was trying to shout him out of the car. I know you are all tired of my monkey stories, but I almost wet myself over the whole ordeal. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I had Jayson draw a picture of the situation, especially the part about him shouting at the monkey. Enjoy.</div><div class="p2"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNmXdkrhRsQR8zAfp7lpmqIIdaKtzcEYI92qfsFxYEE056SQYpPSRkOpMnu_601zYXeidw_kjHX0wyxyoE125HrRT534TFIunGDkKZ9ETkr7nUSrYi4lHavVKDRTIQYUkwFX32XW1dFY/s1600/Jayson+Bellowing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNmXdkrhRsQR8zAfp7lpmqIIdaKtzcEYI92qfsFxYEE056SQYpPSRkOpMnu_601zYXeidw_kjHX0wyxyoE125HrRT534TFIunGDkKZ9ETkr7nUSrYi4lHavVKDRTIQYUkwFX32XW1dFY/s320/Jayson+Bellowing.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div></div><div class="p1">We just passed the two year mark of our time in India. Can you believe it? I still feel like such a newbie here. For me, I am not sure that feeling will ever pass. I still feel like a newbie at parenting, marriage, life, etc. I look at the teenagers on High School Musical and feel like they are way more mature than I am. I still feel new at cultural things, like what all the different clothing or different kinds of foods are called and all the Hindu/Muslim practices. I still feel new at being intimidated by monkeys and dogs when I go on a run or walk. I still feel new at the depth and scope of what it means for a country this size to support over 1.1 billion people. I still feel new when I try to get my head around how to help girls have a fuller and healthier life after they get out of the brothels. And last, but not least, I still feel new and in disbelief that when I search high and low in all the shops in Ooty and I cannot find a single Diet Coke anywhere.</div><div class="p1"><br />
</div><div class="p1">My mom heads back on Monday night. So sad. If you see her on February 3, wish her a happy 60th birthday. </div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-26920874131129497662011-01-15T09:24:00.005-06:002011-01-15T09:56:01.255-06:00Double Feature<style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(Written January 3) Last year we had a rather quiet Christmas. This year, I swung the pendulum a bit, having guests over on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, in total serving food for nearly 100 people. I went a bit nutty. Nutty in inviting, not nutty whilst having guests over. That would have been a good story though. On Christmas Eve, I thought it would be fun to have a casual soup and bread lunch. Inviting everyone I knew really. Thought maybe 30ish would be around, thinking loads would be traveling or back at home for Christmas. But as I started counting everyone that could come, the list totaled about 70ish people. Love it. I doubled everything and there wasn’t but three pieces of bread left when all was said and done.</div><div class="p1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="p1"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Christmas Eve</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDc6CTNrcoOhPsAHbVlNy9AoPmRF1Iw9qF1eNSS-fEfUsPhurhsrKgut1qqgXwRzzE1-kj1WZ_Incs9D_umJpmgf1BcLfhB0RCz48Lt2tVSr1O-M6D_ZyzNf5S1vX1TiYgB5NjzXRdsw/s1600/Christmas+Eve+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDc6CTNrcoOhPsAHbVlNy9AoPmRF1Iw9qF1eNSS-fEfUsPhurhsrKgut1qqgXwRzzE1-kj1WZ_Incs9D_umJpmgf1BcLfhB0RCz48Lt2tVSr1O-M6D_ZyzNf5S1vX1TiYgB5NjzXRdsw/s320/Christmas+Eve+2.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-46Hyv0GuIlNUFicSwd3YcLF4r0MI0HxXRVIZtglFgPHYfoPmGdw1-LkELejJXrIw1lJPpbyol1E849fKnObGjz8aMb_oLpxP9ndJzfCvPI3qQzwoESVgClrsx80wlnkwSkEbgcwTbM/s1600/Christmas+Eve+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-46Hyv0GuIlNUFicSwd3YcLF4r0MI0HxXRVIZtglFgPHYfoPmGdw1-LkELejJXrIw1lJPpbyol1E849fKnObGjz8aMb_oLpxP9ndJzfCvPI3qQzwoESVgClrsx80wlnkwSkEbgcwTbM/s320/Christmas+Eve+5.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Christmas Morning</span></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoaNjQXNVzBwX7xHPf3Xw7mdvH9ElezuWxSnfaaApa7jLXJuPS01OvdW4TeSXn4xEnwxZD7y0nqfFduxdeSqNzU3dKNOlIraLBRDLJbFJstYGpQTEltMk645gy-2cPN7wmrpNynharVk/s1600/Christmas+Morning+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoaNjQXNVzBwX7xHPf3Xw7mdvH9ElezuWxSnfaaApa7jLXJuPS01OvdW4TeSXn4xEnwxZD7y0nqfFduxdeSqNzU3dKNOlIraLBRDLJbFJstYGpQTEltMk645gy-2cPN7wmrpNynharVk/s320/Christmas+Morning+1.