Nana Learns a Lesson From Mighty Mite

I've only been here a week and I can already tell you that I've got a lot to learn when it comes to entertaining little munchkins.  Mika is my only grandchild so it's not like I've had a lot of experience.  Oh, sure...I was a mother before I was a "Nana" and my own two children surely should count for something when it comes to taking care of wee ones.  However, my mothering skills were always slightly bohemian, to say the least, and sometimes slightly north of "dismal", to be charitable.

When diapers were REALLY bad, I'd start gagging and my hubby would have to take over.  If one or the other was on a vomiting spree, it was the same thing.  My gag reflex would go into overdrive and I'd beat a hasty retreat as soon as my saint of a hubby took over.  In fact, it wasn't until my daughter was college age that I managed to stay up all night with her, rubbing her back as she prayed to the porcelain god, handing her wet washcloths and offering words of encouragement.  I felt pretty darn proud of myself.

If one of my little ones got injured, I could pull it together and take care of business but I was useless in other settings like when my son got his wisdom teeth removed and the nurses had to send me to the nearest bathroom where they had me put my head between my legs to avoid passing out and THAT was just a reaction to them giving me the "after-surgery" care instructions.  My son ended up having to pack his own gum sockets with gauze because I was so darn squeamish that he got tired of waiting for me to pull the old gauze squares out and put the new ones in.  When the same child accidentally put his hand through a glass storm door, I ended up on the floor beside the gurney with my head on the mattress beside him while the doctors sewed him up.  It's become a standing joke in our family...."Don't count on Mom if there's blood involved."

I was pretty creative when it came to playtime with the children but sometimes I'd get them so wound up that it would take an hour or more for my husband to get them calmed down.   I could blow into a room of toddlers like a one-woman 3-ring circus and blow out a half hour later, leaving them in a state of chaos.  Hey, I was a trained performer.  If they wanted a mop-up crew, they could hire Mary Poppins.

Patience has never been my strong suit.  When my children would get on my last nerve, I'd lock myself in my bedroom for a "time-out."  It was a novel approach but it worked.  The fighting or whining would quickly stop when they'd realize that Mom had disappeared.  Soon I'd hear their little voices outside my door saying "Mommy, are you in there."   I'd yell out, "Mommy's having quiet time.  Just stay put and she'll be out soon."

When our daughter was a very young tike, she would NOT stay asleep.  She'd cry for hours at a stretch and nothing we could do would console her.  The only thing that ended up working was putting her in a stroller, tying a rope to the back of the stroller and then sitting on the sofa, kicking the stroller out to the end of the rope and then using the rope to reel it back in.  The constant "out and in" motion would eventually lull her to sleep and kept us somewhat sane in those days.

So you see, I'm not exactly coming into this grandparenting thing with a lot of confidence.  On the plus side, my kids survived and don't seem to hate me and do seem pretty well-adjusted.  On the negative side, I find myself rather mystified by what to do with a little one these days.  My little granddaughter has been keeping me definitely challenged as I try to give her mom a break by entertaining little Mika.  She's a tough audience.  Mika is at that age where she isn't going to sit engrossed in something for an hour at a time.  I'm becoming intimately familiar with most of her toys because we go through a lot of them in the course of our playtimes together. 

She knows what she likes and she knows what she doesn't like.  The kid has a pitching arm that could put some of the minor league players to shame and if she is done with a toy, duck!  On the other hand, she is a great little mimic and I'm having a lot of fun watching her learn new words and actions almost daily.
She does NOT like to go to sleep.  I think she just doesn't want to miss any of the things that we grownups are doing.  However, that ends up making her very tired and cranky by the end of the day.  Her parents have the patience of saints because they aren't getting much sleep either with their little one waking up so much during the night.

I remember her father used to hate going to bed when he was a toddler.  It got so bad that I'd put him down at night and then go up to my sewing room to work on something and soon I'd feel little eyes on me.  Sure enough, there he'd be in the doorway giving me a charming grin.

"Whatcha doing, Mommy?" he'd ask.

I knew It was useless to put him back in his crib because he'd be out of it and down the hallway before I ever made it to the other end of the house.  Instead I'd just keep working away and talk to him as I worked.  His daddy was on a ship at sea so I always figured that my little boy was afraid that if he let me out of his sight, I might disappear too.  Inevitably, I'd end up getting so tired that I'd finally decide to call it a night and I'd turn to him and say, "Jason, Mommy is going to bed.  Just turn out the lights when you go to bed, ok?"

That usually did the trick.  He'd see me heading off down the hall and when he realized that I wasn't going to be up and talking to him anymore, he'd run down the hall on his pudgy little legs and crawl back into bed.  I'd turn off the lights and head to bed myself.  

I don't suppose that approach will work with little Mika right now.  She's still a tad too young, for one.  Maybe they should try the recommendation my Uncle Cliff gave me with our first baby -  "Drink a few beers and then nurse the kid."   Hmmm, then again, it never did much to put our Laura to sleep but it sure helped me sleep like a baby, well, when my Baptist conscience would let me.

Dessert in Any Language

The other day Jason took me to get a local treat that he thought I would enjoy.  It's called "martabak" and I'll try to describe it for you.  It's kind of like a combination thick pancake and a sponge cake rolled into one.  The vendor pours batter into a skillet mold and lets it fry up into a "crispy on the outside but soft on the inside" cake mold.  Then he puts a variety of things in it, depending on what you ordered.  Some of the options available are shredded cheese, chopped nuts, sweetened condensed milk, and dark chocolate chips. 

Jason and I ordered one from the Martabak vendor who sets up his stand outside of the Catholic university in town in the evenings.  We ordered a Martabak with sweetened condensed milk, chopped nuts, and chocolate chips.  The young man set to work making our Martabak to order.  While he worked, he graciously pulled out two small plastic stools for us to sit on as we waited.

