Almond Butter and Rain

2 10 2007

You really must forgive me, all, when my posts are too full of food. I’ve been missing home lately and it seems to translate directly into “I miss mum’s food!” I’ve had several day dreams about the Giada soup she makes with panchetta and beans. I miss picking the beans out and putting them in a little bowl on the side. (I’ll eat peppers and cooked mushrooms if I must but I will NOT eat beans.)

Nikki said that when she misses her folks and wishes that they could share an experience, she writes it down. Then, by describing sounds, sights and smells they feel like they have been there and some distance is removed momentarily. To that end, I shall describe my afternoon.

Class finished early so I convinced Kate to take me to the bank. I’ve been out of money for about five days now and the situation was desperate. I love the bank here, it has glass doors and public-school carpeting. The teller is invariably interested in my place of origin and continually pleased to hear how beautiful their country is to a foriegner. Cashing traveler’s checks becomes something of an ordeal to an American. We’re used to quick, efficient and impersonal. I find myself making friends with almost everyone I talk to. This is enjoyable but time consuming.

After the bank comes any intercessory missionary’s favorite place *pauses for loud trumpeting* COUNTDOWN. It’s New Zealand’s answer to Albertson’s but slightly dodgier. There we purchased broccoli, toilet paper, raisons (called sultanas here) and pineapple bits. There was a good five minute discussion about the practicality of buying a coconut. Nikki was all for it, as was Kate. However, I realized that we lack both hammer and nails and to allow Badger and Dennis to chuck it at one another would be counter-productive. The coconut idea was abandoned.

We happened to wander down the wine aisle where I saw mum and dad’s favorite wine- the Yellow-Tail Shiraz stuff so popular with the Union Hill gang. I vowed that when the internship was done I would buy a bottle and toast NZ with it.

Purchases were made (I was very proud that I could identify the elusive ten-cent piece) and we headed home.

On arrival back at Casa Mayfair I realized that I was two things, cold and sleepy. (GBF strikes again!). Standing in the middle of the living room while Graham and Dennis organized their bikes and helmets for a ride to the Mount, I contemplated my choices. Dennis looks at me and says “We’re going to get rained on, aren’t we?” Shaking my head sagely I replied, “Yes, I’m afraid you are.” When the got back two hours later Dennis fixes me with a grave stare and says “Well, you are a prophetess.” Graham joins in (add cheeky british accent) “But you aren’t a false prophet so we shan’t stone you!”

I was very relieved.

But back to my afternoon- I gave up on being productive in the interm between shopping and dinner. It’s really hard to get motivated about stuff when you haven’t recieved any new e-mails. Don’t ask me why but it’s true. So I curled up in my bed with one of my Sherlock Holmes books. About three pages in I hear this enormous rattling. It sounds like dozens of tiny horses are running about on the tin roof just over my head. An awkward but effective backbend/head-roll cleared up the mystery. It was raining. This was a rain to make Seattle proud. Feeling both slightly melancholy and oddly comforted I curled up in the fetal position, tucked the blankets around me and kept on reading.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my afternoon.

(But it has a happy ending. I got two e-mails. One from Hilary telling me about a [very handsome] boy who’s taking her out and one from Mother Carr inviting me to come and live with them when I get back to the States.)




5 responses

2 10 2007
Jennifer James

Meggers- whenever it storms here, I sit in a chair in front of the deck window and think of you.
I also bought warm vanilla sugar lotion, and slather it on myself like icing, because then, when I smell my arm, it’s like leaning on your shoulder.

2 10 2007
Mother Smith

YOU MAY NOT LIVE WITH THE CARRS…..unless the Lord tells you to.:)Although it is eaiser to get to Illinois than to NZ! Mum

2 10 2007

Pray about it before you use capitals! I’ve never been to Illinois…
No worries, though. The Lord won’t let me if I’m not supposed to.

Jen- Is it weird that I’m glad that I smell like vanilla?

2 10 2007
Mother Smith

Nope ,sorry….it is a mothers perogitive to use capitals when ever she wants, 🙂

3 10 2007
Jennifer James

Oh smack talk from mom.

And yes, tis ok to be proud.

*smells my arm*

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