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHrPia9B4GW7wMXdPdplWvFr735Znh1yAuMwa5m3sL5b4Z9BmD4AabRyM_0S_0VjbsSHdJ9q2PvuG5FXjPlR19vBPlaZUlG3wexRE3FljQM8Y8k1V5NxocjB9eC0Cvianhv5HePCUEdI4/s1600/Christmas+Morning+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHrPia9B4GW7wMXdPdplWvFr735Znh1yAuMwa5m3sL5b4Z9BmD4AabRyM_0S_0VjbsSHdJ9q2PvuG5FXjPlR19vBPlaZUlG3wexRE3FljQM8Y8k1V5NxocjB9eC0Cvianhv5HePCUEdI4/s320/Christmas+Morning+2.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Christmas Day</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-e-MyrX4qt-1fu1Ik8ft-hYaD4twWqLcEklRkES7xVVpd2oyG6Kwi6QBqztbohyphenhyphenA09BmuX6sEI55F-Wxj1XfsSvlyVLw6vnhoc9qFWH7LWk5rDde9hWSTQv5PlIl4L58KmeOaSSK_ng/s1600/Christmas+Day+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-e-MyrX4qt-1fu1Ik8ft-hYaD4twWqLcEklRkES7xVVpd2oyG6Kwi6QBqztbohyphenhyphenA09BmuX6sEI55F-Wxj1XfsSvlyVLw6vnhoc9qFWH7LWk5rDde9hWSTQv5PlIl4L58KmeOaSSK_ng/s320/Christmas+Day+1.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7d2D3LDaU-sNMwl7H9gMmVyne-ZxeUE6TBOc_-Siw4SxxCWMuJPrjbtSpjVqUtMZWocietB7tKYbBcvMyCNNHz9mVPzLOTXgp4og-RE-_WOlqEn9MK7zm_bgl1k138obZ_Yrmdda9fo/s1600/Christmas+Day+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7d2D3LDaU-sNMwl7H9gMmVyne-ZxeUE6TBOc_-Siw4SxxCWMuJPrjbtSpjVqUtMZWocietB7tKYbBcvMyCNNHz9mVPzLOTXgp4og-RE-_WOlqEn9MK7zm_bgl1k138obZ_Yrmdda9fo/s320/Christmas+Day+2.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><br />
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<div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Currently, Jayson is sitting right beside me reading a book on Project Management. I can hardly think of anything less that I would like to be doing then reading a book on Project Management. I did read Jane Eyre over the Holidays, for the second time. Oh, how I love to read about Jane and Mr. Rochester. </span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yesterday, we went swimming down at Jungle Retreat with a family that is here serving Freedom Firm for a few weeks. Their daughters have become such a fun part of our holidays. My favorite part of the girls being around is the fact that Sophie, their 10-year-old, has taken James under her wing. She has the calming effect on him. James is one for the high emotions and he hardly bellows when she’s around. And if he does, she does this cute little Yorkshire accent on him and he is bewitched and calmed again. I am definitely keeping tabs on her until they become of the betrothal age. </span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbmddMRE-l9U7ETOudvy3ycV-3WTkxIcS6PEl-sCaLzJSZyF_n-xzn0cv07YPMd7xYuM1_URcEkZ3vPdE9VKxwZrIlwJrTWQexGu4eSGb6KLe7XsZvgaQoW5UsvLHoOznJHmCrhCPx04/s1600/Jovie+Goat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbmddMRE-l9U7ETOudvy3ycV-3WTkxIcS6PEl-sCaLzJSZyF_n-xzn0cv07YPMd7xYuM1_URcEkZ3vPdE9VKxwZrIlwJrTWQexGu4eSGb6KLe7XsZvgaQoW5UsvLHoOznJHmCrhCPx04/s320/Jovie+Goat.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Jovie holding a... kitty? a puppy? Nope. A goat.</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuRYvrtBENiazpaH97byTp7en1-TB3Tlrvj5H_8wQEcKF0l8BOSbR18g_LIFwyebJfQW72kWrRMCL6MnmjKnJjoaGehtF4S3EGOch3T-LBHDRhvpC8ouZY9v5LJm26QFNBd_zaYie_yc/s1600/Palms+and+Youngs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuRYvrtBENiazpaH97byTp7en1-TB3Tlrvj5H_8wQEcKF0l8BOSbR18g_LIFwyebJfQW72kWrRMCL6MnmjKnJjoaGehtF4S3EGOch3T-LBHDRhvpC8ouZY9v5LJm26QFNBd_zaYie_yc/s320/Palms+and+Youngs.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The Palms and the Youngs trying to track down any way possible to ride an elephant. Easier said than done. </div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE4JPZv2pjwe7shdZSJ_JluYlVBVZoaF5d3Aae94RAFo1Tj_IJPny6jSVSabeETBtPCIEAlYCab382tVwKm4Q3L4dMQvO5FuU871-ic5o1tPT_pWabUmDAE0iN7B4X1wapIgFOUfcS16Y/s1600/Elephant+Crossing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE4JPZv2pjwe7shdZSJ_JluYlVBVZoaF5d3Aae94RAFo1Tj_IJPny6jSVSabeETBtPCIEAlYCab382tVwKm4Q3L4dMQvO5FuU871-ic5o1tPT_pWabUmDAE0iN7B4X1wapIgFOUfcS16Y/s320/Elephant+Crossing.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course, an elephant crossing the road.