When the cake (for want of a better term) came out of the pan, the vendor set it on his tiny counter and then poured the condensed milk over the top, sprinkled it with the nuts and then sprinkled the chocolate chips over it.  He then cut it in half and placed one half on top of the other. 

By this time, the chips were melting into a gooey delight and the condensed milk was seeping into the buttery cake.  The vendor then cut the half into smaller sections and put it in a box for us to take home.  Once we were home, Jason assured me that Martabak isn't very good eaten as a leftover the next day so we dug in and polished off as much as we could.  It was good....not too sweet (I DO miss my frosting fix) but sweet enough to qualify as dessert in any language for this lady with a huge sweet tooth.

Getting There Ain't Easy

Since Jason and his family don't have a car here in Bandung, they must rely on public transportation or good old "sole" power to get anywhere or else they spring for a taxi.  It wouldn't seem like that big a deal except for the fact that you can't just step outside of the house and walk to the curb to catch a bus. Their apartment is down a bunch of twisty, narrow alleys in a kampung in Bandung.  A taxi will only come so far and then they have to walk the rest of the way because otherwise the taxi will either get stuck in the narrow passages or won't be able to turn around.  Buses don't run down here.  You have to walk out to a main road to find them.  When we want to go grocery shopping, here is our typical trip.

First we head out the door and start down the narrow alleys until we get to a wider alley.

After that first big turn, we head straight for a little ways, past folks sitting on small porches or on benches and past a tiny kiosk until we come to a larger square.  It's here where a taxi usually drops us off.

We turn right and head up the next alley.  Usually there is a group of young boys playing a  lively game of soccer and we wait for them to notice us and temporarily stop play for us to pass.

The end of this alley opens up to an intersection, which we cross and then we start up another hill, past the language school that Laura and Jason are attending.

Language School

  It's uphill some more until we finally come to the corner of a main road where we wait to catch an "angkut", which is a mini-van that is the economy public bus used to get around town.  You see these green vans all over.  They have small bench seats along each side of the van and we squeeze in wherever we can find a spot.  Sometimes these can really get crowded and you get to know your fellow passengers up close and personal very quickly.

The angkut tears down the road, swerving as needed to avoid the many motorcycles that are weaving in and out of the traffic.  Along the way, passengers will yell out when they want to be left off and the van will come to a stop and everyone shifts to let the person crawl over them to get to the open doorway.

Depending on which grocery store we are going to, we either take the angkut right up to the entrance of the shopping area OR we get off fairly close and then navigate the treacherous walk the rest of the way.  I say "treacherous" because the sidewalks are either non-existent or else in very bad repair.  Many choose to walk on the side of the roads but that in itself is quite scary with cars, vans, and motorcycles careening past, tooting their horns at you and at each other.  Jason told me that the penalties are quite stiff if a vehicle hits a pedestrian and that, in the past,other drivers would punish the driver who hit the pedestrian.  Now, however, this driver revenge is highly frowned upon by the government and hopefully that practice is falling by the wayside.  Either way, the story didn't exactly fill me with confidence.  I've yet to see any pedestrian crossings and have been terrified when I've had to cross any busy roads.

Coming back from the grocery store, laden with bags, we usually get a taxi.  Jason negotiates the price with the driver and then we crawl into the back seat.  Forget buckling up.  Quite often the seatbelts don't work.  I just try to look at the scenery and pray for safe travels back.

Now doesn't that make you appreciate being able to just step into your garage, which is probably attached to your house, get into your car, and then drive maybe 5 minutes on nicely paved roads with clearly marked traffic signs and lanes to a grocery store where you can load up on goodies and then cart them out to the car, put them in the trunk and head on home, pulling right into your driveway?   I think one of the first things I'm going to do when I get home is hug the hood of my Pontiac Vibe (after I hug the Commander and the dog, of course).

I Was Smokin' Hot!

I knew before I arrived that appliances would be operating on a different voltage and so I came with plug adaptors and converters.  What I didn't realize was that my curling iron was not a dual-voltage iron.  Drat!
The first time I plugged it in (using my plug adaptor), it got to smelling pretty hot.  That was my first clue.  I decided that maybe I'd better unplug it and just curl my hair quickly while the iron was still hot.  It worked - sort of.

The next time I used it was after I arrived in Bandung.  I had showered and dried my hair, noting with satisfaction that my hair dryer worked as it should, thank you very much after I had changed the voltage switch.  Then it came time to use the curling iron.  I plugged it in, let it warm up for a few minutes and started curling my hair.  Hmmm, as I'd wrap a section of hair around the iron, I noticed that my hair seemed to be smoking.  I was kind of hoping that was steam and that maybe my hair was still a little damp but nevertheless, I figured out that I'd better get the job done quickly and I did just that.

Yesterday I had a triumph of sorts.  I finally found some hair spray in a local store.  Yay!  With all the humidity here, even curling my hair wasn't doing much good without spray.  Maybe I now had a fighting chance at looking semi-presentable.  That was the good news.  Then this morning I plugged in the curling iron yet again and quickly curled my hair.  It looked good.  Oh, sure....I was smoking again but only a bit and besides, what female doesn't want to be "smokin' hot" at some point in her life? 

With curls in place, I sprayed them but good and stood back to admire my "do" in the mirror.  It was then that I happened to glance at my curling iron, which sat cooling on the table.  Hmm, it seemed to be sitting at an odd angle.  I didn't remember it ever being angled like that before.  I picked it up and examined it more closely.  Yikes!  The darn thing had gotten so hot that the iron part had melted part of the plastic handle.  So much for THAT curling iron.  I had gone from "smokin' hot" to having a "meltdown" in the space of a few minutes 

Luckily, Jason, little Mika and I were able to head out this afternoon to do some shopping and I found a new curling iron.  It wasn't cheap but it should work just fine.  How we got to the stores is a story in itself but that will have to wait until my next post.  Until then, bye-bye from Bandung!