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIVS30I7LqSIx-ubHQxv1326W5dhfkBPtb0Hi0i2v3kV0i4p878GGw4xDgQZtpUo1EFsfEPDGKOhFeCJwSm9CijKQQrIaQw2e2RUThMaaczA0neBWOfDl0vkVuCxCwoO2OMbwyuzxZBI/s1600/Elephant+Using+the+Toilet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIVS30I7LqSIx-ubHQxv1326W5dhfkBPtb0Hi0i2v3kV0i4p878GGw4xDgQZtpUo1EFsfEPDGKOhFeCJwSm9CijKQQrIaQw2e2RUThMaaczA0neBWOfDl0vkVuCxCwoO2OMbwyuzxZBI/s320/Elephant+Using+the+Toilet.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the point where James asked me, "Is that elephant going potty?"</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfb14EhU8rImK2J1xA2JXrOF7x8_U3GPFE5jYP9GT7uRwrB97NYVi1V4hyGsv8jBazd1tyyN6JK_njBxhTVmfzdxn5V-NIu_YIGA5ZsKqmw8hFnsjLCxwnS1yHkyYnBe9lTbUnEQrIXc/s1600/Elephant+Watching.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfb14EhU8rImK2J1xA2JXrOF7x8_U3GPFE5jYP9GT7uRwrB97NYVi1V4hyGsv8jBazd1tyyN6JK_njBxhTVmfzdxn5V-NIu_YIGA5ZsKqmw8hFnsjLCxwnS1yHkyYnBe9lTbUnEQrIXc/s320/Elephant+Watching.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBV8MFBT6Uy1f6OSYo_vp20Y4AWUo2OeAC-CzpM3dKooXA5d3x7AOWHt0iQuQsosGn9ZRngaTW5TBAyVyol8SVSwIowFMU9Rj668_kBF9vCXSHfVIG6DYSf6xIqMd2-jVOuv-27-hh_s/s1600/Everyone+Dive+In.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBV8MFBT6Uy1f6OSYo_vp20Y4AWUo2OeAC-CzpM3dKooXA5d3x7AOWHt0iQuQsosGn9ZRngaTW5TBAyVyol8SVSwIowFMU9Rj668_kBF9vCXSHfVIG6DYSf6xIqMd2-jVOuv-27-hh_s/s320/Everyone+Dive+In.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready, steady, jump!</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James, keep your eye on this girl...</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFx5bDX8H2hZVNpRua682HpVNivNME62xy6wC0ZTPMMNxUhtEHPPK_pYPBcu0kka2mj73e-aiq35BfFf5FZIjgxMyw4jS5PmCiR74z1eTHnwHKCg6pyG2w92_7x950sMgTI-kV8Q4ZPg4/s1600/James+and+Sophie+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFx5bDX8H2hZVNpRua682HpVNivNME62xy6wC0ZTPMMNxUhtEHPPK_pYPBcu0kka2mj73e-aiq35BfFf5FZIjgxMyw4jS5PmCiR74z1eTHnwHKCg6pyG2w92_7x950sMgTI-kV8Q4ZPg4/s320/James+and+Sophie+3.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Last night, after a long day of swimming, elephants, and driving, when all of us felt and looked like rubbish, Sydney was sitting in front of the mirror and proclaimed, “Oh my goodness, I look so beautiful.” Oh, to be Sydney for a day...</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="p1"></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hey, thanks so much to you who thought of us with your Christmas cards and Christmas emails. We continue to get two a day. Never three, not four or one... always two a day. Do you think that’s weird? I do. I kind of like it though. The pitter patter of Christmas cards is a glorious thing. </span></span></div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Naseema teaching me how to make Dosas and Pooris</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTXNUUr-kPl3cdiGRO6HtOsUw5Fx4uq13QTWw_Al7yU9Pq5k2qci4yjWSWNViPHzez7yog22i5uzSTrZOOoD-alb-xETWFBuNEZ_cToqD5ExdUOT9HmCGmX5xUg2y6aa6a9aRxw8NLEk/s1600/Dosa+Making+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTXNUUr-kPl3cdiGRO6HtOsUw5Fx4uq13QTWw_Al7yU9Pq5k2qci4yjWSWNViPHzez7yog22i5uzSTrZOOoD-alb-xETWFBuNEZ_cToqD5ExdUOT9HmCGmX5xUg2y6aa6a9aRxw8NLEk/s320/Dosa+Making+1.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSDoOzklqnjCr8mPjF3JUB2GD1iaBKprhhAxVTOqmDDc9qnIHGoZI7GXx8mzXrTDr7Ry7yKZ2cNPARSb64PTtSnYREJGlf8f5Alk89oyA8AzRDclangIvB8xJaz0A8Ypk0e2RQ9LPETI/s1600/Dosa+Making+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSDoOzklqnjCr8mPjF3JUB2GD1iaBKprhhAxVTOqmDDc9qnIHGoZI7GXx8mzXrTDr7Ry7yKZ2cNPARSb64PTtSnYREJGlf8f5Alk89oyA8AzRDclangIvB8xJaz0A8Ypk0e2RQ9LPETI/s320/Dosa+Making+2.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiyAQ9hiESAB8lE2xmAy6lu9wSN3z_YSofdlo5E1FTdq-4WH7bNhW_EFM-h6IF20qPEJ8JpKAJWdbe4pNvVOMQo2ZnYHFWeHOmdu0ucoznRXXaTnfpHliUzUXGYeiktGh9d8Y5kPQ3wbM/s1600/Dosa+Making+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiyAQ9hiESAB8lE2xmAy6lu9wSN3z_YSofdlo5E1FTdq-4WH7bNhW_EFM-h6IF20qPEJ8JpKAJWdbe4pNvVOMQo2ZnYHFWeHOmdu0ucoznRXXaTnfpHliUzUXGYeiktGh9d8Y5kPQ3wbM/s320/Dosa+Making+3.