The Sounds of Bandung

Most days and nights, the windows are open here in the apartment in Bandung.  That's something that hardly ever happens at our house in Pennsylvania because the Commander has allergies.  Therefore, in the summer he wants the air conditioning on and windows closed and in the winter, the heat is on so windows need to stay shut.  It creates a cocoon of silence occasionally broken by the dog's barking.

Here in Bandung, there are so many sounds that I find it quite overwhelming.  Here is a typical day's worth of sounds that I'm hearing.  My day today began at 3:41 a.m. as I heard the first strains of the call to prayer sounding in the distance.  As I listened, the call was repeated around the city, getting closer and closer until the loudspeakers which seem to be right beside our house started with the refrain.  I swear it went on for a good half hour. 

By then, the roosters had woken up and started their crowing.  One particular over-achiever didn't even take a breath between crows.  His cock-a-doodle-doos were continuous.  For two cents, I would have wrung his neck and fried him up for dinner.

The dogs decide to join the chorus and then the first sputtering motorcycle in the neighborhood roars to life and this is all before 4:30 am.  It's a lost cause.  By 5 a.m., I'm up and dressed.

Throughout the day, voices sound outside our windows.  Apparently, we have several busy walkways bordering the house.  An occasional vendor walks past hawking his wares.  I'm not sure what those are since I don't understand the language but he repeats the same word over and over. 

Soon a lively game of street soccer begins and the laughter of children fills the air, punctuated by the thud of the ball and the grunts of colliding youngsters.  The game eventually breaks up as they are called in for a meal, which I've heard being prepared because I've heard pots and pans knocking about and the smells are starting to reach my nose.

The call to prayer repeats throughout the day and into the evening.  For example, it's 7:18 p.m. and the imans have been chanting for awhile now.

Babies cry off and on, motorcycles putt-putt from the wee hours until late at night since the alleys here are too narrow for a car to get through, and friends and neighbors call out to each other in passing.

Several days now I've heard the rumble of thunder in the distance as the rain has moved in, usually in the afternoons.  Last night, I listened to the raindrops fall on the roof all night long.

If I have dark circles under my eyes, it should be no surprise.  I'm experiencing sensory over-stimulation.  Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore! And just in case I forget why I'm doing all this, I have to post a pic of my little sweet pea to remind myself.

On the Road to Bandung

Thursday morning, after a nice breakfast of pancakes at the apartment in Jakarta, Jason and I headed off to the train station to catch a train to Bandung.  Jason already had purchased tickets so we had reserved seats and they were nice and comfy - even had foot rests.  But before we hopped on board, we stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts shop in the station to pick up sandwiches for the 3 1/2 hour ride to Bandung.  Jason had warned me that I'd see some delicious-looking donuts in that shop but not to be fooled.  They really didn't taste anything like our American donuts.  So even though I have to admit that I stood there and gazed fondly at every single variety of them, I didn't buy a single one.

On our way over to the station, Jason had been telling me about an Australian TV show that they sometimes show on the trip which is similar to our "Candid Camera" and lo and behold, that show was playing on the TV in the train car.  I think I was feeling a little giddy from the jet lag because everything on that show was striking me as hysterically funny.  I really had the giggles.  The antics of the folks on that show certainly kept me entertained for part of the journey.

The beginning of the trip out of Jakarta was very interesting.  The train ran past many slum areas which often seem to be built right up to the tracks practically.  Because the tracks were elevated somewhat, I often found myself looking down on the roofs of the dwellings and wondering how in the world a person would ever be able to navigate their way through the maze of those interconnected alleys.  I was impressed with the fact that the people make use of whatever building material they can find.  The corrugated tin roofs are often weighted down with rocks or tires to keep the roofs from blowing off in wind or rain.  Laundry was hanging on railings and roof tiles and over window sills.   The homes all seem to be connected to each other - the outer wall of one house becoming the wall of another home until a neighborhood almost resembles some fantastical creature that is constantly morphing into an ever-changing shape.

When I think of how we Americans so jealously guard our precious square footage of yard space between our homes, I'm struck by how the very nature of the slums in the big cities here create an instant sense of close community.  Everyone is living in such close proximity that in order for chaos to be kept at bay, you have a sense of a large extended family with much more interaction between neighbors than we are used to in our suburbs.

Leaving Jakarta, we started climbing in elevation and soon I was looking at rice paddies.  It was so interesting to see the terracing that they do to keep each little field level enough to ensure that the plants can be flooded with water without it draining off.   I also was enjoying seeing the banana plants or trees, which I have always associated with tropical places.  I even saw some houses with the old Javanese architecture, the roofs ending in points fore and aft like the prow and bow of a ship.  There were even some homes in the fields with the walls made of the plaited mats, elevated on stilts.

Soon we began to see mountains looming in the distance.  These aren't the gentle rolling hills of my Pennsylvania or even the more rugged mountains of the Smokies or Rockies.  These are some fantastic shapes that are caused by the fact that many of these mountains are dormant or extinct volcanoes.  They are the mountains that I've dreamed about since I saw the movie "South Pacific" and all those TV episodes with Gardner McKay in "Adventures in Paradise."  They were just beautiful.

Jason pointed out the tea plants that were everywhere, growing along the side of the tracks and bordering many of the rice fields.  I asked him if these plants grew wild and he told me that he didn't believe so.  He thought that the farmers simply used every available space that they could find.  I certainly had no idea that my tea came from plants like these.