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpVjmhNaGn0fMokQx7GlEet1-mkLvHJBCcch18k8kPzBvh68BAx9-6NWoS0KAfJOvEhTGDjydVbkQBABxaGB76yZ8MU5Cl1y_pSEm7Bq98BRphoj_1QywMRGXkxtcwdRr8KfGZHIf8yc/s1600/Dosa+Making+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpVjmhNaGn0fMokQx7GlEet1-mkLvHJBCcch18k8kPzBvh68BAx9-6NWoS0KAfJOvEhTGDjydVbkQBABxaGB76yZ8MU5Cl1y_pSEm7Bq98BRphoj_1QywMRGXkxtcwdRr8KfGZHIf8yc/s320/Dosa+Making+4.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp515T_aB1z1zIaYB5pU3zc_J-MgbG1jKZMoF9_L-GF8iNta0VKT3hABXmkgwqGAdUwL7udOIqzaNeXoCgHHgy4aqMUBU-GrB96wAkD0JdB_ZPWcmfqMCJPslkpH_UuntoEZk0K0uNlRA/s1600/Birds+in+the+House.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp515T_aB1z1zIaYB5pU3zc_J-MgbG1jKZMoF9_L-GF8iNta0VKT3hABXmkgwqGAdUwL7udOIqzaNeXoCgHHgy4aqMUBU-GrB96wAkD0JdB_ZPWcmfqMCJPslkpH_UuntoEZk0K0uNlRA/s320/Birds+in+the+House.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two birds flew into the Dining Room</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IICL_FPsN8Y5JzR8QLig0hPz7ExyHkFRtKcFugdDb3MDlS2bOzBlmHCCOZHAqn8xpZa_FGOLRhUWg43VETl4x6BCW7VPmthdGnw2M7DwT8YEd9uTbdm0VvBmaXPTmP16OKyob3NAVkY/s1600/Tarrah+Dodging+the+Birds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IICL_FPsN8Y5JzR8QLig0hPz7ExyHkFRtKcFugdDb3MDlS2bOzBlmHCCOZHAqn8xpZa_FGOLRhUWg43VETl4x6BCW7VPmthdGnw2M7DwT8YEd9uTbdm0VvBmaXPTmP16OKyob3NAVkY/s320/Tarrah+Dodging+the+Birds.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Tarrah diving out of the way when one of the birds flew into the Kitchen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAulkZ-NC37qAASgkgUTWkw_27odhEueB0JSiFG0hzSq86P7bqbkAXwU4cupI2SurXW7HePR3X7BVgSVCrHuQ8ZUh8wmwdIv80vHEc6yi7qR4b0WTgeaPWrbHtkMy4siaO0DYCzESNzlY/s1600/India+Scooter+Headlight.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAulkZ-NC37qAASgkgUTWkw_27odhEueB0JSiFG0hzSq86P7bqbkAXwU4cupI2SurXW7HePR3X7BVgSVCrHuQ8ZUh8wmwdIv80vHEc6yi7qR4b0WTgeaPWrbHtkMy4siaO0DYCzESNzlY/s320/India+Scooter+Headlight.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headlight burnt out? No problem. Just grab a head lamp and a flashlight!</td></tr>
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It’s a double feature, 2 for 1, double stuffed pizza, buy-one-get-one-free, twice-baked potato. The earlier dated blog was written about a week ago. But same ole’, same ole’ excuse from this girl, there was a lack of internet at the house to send it, and Jayson and I didn’t have the giddy-up to bring it to the office to send. So, here we are, rolling it together, Hansel and Gretel, Gidget and Moondoggie, Tom and Jerry, Josh and Donna. Twice but Nice.<br />
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</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, my mom is here. Wednesday afternoon, James, Ani, and I jumped in a car and headed to Bangalore to surprise my mom. I am not sure at what point along the way I came to the conclusion that it was no biggie to drive eight hours and then turn right back around and drive back home. But, I guess I did. So, sixteen hours later, we were back in Ooty for breakfast, with my mom in tow. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-7tG02iC_ZJdewBTuZcThCO-XKmZJJdYbsxMWokjQ-wfh6iy_8-kWWY4XGl3RN0yDSqPMySQBG0UXx4p5ijLsFy9E8fYborhG0FYj0irunFxzjpkQThhJotbrGfuE6NpESB6YL9LjZc/s1600/Ani+James+McDonalds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-7tG02iC_ZJdewBTuZcThCO-XKmZJJdYbsxMWokjQ-wfh6iy_8-kWWY4XGl3RN0yDSqPMySQBG0UXx4p5ijLsFy9E8fYborhG0FYj0irunFxzjpkQThhJotbrGfuE6NpESB6YL9LjZc/s320/Ani+James+McDonalds.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped at the new McDonalds on the way to Bangalore</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlCokd00G3C-RACBuTgfq-IdSDHTlhTsZYl0Pa2yHiE6NAgd_t1JYF1NrRMzX0hGtk3w5gQmzolbIrUkajZtwsBpW9_xD_oSaLLCXmB5TXcrnik8IscQeMA-T-oJsL-1_6J2gjH80wQI/s1600/Ani+McDonalds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlCokd00G3C-RACBuTgfq-IdSDHTlhTsZYl0Pa2yHiE6NAgd_t1JYF1NrRMzX0hGtk3w5gQmzolbIrUkajZtwsBpW9_xD_oSaLLCXmB5TXcrnik8IscQeMA-T-oJsL-1_6J2gjH80wQI/s320/Ani+McDonalds.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ani giving the McDonalds "M" gang sign</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOvXd1H5MApA4cI0asm9paboZ04UX8soEpIveVbQqtwBf0sy6bIVXueEkuRyhyphenhyphenF5m6qSTmfKBSKf0m98ZjPMF-xn8Hy0FkCf8f6tXgEpK65HFMa7n2tMoZsZk2TbwY-BjHlYBTCbPBj4/s1600/James+Midnight+Cafe+Coffee+Day.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOvXd1H5MApA4cI0asm9paboZ04UX8soEpIveVbQqtwBf0sy6bIVXueEkuRyhyphenhyphenF5m6qSTmfKBSKf0m98ZjPMF-xn8Hy0FkCf8f6tXgEpK65HFMa7n2tMoZsZk2TbwY-BjHlYBTCbPBj4/s320/James+Midnight+Cafe+Coffee+Day.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's nothin' like a donut at 1:00 a.m. on the floor outside the Bangalore Airport</td></tr>