We finally pulled into the station at Bandung and disembarked with all my luggage.  We hauled it all around the corner from the station so that we could hail a taxi that would be cheaper than the ones that wait right at the station.  It was certainly nice to have Jason there, able to negotiate all of this.  I actually felt kind of sorry for the taxi driver who took us up to Jason's neighborhood.  At first we were driving past many stately old homes that were probably from the Dutch era and we also passed many newer "mansions" that were probably owned by wealthy Indonesians from Jakarta who own second homes in Bandung where they can go to escape the heat of Jakarta.  But then we kept climbing higher up and the streets got narrower and narrower and bumpier and finally we were driving in one-lane roads, narrowly missing walkers or folks on motorcycles.  Man, I wouldn't have wanted to drive that route ever! 

Our driver got us as close as he could to Jason's apartment and then he dropped us off.  We made the rest of the way on foot, down narrow alleys.  Who should meet us partway but my daughter-in-law Laura carrying Mika.  Oh boy, it was good to see them.  I even got a big smile from Mika right away.  We made the final climb up to the house, which has a bird's eye view of the neighborhood (looking out over the roofs of the neighbors' homes) and the mountains in the distance and then, after getting my bags into the house, it was time to meet some of the neighbors.  They were so gracious and pleased to meet Mika's Nenek (I'm probably not spelling that correctly).  Yup, I'm Ibu Dee here.  And I can say that the feeling was mutual.  Just wish I could speak Bahasa Indonesia more than "Thank You" and the typical greetings but thank goodness that the kids can translate for me.

It was early to bed for all of us that first night in Bandung.  I'll tell you about the sounds of Bandung in my next post.

Fave Fiving From Indonesia

Guess what?  I made it to Indonesia.  My Fave Five for this Friday (I THINK it's Friday but don't quote me on that) will all be centered on my trip out here.  Can't post a lot of pics since I'm using my son's internet connection and media allotment but I'll try to give you a few.  For today, it's all about my little Mika.  And here is the pic that sums it all up.  We hit it off from the moment Laura met Jason and I walking from the taxi up the alley to the house.  I have been grinning ever since.  But back to my Fave Five:

1.  I survived all the plane rides.
2.  My bags arrived as well as myself.
3.  I made it safely through Customs.
4.  My jet lag hasn't been too bad.
5.  Jason and I made connections in Jakarta and then took the train to Bandung where we were reunited with Laura and little Mika.

Now here's the "rest of the story" about my flight over.  First let me just say that flying from New York City to Jakarta, Indonesia is a VERY long trip.  I will never again complain about how long it takes to fly to the West Coast in the U.S. or over to Europe.  Piece of cake, my friends!  My first leg of my journey was from JFK to Vancouver, British Columbia which was over 5 hours of flying.  Then we sat on the plane for an hour while it was refueled and a new crew arrived.  From there we flew another 13 hours to Hong Kong.  I had a short layover there (about 1 1/2 hours) and then I was on another plane for a 5 1/2 hour flight to Jakarta.  During all the flying, Cathay Pacific fed us well.  I think I had 2 suppers, 2 breakfasts, and one cup-o-noodles (try eating THAT with chopsticks).  What a nice airlines.  The flight crews were all so helpful and polite.  I highly recommend that airlines.

 I had also been very excited about the fact that each seat would have its own entertainment module with TV screen.  What I didn't realize was the height and distance of the screen (on the back of the seat in front of me) would be at just the wrong distance for my field of vision since I have bifocals.  The only way to see the screen somewhat clearly was to either tilt my head back the entire time, take off my glasses, lean forward and put my nose close to the screen, OR push myself back as far as I could into my seat and hold myself in that position.  None of those positions was a great alternative over the long haul so I would alternate between all three over all my flight time.  Consequently, I didn't watch much on the screen and instead, read my Kindle or slept.
Speaking of sleeping, I was surprised that I was able to sleep as much as I did on the flights.  I suspect it was because I changed my seating at the last minute.  As I was in line to board in New York, a young woman standing behind me glanced over my shoulder and said, "Oh, YOU have seat 56C.  Would you mind changing with me so that I could sit with my parents?"  She had the window seat in the row behind me.  I was reluctant to do so because I had really wanted to be on an aisle so that I could easily get up to stretch my legs but I felt bad for her and decided to switch with her.  Yes, I was crammed where I was now sitting but the good part was that I could easily lean against the bulkhead to sleep, which I would not have been able to do if I had been on the aisle.  So any time one of the folks in my aisle got up to use the restroom, I made a point of getting up, too.  It worked. My ankles were still swollen but not as badly as I feared they might be and I also made a point of drinking lots of fluids and I didn't end up with those horrible leg cramps in the night that I was fearing.
So I arrived safely in Jakarta, Indonesia and piled off the plane with the rest of the passengers.  I had my customs documents in hand and the instructions from my son as to getting a visa and sure enough, I found the right line to stand in to get my visa.  It went smoothly.  My only confusion was where to go after that to get my baggage.  Somehow I found myself in a fenced off corridor that said "Diplomats" and when I stopped in confusion and was looking around to try to figure out how to get to one of the other lines, a policeman came up to me and looked at my paperwork and told me to just continue on to the baggage area.  Later my son asked me if the Customs folks had said anything about the fact that I was going to be in the area longer than 30 days (the amount of time you are allowed in on a tourist visa).  No, they hadn't although I had put "35" on my form, knowing that we were going to have to file for an extension.  Then Jason asked me how the fingerprinting had gone.  I thought he was kidding.  Turns out he wasn't.  Apparently, you also get fingerprinted when you come into the country.  I wasn't.  There was no place that I could see where they asked me for fingerprints but always they waved me through after stamping my papers.  Oh, well.  I told him, "Well, a Customs official did look at my paperwork on my way to Baggage Claim and tell me to be sure to fill in the "Departure" information and I told him that yes, I'd be sure to fill that all in before I left."
Jason looked at me.  "You're suppose to fill that all in when you arrive, Mom, so that they know how long you are planning to be in the country.  No wonder they didn't say anything about you being here longer than 35 days."   
(Just a note:  I found out since I initially wrote this that what must have happened is that I inadvertantly went to the "Diplomat" section to get my visa which is how I ended up in the Diplomat corridor.  No wonder I got through everything so quickly.  Laura said that when I told the policeman that I wasn't a diplomat, he probably didn't understand English and all he probably recognized was the word "diplomat" and thought I WAS a diplomat. 
I guess ignorance is bliss sometimes.  But back to my story.  I was thrilled to see both of my bags coming out of the carrel.  Yay, they'd made it all the way.  I grabbed them off the belt and put them on a wheeled cart and then off I went, turning right as I came out of the baggage area and there was Jason standing head and shoulders above the crowd, waving at me.  Oh boy, was it good to see him.  And it was wonderful to have someone who spoke the language to be able to fend off all the good-natured offers of help and taxis as we left the airport terminal.  Jason had already arranged for a taxi to meet us and the driver showed up right away.  I was SO grateful to have an air-conditioned van to ride in and a pleasant driver to take us right to the apartment. 
Traffic!  Oh boy!  I had been warned that the driving would be different in this country and it is.  I sure wouldn't want to have to drive here.  Several times Jason told me to "not look" as our driver went onto the shoulder around cars and trucks or when cars would drive over curbs and onto our lane.  And the motorcycles......gosh, they were everywhere, weaving in and out of the traffic, just missing near death by inches constantly.  Part of me couldn't stop looking at them and part of me wanted to keep my eyes shut at times.  Mostly my fascination won and I just took it all in.
There is a lot of construction going on in this town.  Jason says that the economy is booming here and I see signs of that everywhere with the obvious growth going on.  We were in the financial district and went through the embassy area mainly, also going past big malls and huge billboards in English and Bahasa Indonesia.  Sometimes I glimpsed slums down side streets.  I'll be seeing those up closer later in my trip.   But this day was to be firmly set in modern Jakarta.  It all reminded me of Athens, Greece (with all the construction) and some of Rabat, Morocco.  And my goodness, it is summer here, not winter, which I left in the U.S.   I'm mighty happy for the modest air conditioning that they have in the apartment here.  I packed quite a few long-sleeved shirts, thinking it will be cooler in the mountains once we get to Bandung but if it isn't, I might not be wearing those much on my trip.
We arrived at the apartment where I kicked off my shoes and put my feet up for a bit before Jason and I walked over to the little mall across the street for some fried noodles (yummy).  Then it was back and I had a chance for a shower (heaven) and more time with my feet up while we watched a DVD of old "Monk" reruns.  I'm afraid I didn't make it beyond the first episode.  I was fading fast at that point.  I did manage to stay up until around 7 p.m. local time and then I went to bed.  Jason figured I'd probably be up at 3 or 4 a.m. because of the jet lag and time differences but I actually slept very well.  I woke up at one point and checked my watch.  I thought it said 8 a.m.  Yikes!  I sprang up because Caroline, one of our friends, was supposed to be coming over for breakfast at 8.  I couldn't believe that I'd slept that long.  I looked out the window but it was still dark out.  Looked at my watch again.....and looked at it again......and again.  How could it be 8?  Finally I realized that I was holding it upside down and it was actually 2:30 a.m.  Back to bed I went.  At 4 a.m. the "call to prayer" sounded outside.  It went on for quite some time.  I don't remember it being such a long production in Morocco but they really do a melodious "call to prayer."  I went back to sleep and finally got up at 6 a.m.  Praise God that I did not have the horrible leg and foot cramps nor any problem sleeping.
I woke this morning and enjoyed a pancake breakfast with Jason and our friend, Caroline before we headed off to the train station to catch a train to Bandung to be reunited with Laura and little grandbaby, Mika.  I'll tell you all about it in my next post.  Suffice it to say, I enjoyed some beautiful vistas of rice paddies, mountains, and tea plants.  Got some lovely pictures, too but since Jason only is allotted so much space on his internet plan, I'll probably only be able to upload a few pics at a time unless we get to a WiFi place.  So till my next post, goodnight from Bandung, Indonesia! 

If you'd like to post a Fave Five yourself, visit Suzanne's blog at Living to Tell the Story.

Almost Ready!

 

Well, we're getting down to the wire as I prepare for my journey to Indonesia.  My bags are just about packed with the exception of a few things to go in my carry-on luggage.  The big suitcase sitting on the floor is almost completely filled with things going to my son and his family.  The small duffle bag suitcase has 5 weeks worth of clothes in it (am I optimistic on this or what?) and the wheeled tote will be filled with my meds and electronic gear.

Some things did NOT make the cut (dolls excluded - they weren't going to begin with).  It's unfortunate but I consulted with my little family overseas and we made compromises.  In some cases, where I had multiple amounts of something, I included part and left some behind.  In other cases, we are figuring that I can either mail these items to them when I return or they can stay here until the next time they are Stateside. 

Now I'm just going around the house making sure I haven't forgotten something.  I'll get out the purse I'm taking and get that organized tonight.  I do feel a little bad that this little Christmas decoration is probably the only holiday decorating that will be found in our house.  I don't think that the Commander will be putting up any other things in my absence.  Oh well, maybe we can have a small "belated holiday celebration" upon my return.

Hopefully the next blog posting will be from Jakarta, enroute to Bandung.  In the meantime, if I cross your mind, say a prayer for safe travels.  It would be much appreciated.