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</div><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Within two hours, my mom had given Ani and I haircuts. I have had a consistent bad hair day for months, I think this is why she was alright to cut my hair before she showered, hugged Jovie or unpacked. As we finally did get to unpacking, we discovered a ham, a few pounds of yum-a-dum-dum cheese, fudge, carmel, Christmas presents from Grandma and Grandpa and Nana and Papa, and so much more... my mom is brilliant.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My mom has also been in bed for the last few days. Poor, poor mom. Her back went out the evening she got here. So, we just brought the party to her. Opening up Christmas presents, breakfast, lunch, dinner, movies, playing - all the things that we would be doing anyway - just all held in James and Sydney’s ro</span></span>om. Works for us. We are just thrilled that she is with us. Anything else is just icing on the cake. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ9Jn2bylUISUw238QZwBBu1v5RLDBYzzPkZONCv0wt1iLdeil0z_njXZQKzzjeJ2uTNW8_R83ZPdGFZHIemneWaJOfsXL0EoT8j80WubzwC7bZIDUxYqgkgmnUkSh0OBIEQOoE3E0LTM/s1600/Christmas+in+the+Bedroom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ9Jn2bylUISUw238QZwBBu1v5RLDBYzzPkZONCv0wt1iLdeil0z_njXZQKzzjeJ2uTNW8_R83ZPdGFZHIemneWaJOfsXL0EoT8j80WubzwC7bZIDUxYqgkgmnUkSh0OBIEQOoE3E0LTM/s320/Christmas+in+the+Bedroom.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bringin' the Christmas to Grandma</td></tr>
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Also in the news is that I have officially watched my first Bollywood movie. I cannot believe that I have been here for two years and I haven’t feasted on a Bollywood production. A few staff and volunteers were all a bit traumatized that I hadn’t, so they brought over one of their fav’s (“Three Idiots”) and we baked some pizza and had a grand night. Now, the name is a bit ridiculous, in my book. The wow factor is not real high with that kind of name. It doesn’t have the “Pride and Prejudice”, “The Last of the Mohicans” or “It’s a Wonderful Life” kind of draw to it. Anyway, moving past the title, it was actually fairly engaging. My eyes did get sore reading subtitles, and of course the dancing was quite a kick, but all in all, I would totally recommend the movie. So, let me know when you watch your next Bollywood movie, I do want here all about it.</div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In Freedom Firm news, near the end of 2010 nineteen girls were rescued in Nagpur, a new area where Freedom Firm hopes to make major headway in the coming 12 months. 2011 is off to a mixed start, with five minor girls rescued just two weeks ago, then police in a different area this week gave excuses why they “can’t” help. It’s a roller coaster as usual. </span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"></span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-35483592622779430922010-12-23T11:24:00.000-06:002010-12-23T11:24:35.463-06:00Merry Merry Christmas Eve Eve<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vIe57fVXY4spTHOW05UX-_UkR0raW4UtWfg1A5ZoVJ-nixYBP0Q6seM5hxH2QPmkN-lx7wSRYeXlUfp7E9dSVLXCMqBM-1x2dsbkHzzaIJFmwwkUteubcNp06un8Z32d96MGFvQaVHU/s1600/Jovie+iPod.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vIe57fVXY4spTHOW05UX-_UkR0raW4UtWfg1A5ZoVJ-nixYBP0Q6seM5hxH2QPmkN-lx7wSRYeXlUfp7E9dSVLXCMqBM-1x2dsbkHzzaIJFmwwkUteubcNp06un8Z32d96MGFvQaVHU/s320/Jovie+iPod.