Jack Reacher Had It Right

It's Friday already?  Oh, say it ain't so!  Where has the week gone?  Of course it hasn't helped matters any that I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get ready for my upcoming trip to Indonesia.  Since this past week has been all about trying to prepare for my trip, I thought I'd dedicate my Friday's Fave Five items to "trip preparations."

1.  I've finished wrapping the Christmas presents that will remain here for my family staying behind.  I delivered all the gifts to my brother and his family over Thanksgiving so all that remains are the ones for my hubby and my daughter and son-in-law.  It certainly does feel good to have all the shopping finished for the holidays.  I have a few items that are still en-route to the house but the Commander can handle the wrapping of those when they arrive.

2.  I've given my contact information to my mom's nursing home.  I headed over there today to read to Mom and to make sure that the nursing staff knew who to contact while I'm overseas.  I also took over gifts for all the nursing staff on Mom's wing.  This year I took some of my photographs of Mom and added some quotes about the elderly and/or caregiving to them, doctored the pics up a little with some digital scrapbooking elements and then put them in frames so that each nurse and aide could have a framed picture/quote.

3.  I've finished up some last-minute knitting.  This scarf is called "Counterpoint" and was designed by Jennifer Crawford.  It illustrates a type of knitting called "illusion knitting."  When you look at the scarf head-on, all you see are two-color striping.  When you lay the scarf down and look at it from an angle, you see the pattern emerge, which is a piano keyboard.  Neat, huh?

4.  I've set up a Global Messaging feature for my iPhone.  This way, I'll be able to send 50 text messages a month for just 20 cents per text message and it will just cost me $10 for the month.  Since I will be able to Skype to talk with my hubby, I really only want the convenience of texting for such things as letting him know when I arrive at the different airports on my way, etc.

5.  I've begun packing.  This is my big suitcase.  Oh, my!  After getting the baby's travel crib in it, I was left with about 1/4th of the suitcase interior left.  I have crammed as many of the Christmas gifts and books as I can which have been sent to me by family for the kids and I think the only thing of mine in this suitcase is my hairdryer.  That leaves me with a medium-size duffle bag shaped suitcase for my clothes.  Luckily, I'm taking very lightweight tops and it looks like I'll have to be content with just a few pairs of slacks.  On the bright side, once I get all this stuff delivered, I'll have plenty of room to put things I might purchase on my trip for the return home.  It's times like this when I think about one of my favorite action literary characters - Jack Reacher.  One of his trademarks is that he travels all over with only a toothbrush.  Man, I'd like to know his secret.  He sure wouldn't want me for a traveling companion.

What are YOUR Friday Fave Fives?  If you'd like to post your own, go over to Susanne's blog at Living to Tell the Story and read how you can join in the fun.

Toddler-Proof Lift-the-Flap Books

I worked in public libraries before I worked in a college library.  Part of my duties involved time spent in the children's section of those libraries.  One of the first things you realize when you are working with children's books is the fact that "lift-the-flap" books will NEVER come back unscathed.  Whoever invented those types of books had a cute idea.  Children LOVE to lift flaps and discover things underneath those flaps.  However, they also love to tear off those flaps.  It's just inevitable.  So it was no surprise to me when I observed my little granddaughter enthusiastically ripping off the interactive flaps on her little storybooks.

I happened to be working on putting together a fabric book for her sewn from pre-printed fabric story frames.  Hmmm, was there a way to modify the book to indulge her love of lifting flaps while keeping those flaps intact?

 I decided to cut out some felted wool squares and sew them securely over key pictures on the pages.  If you wanted to try this yourself, you could use other fabric such as batik cloth, which is densely woven and not prone to unraveling or a heavy felt.

All you have to do is decide what you want to cover and then cut out your flap big enough to cover the picture you want to hide.  Then sew it securely on the top edge only so that baby can lift up the flap easily.

Here's a little bird hiding under a flap, just waiting to be discovered.  Of course, half the fun is for the reader or child to provide the sound effects of the bird when the flap is lifted.

This little mouse is just waiting to squeak a "hello" when its flap is lifted up.  I'll be taking this little book with me when I go off to visit my granddaughter and I'll be sure to give you a full report on whether or not it passes the "childproof" test.

Revin' It Up!

My brother just purchased an ATV for the hunting land he has up north.  I guess he's had a long-time dream of owning one of these and finally he has one.  So this weekend, he decided that we all were going to take a turn learning how to drive it.

First up was my nephew, John.  He got the 5-second instruction on the controls and off he went.  Handled it just like a pro, too.  I was impressed.  Oh, oh....if he was slowing down then it meant that I was next up.

I headed off around to the front yard, just skirting the drain pipe and the flag pole, around to the other side of the front yard and then headed back off to the back yard.

By my second circuit around the backyard, I was whizzing and having a ball.  Whee!  I have to admit that it was a lot of fun.

It was the Commander's turn next and he took the "responsible" approach, driving sensibly and responsibly but even so, I could tell that he was enjoying himself, too.

My sister-in-law wasn't going to take a turn but we convinced her to have a go at it and off she went after a quick orientation by my brother.

She was a natural at it.  Last up was my brother who went to town, even losing his hat on one turn but by then my fingers were so frozen that I couldn't snap any more pictures even if I'd wanted to (sorry, John!).

And before the ATV was even back in the garage, most of us were back inside the house waiting for the kettle to heat up so we could get some hot tea into us and warm up.  It's always good times when our families get together.  It's a chance to laugh, act like kids again, and make more memories. 

One Man's Junk

My brother has a knack for finding unusual things.  I think it's a gift that our family has -- finding the absurd in this world.  Anyway today he came out into the living room and said, "Hey, you've got to see my latest find."

Oh, boy!  I thought to myself that it was probably going to be something.  I was right.  He disappeared down into the basement and then bounded back up the stairs with a lamp that had the base of a parking meter.  And it was a REAL parking meter.