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jovie getting down to U2's "Mysterious Ways"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Freedom Firm Christmas party</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6bIr1FKIkOy4R9NFw9PE0BNZN8GSGaeH017yW3BvYOIdWiLF1AvErKMCMI8QdUvQ4fCi9gB1C-k-kFfrDdpuzRNsfONpUKom6OuxuErsq1Ms18fxnUdF4PrOmTqZB1NgjtlbyYnj0u7k/s1600/Freedom+Firm+Christmas+Party+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6bIr1FKIkOy4R9NFw9PE0BNZN8GSGaeH017yW3BvYOIdWiLF1AvErKMCMI8QdUvQ4fCi9gB1C-k-kFfrDdpuzRNsfONpUKom6OuxuErsq1Ms18fxnUdF4PrOmTqZB1NgjtlbyYnj0u7k/s320/Freedom+Firm+Christmas+Party+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls doing a dance at the party that they had been working on for months</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="Body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merry, Merry Christmas Eve Eve to you! Just a wee note from the Palm Six to wish you all a Merry Christmas. I just ate two popcorn balls in the last ten minutes. My mom sent them to me; I mean our whole family. Confession (mom, don’t read this next part) in the last week the kids have each had two popcorn balls. I have one or two each day. I hid them from the kids. I love popcorn balls. My mom sent other treats, so they have had plenty of Grandma’s homemade goodness. Just not in the popcorn ball category. If you haven’t had a popcorn ball this season, run, run to your supermarket and get the ingredients now. </span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tarrah and the Freedom Firm aftercare crew baking for the Christmas party</span></o:p></div><div class="Body"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="Body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have been in the full Christmas swing around here. I think this year I will remember Christmas by all the baking. I think it’s been my coping mechanism a bit. I tried my hand at fudge this year. It never set. So, now, it’s fudge syrup for ice cream. We also tried our hand at caramels. They got brick hard. Now, they are caramel syrup for ice cream. Saufferer family (my maiden name), if you are reading this, don’t eat all the fudge and caramels at Christmas. Maybe you could pack up a bit of a Ziploc and send it with my mom when she comes in a few weeks... If you do eat it all, could you make some more? </span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a bit of shindig here tomorrow, for a Christmas Eve lunch. Appetizers, soup, bread, and yummy treats. I hope it’s a real barn burner. Can you have barn burners for Christmas Eve? Who even knows where the term barn burner came from? Anyway, I did put away the Star Wars light sabers and Nerf guns tonight. I remember last year’s Christmas party, there was a bit of deal with them. You don’t want to deal with a weapons deal on Christmas Eve, that’s my motto.</span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, so our mystery picture from the last blog got an overwhelming nod towards the overflowing yeast. I guess it wasn’t so mysterious. Or maybe you guys are incredibly smart when it comes to mystery pictures. Let’s go with the latter.</span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div><div class="Body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love to you all and Merry Christmas.</span></div><div class="Body"><br />
</div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-33401457682365997992010-12-14T09:47:00.002-06:002010-12-14T09:50:10.374-06:00Burning Plastic and Rank Garbage<div class="MsoNoSpacing"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James and Ani ready for a formal event at Hebron. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If anyone can guess what this is a picture of, we will be very impressed indeed!</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was just warmly sitting by a roaring fire and my keen sense of smell picked up a burning plastic smell. Like a bird dog, I put my nose to the ground and was off. After 10 minutes, I could only place the smell somewhere around the fire, but nothing more specific. So, in an attempt to guard against anything more hazardous happening, we put water on the fire. That was 10 minutes ago. “Jayson, does it still smell in the living room?” Jayson, “Little bit, not as bad.” Good, we are making progress. I was having a bit of a salty tooth and went to go scavenge the kitchen for a salt lick (a bit of deer humor, forgive me). All I could find was stale rice crackers and the smell of intense garbage. Bummer. Burning plastic and rank garbage, pretty much paradise island here in the Palm household.