"Where in the world did you find that?" I asked.

"I saw it sitting in someone's trash along the side of the road up North," he replied.  "There were two of them so my buddy got one and I got one."

"It gets even better," he continued.  "Try holding it."

He set it in my hands and the darn thing was HEAVY!

"Jeepers!" I exclaimed.  "What in the world?  Is it full of coins?"

"Yes," he said.  "I jimmied the back and look at this."  John pried open a little slot in the back and pulled out a container that was filled with coins.

I couldn't believe it.  Someone had thrown away this "gem" of a lamp and it had been filled with money.

"Now," he said, handing me a coin, "put this in one of the coin slots."

I did as directed and darn if the lamp didn't light up.  Wow!  What a conversation piece.  Have friends over and let them feed your lamp.  Make a little money on the side.

"If you put in a nickel, the lamp stays lit for an hour.  Put in a dime and you can have light for 2 hours," he laughed.

And to think that someone threw out a treasure like this!

Looking for a Loop in the Donut Hole

Happy Thanksgiving to All!   On this day when I traditionally overeat, I thought it might be a good time to confess that I have fallen off the donut wagon.  Yes, I had successfully been donut-free for almost 2 years and then, in one wonderful bite (well, maybe MORE than one bite) I undid all that great work.

It's amazing how easy it is to fall right back into an addiction.  My "Waterloo" are glazed white-cream filled donuts.  Just like an alcoholic, you tell yourself that you can manage it....you can eat just one and then go right back to a "no-donut" policy.  Heck, I'm here to tell you that it just isn't so.   One bite leads to two donuts which lead to a week of lunches consisting of 4 donuts at each lunch.  But in my defense, a donut lunch IS a very efficient lunch.  Typically, I am running around like a dervish on the days that I go to visit my mum in the nursing home.  By the time I can eat lunch, it is already 2 p.m.  The last thing I want to do is come home and take the time to fix a healthy lunch.  It's so much easier to swing by the store, grab a bag of donuts and then head home, sit down with a good book and voila!  Twenty minutes of sheer culinary bliss with NO waiting time from the minute I walk in the door.

But I know I have to claw my way back on the wagon if I want to continue my weight loss journey so I've tucked my cream-filled donut demon back into the closet again.  I've been donut free for 5 days now.  Boy, do I miss them.  According to my "rules,"  I can still eat other sugary treats but NOT donuts so there is some light for me as a sugar addict.  Well, time for me to go cube bread for the Thankgiving dinner.  No donuts on the menu today though!

T-Minus Two Weeks and Two Days

I've been a poor blogger lately but I think I might have a pretty good excuse.  You see, I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get ready for my upcoming trip to Indonesia.  The bed in one of our spare bedrooms has become a staging area for things I am setting aside to take with me.  So far, the bulk of the things on this bed are items either sent over from other family members for me to take over or things I'm gathering from a list of items that my family overseas wants me to pick up for them.  Boy, I wish the Commander was going with me.  I could use an extra set of hands.

Since I'll be gone for 5 weeks and missing Christmas and New Years with my family in the States, I've also been trying to get Christmas presents finished before I head out.  This has necessitated turning my other spare bedroom which doubles as a sewing room into a fabric staging area/assembly area.

Fresca the Wonder Dog has gotten used to me spending hours in this room running back and forth between the ironing board and the sewing machine and she now heads straight over to the futon and curls up on it to watch me patiently.

And I'm making progress.  I'm almost finished making my special pillowcases for the family.  Each year I gift family members with pillowcases geared towards a specific hobby or event that holds meaning to them.  It's always fun to try to find fabric that fits each person's personality.

So that's why I've been "hit-or-miss" up here.  Bear with me.  If my son can get his internet working overseas, I promise to be a very regular blogger of my adventures in Asia.  In the meantime, I hear that sewing machine calling my name.

A Closely Guarded Family Recipe

Just returned from a weekend scrapbooking retreat.  My daughter was able to join me for some mother-daughter bonding time over the albums and photos which was awesome.  And I got entirely too little sleep which probably explains why I came down with a migraine on my way home.  Ugh!  Haven't had one of those horrible things in several years.  In fact, I got so rattled that when I got home, I dashed to the medicine cabinet for my migraine medication and grabbed the wrong medicine by mistake.  I didn't realize my error until I had already taken the pill.  What I took was a Boniva, which is for osteoporosis.  It wouldn't have been a biggie since I was overdue on taking my monthly Boniva except for the fact that the Commander was on his way home with lunch for the two of us.  With Boniva, once you take the pill, you aren't to eat anything for one hour.  Drat!  I grabbed the correct medicine and downed that but then noticed that it was past its "Use By" date.  I told you that I hadn't had any migraines in several years and apparently I had failed to get refills when I should.  Luckily the meds worked anyway and I feel better.

Back to the subject of this post.  I had a good chuckle during the retreat.  Our scrapbooking consultant had specifically asked me to bring the same type of cookies that I had baked for a previous scrapbook get-together.  No problem.  I picked up the necessary items and spent most of Thursday and Friday morning baking batches of cookies.

On Saturday, one of the scrapbookers asked me how I was able to bake such delicious cookies.  She said they tasted just like the "cookies you buy in a bakery."  I told her it was no big feat since all I had to do was go to a grocery store and pick up the cookie dough in the dairy case and then break off the little chunks, put them on a cookie sheet, and bake them according to instructions.  She was flabbergasted.  Here folks had been thinking that I was using some secret family recipe when all along I was pumping out these fabulous cookies courtesy of "Uncle Nestle."  That became one of our inside jokes the rest of the weekend as ladies would come up to me to ask for my secret recipe.  Ha!

If you haven't tried the Nestle Toll House Ultimate Chocolate Chip Lovers and Peanut Butter Cups, Chips and Chocolate Chunks refrigerated cookie dough that come in the yellow packages in the dairy case, you might want to try them out.  The dough is already scored into squares to break off and put on your cookie sheets.  Couldn't be simpler but oh, are they tasty.  The Pillsbury Big Deluxe Classics cookie dough in the blue bags are also quite good.  Give them a try.  You might end up with a new "family heirloom" recipe.

So THAT'S How Sardines Feel

This past weekend the ladies' prayer group that I belong to headed off (with spouses) to see the annual Christmas show at the American Music Theatre in Lancaster.  Gas prices being what they are, we thought it was prudent to meet at one location and then carpool to the show.  How I wish I'd thought to bring a movie camera.

Oh, I'm not talking about filming the show.  I would have loved to have had the camera to have filmed us all trying to fit into one van.  There were nine of us and seven were trying to fit into the van.  Two had elected to drive separately.  I was one of the ones who volunteered to sit in the 3-seater section way in the back.  I'm here to tell you that the back seat of a Kia van is NOT meant to seat 3 adults.

I crawled into the back and opted for the middle, in order to give the outer seat to one of our older ladies.  I figured it would be easier for her to slide into that seat.  The fun began when I tried to get myself seatbelted in.  One friend who was already in the back said, "Oh, we won't need seatbelts.  We aren't going to be going anywhere if we get in an accident."

Nope, I ALWAYS wear a seatbelt in a car so we started fumbling around to find the seatbelts.  We decided it would be best to get the first lady belted up before getting the middle person (me) belted.  After much fumbling, shuffling to the left and right, and false starts, I finally got the darn thing to click into the locking mechanism.  I looked at my friend.  Her face was turning purple but I couldn't tell if that was because she was laughing so hard or because the shoulder strap of the belt was tight up under her chin.  You see, she is not very tall but quite chesty and we all could stand to lose some weight.  I unsnapped the belt and we tried again.  After several more tries, we finally got the belt loose enough that it wasn't choking her.

Then it was my turn.  If it had been a good-looking man, it would have been rather thrilling because I was getting goosed plenty as my friend tried to help me get the darn clip into the lock.  We fumbled with it for what seemed like 5 minutes as we laughed like fools and finally I was safely belted in.

That left us with one lady left to go.  She worked her way to the back of the van and looked at the ten inches that we had left for her to squeeze into.  OK, time to do a little shifting and squeezing and then, by golly, she had 12-13 inches now to sit.  She was a good sport and managed to squeeze into the seat.  Finding the seat belt connections was another story.  She just couldn't get the hang of pulling on the shoulder strap in one long, smooth motion.  Instead she would abruptly jerk on it and of course, it would lock up.  We had quite a few false starts before she managed to get it pulled out long enough for me to grab the end and clip it in.  Unfortunately, she hadn't grabbed the slack of the belt over her chest as I was fumbling on the seat so once it was clipped in, she was plastered tight against the back of the seat and looked about as comfortable as a captive tied to a stake.  We unclipped the belt and tried again.  After about 5 tries, she finally understood how to grab that extra length of belt so that she could adjust it comfortably afterwards.

There we were, trussed up tight as sardines in a can and laughing like hyenas.  My hubby stood outside the van just looking at us and shaking his head.

"This isn't going to work," he said.  "Dee, let's take our car, too and then there will just have to be one person in the back of this van and two can sit in the middle."

Another five minutes passed as we extricated ourselves and everyone got rearranged in the proper seats and vehicles.  Sheesh!  It's a good thing we had given ourselves plenty of time to get to the show.  We certainly used up a lot of that leeway just preparing to get on the road.

Did Hell Freeze Over?

OK, I know it's not Spring because my calendar says "November."  I'm pretty darn sure that I'm not pregnant and ready to go into labor so that rules out the extra burst of energy that pregnant women get right before that trip to the hospital.  So I can only conclude that hell must have frozen over.  How else to explain the fact that I got a sudden urge to clean out my pantry closet and my refrigerator?

Before I started, it was a jumbled mess in here.  This pantry is really quite an inefficient pantry because the shelves are so deep.  Sure, you can put a lot of things on the shelves but you just can't see what you have beyond what is in the front of those shelves.  And I'd gotten lazy so had just been throwing things in there and then kind of forgetting what I had.

I went through things and threw out a lot that was long past it's "Use By" date and then set about organizing what was left.  In the process, I was able to take the canned goods that I'd been storing on our table in the kitchen and move them into the pantry.

We don't eat at this table and it really has become just a "catch-all" place.  I had been putting whatever canned goods I was going to be using for the week's menus here on this table.  Plus when we got our gas oven, we lost some storage space in the bottom drawer of the stove so we'd been storing the broiler pan and griddle on this table, too while we tried to figure out where we were going to put it.  Now that I've cleaned out the pantry, I can fit it all in there.

Next stop was the refrigerator.  I had been getting pretty tired of all the containers of leftovers clogging up the fridge.  My method of eating leftovers is to eat it each day until it is gone.  That's not how the Commander does it.  He "contains" it and then forgets it.  So I fix something different each evening.  Plus I was tired of looking at jars of food that had been in there for ages.  I'm telling you, I was ruthless.  I dumped a lot of jars of pickles down that drain....so much so that the vinegar smell was making me choke and my eyes burn.

 I also found some real winners among the "expired" foods.  Here's one that I purchased in April 2008.  Sheesh!  Obviously I wasn't doing much cooking requiring pesto sauce.  I think the winner was a can that had an expiration date in 2007.   It's gone now.

And that's the extent of today's clean-up.  If it is feeling a little cooler out your way, just consider the possibility that perhaps hell really HAS frozen over.