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, we definitely had a great fill of cuteness this last week at our kid’s Christmas play at school. For the last six weeks, our kids have been belting out a song, “Babushka, Babushka, open wide your eyes and you will see...Babushka, Babushka, baby Jesus came for you and me!” At all hours of the day, this song was heard. Even Jovie got it down. Ani was an angel, James, an Italian pizza delivery man, and Sydney was a tree. I don’t mean to play favorites here, but Sydney definitely was the most memorable of the three. Come on, a four-year-old in a Christmas play is nothing but fantastic. By the fourth and final performance I am pretty sure I saw her eyes roll up in her head and almost fall asleep on stage out of sheer exhaustion. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/jaysontarrah#p/a/u/0/jlsjAs0KSHQ">Click here for a taste</a>.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Hebron Christmas Program</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sydney on day 2, still smiling.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sydney on day 4, definitely done.</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to give a shout out for my favorite Christmas CD of the year. Andrew Peterson’s “Behold the Lamb” has heightened our celebration. If you like your music with a little folk and a lot of great lyrics, check it out. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The kids start their holiday this Thursday morning. They will be off until the first week in February. Being that we live in an international community, these are the answers I got when asking people how they are spending their holiday: Australia, Thailand, Kathmandu, North India tour, Scotland, the States, England, Ireland and Everest Base Camp. Whew!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some cool Freedom Firm news from Jayson. At Freedom Firm we’ve wanted to raise awareness in India about the problem of sex trafficking, but the tyranny of the urgent has pushed this aside regularly. Our amazing Finance Manager, however, lined up a school for us to do a presentation. Last Friday I had the privilege of seeing Vijaya, one of our rescued girls, share her story openly in front of 160 teenage girls at this school. Their response was overwhelming. The girls flocked to Vijaya afterward to talk to her and thank her. Several shared feedback, telling their stories of how they’ve been mistreated and not feeling like they’ve had a voice. At the very least we hope to help schools recognize the struggles of their students, but more than that we hope to find ways that these girls can get the help they truly need. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a bit hard to see, but that's Vijaya on the stage speaking to the girls. Even harder to see is Jayson sitting to the left of the podium. </td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay folks, it’s good night for now from the Palm house. Sleep tight.</span></div>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276244851555966668.post-19672661005455541242010-12-02T11:44:00.001-06:002010-12-02T11:47:35.147-06:00The Weather Outside is Frightful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPIhQfcqHBOD60mwtw3Q1lAurV5f7M8Obr60wusnVmf8omKn_1D9elkuH7y_4vngIDCKb0zIogv5d5EOLxWd-rxhoFwMv5Q0ls1pmmR8jY4XNvduT57evcgM80IOYzj2DvN1DpUQsqTM/s1600/Jovie+First+Motorcycle+Ride.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPIhQfcqHBOD60mwtw3Q1lAurV5f7M8Obr60wusnVmf8omKn_1D9elkuH7y_4vngIDCKb0zIogv5d5EOLxWd-rxhoFwMv5Q0ls1pmmR8jY4XNvduT57evcgM80IOYzj2DvN1DpUQsqTM/s320/Jovie+First+Motorcycle+Ride.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Jovie's first ride on daddy's bike. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The weather outside is frightful... ya ta da da da...” There was a reprieve in the rain a few days ago, but “it doesn’t show signs of stopping...” It’s official, and I am sorry to say it, but I have now been colder here in INDIA than any weather in frigid Minnesota. It doesn’t make sense. We are inches away from the equator, but I am telling you, I have been wearing four layers all day, inside, with wool socks and a hat on. I am not sure with what to do all my coldness. I am also sorry that I keep on leading with weather reports. I really can’t help it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, moving on to more exciting events, our current (electricity) flow into the house. Totally more exciting, right? So, I will try to shorten this fascinating story to a swallowable amount. For the last six months, our plug to our washing machine has been melting. We have probably gotten it fixed four times. Two weeks ago, we came home to a smell of burning and our plug to the geyser (pronounced “geezer”, the hot water heater) that is hooked up to the water in the bathroom had started melting. So, we could only plug it in for 20 minutes at a time or it would start smoking. I know, I know people, the Palms are usually a hazard waiting to happen, but this multiplied it tons. Early this week, the plug quit altogether. So, we called the electrician to come and fix it, and he came out and fixed the plugs, and he also said the current coming into the house wasn’t coming in properly. (Hang on folks, I’m almost done.) So, the EB guy came today. I have no idea what EB stands for, it’s the electricity people, maybe it stands for Electrical Board. Anyway, so this wee olderish man knocked on my back door today, asked me if my current was bad, and then proceeded to wrap a rope - like for sailing kind of a rope - around his waist, and then put a wide, elastic looking like hair band around his feet, and started shimmying up our electric pole. Just like that. About five minutes later, he came down and said it was all fixed. I asked him what the problem was and he said it was rusty. Rusty? That’s it? Rusty? I was looking for a paramount problem. In fact, I have been blaming myself for using too much electricity. I thought maybe the house wasn’t designed to run a washing machine at the same time as a refrigerator and geyser. But it was rust, an age old problem in the world of metal.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope your Thanksgivings were all grand. Ours was scrumptialicious. I ate so much of Bec’s Harvest Stuffing that it totally gave me a carb hangover the next day. We had Thanksgiving number one on the Friday before t-giving and Thanksgiving number two on the Saturday afternoon after t-giving. I was very thankful to have two groups of people to celebrate with. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Within the last week Freedom Firm has rescued 19 girls, and as I write this as they are doing another raid. All so exciting. So thankful.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Second Thanksgiving</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The First Thanksgiving</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjchyphenhyphenf0uAno1vZmIO0BKR3kslNLYmW5qYPocdWygikDvZ3GzoU8Np17AGlYxN_pJvWqJItpZjqkVm0hfsubbQ8fmW-AWWSc5BAeZcNFrYPpY6w6saZyJFcIrVpHfKDEFWRBHkApmmmcnM/s1600/Thanksgiving+Number+One.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjchyphenhyphenf0uAno1vZmIO0BKR3kslNLYmW5qYPocdWygikDvZ3GzoU8Np17AGlYxN_pJvWqJItpZjqkVm0hfsubbQ8fmW-AWWSc5BAeZcNFrYPpY6w6saZyJFcIrVpHfKDEFWRBHkApmmmcnM/s320/Thanksgiving+Number+One.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was asked to go into James’ class last week and talk about Christmas in America. I was a bit stumped at first. Not knowing really where to go with it, the previous week another mom came in and talked about an Australian Christmas. She talked about having a candlelight service on the beach, because its summer during Christmas in Australia. So, I talked about snow, and how the tradition of snow was a part of my memory of celebrating Jesus’ birth. I know, geographically speaking, it would be different all over the States, but I showed them where Minnesota is on the map and had them all say Minnesota. I taught them how to make snowflakes from folding paper and cutting little bits out and then unfolding it. I showed them how to do it and they thought I was so magical. And then I read them a story about snow and then we frosted sugar cookies. It was so fun. And it helped the missing of a Minnesota Christmas. </span>Jayson and Tarrahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07036054191566509008noreply@blogger.com4