Seeds

Like the good southern woman I am, I put okra seeds into water this morning to start soaking. I gave up  on the idea of apartment gardening this year. My rosemary, and yes the cactus, are dead, and my kale plant is not far behind. We just don't get enough direct sun in our little apartment.

The thought of a garden-less season saddened me, but I'd let it go. This just wasn't the time for it. Another year.  But, I was reminded last week that my church has garden plots for the community and to fill our food pantry. When I checked, one was still available.

This is my beautiful plot:

It's big. It has soaker hoses already installed. The soil is loose. It has a nice little colony of ladybugs. It's even complete with a volunteer onion (?) right in the middle and some plants that might be lettuce. I weeded it this week, and, while I'm still sore, it felt good to have soil turning over in my fingers again.

It's still a month and a half away from our last freeze (lets not talk about that), but I got the okra started today.

I love watching seeds grow. It amazes me that these tiny seeds turn into fuzzy, mini okras, and then full grown ones, and then into a pile of crispy fried okra on my Sunday lunch plate.

It's magical.

With the start of gardening season spinning through my mind I finally got around to reading the article I'd bookmarked on Suzii Paynter's sermon at the Texas Baptist Women in Ministry conference today. I really like Suzii, and have a lot of respect for her and her work in Texas with the Christian Life Commission (working on everything from trying to end hunger to combating human trafficking). Her words resonated.

Suzii Paynter urged participants at the Texas Baptist Women in Ministry conference to consider lessons from the life of 19th-century abolitionist Sarah Moore Grimke. In a novel by Sue Monk Kidd based on Grimke’s life, The Invention of Wings, the central character prays, “Please God, let this seed you planted in me bear fruit.” Suzii Paynter told women ministers to listen to the voice of God who called them, not the “belittling voices” who tell them what they cannot do. 

“The premise, of course, is that there are seeds of leadership deep in our lives,” Paynter explained. “These seeds bear remembering if they are to bear fruit.”

And, “Accept the unfinished business of your life in ministry. You do not know which imperfect, unfinished parts of your story will be part of God’s golden theme,” Paynter said. “You will never be given a tailor-made calling. But you will grow toward the fullness of your calling if accompanied by Christ.”

I'm going to let these okra seeds soaking up water on my desk be a reminder to look for, nourish, and remember those seeds of calling, seeds of leadership, in me and in others.

{You can (and should) read the whole article here on ABP's website.} 

The Open Arms Of Enough

Once I learned the word "dregs," which I swore I had never heard before, I heard it at least once a day for a month. The same thing has happened with all sorts of vocabulary over the years. The same thing has happened with enough.

Once you start meditating on something, start looking for it, you see it everywhere.

I came across an article by Sarah Bessey, here, and this idea of enough was right there, front and center. She says,

For those of us who have been told that we are too much—too loud, too opinionated, too smart, too bold, too quiet, too curvy, too skinny, too sexual, too intense, too feeling, too soft, too tough, too bossy, too tender, too young, too old, too liberal, too conservative—may we say: you belong here with us. 

May we be the women who make room for the too-much among us.  

For those of us who have been told that we are not enough—not smart enough, not ambitious enough, not good enough, not spiritual enough, not rich enough, not enough wife, not enough mother, not enough friend, not enough woman, not strong enough, not educated enough, not experienced enough—may we say: you belong here with us.  

May we be the women who make room for the not-enough among us.

(May we be the men too.)

That's the great, inclusive thing about enough. It's for both the too-much and the too-little. Enough is the grace to accept what is, and it's the courage to hear that who we are is ok. Not just that, enough is the quiet space to hear divine whisper, you are good.

I'm starting to understand that seeing enough is a form of hospitality. Enough invites the too much and the too little in me to dine at the same table as the too much and too little in you. When we are open to seeing enough in ourselves and to seeing enough in others, we don't have to edit or to strive or to judge.

We just pass the chicken or pour another cup of tea. We nod and say, me too.

13 Days In: Reflections on Lent

When I was growing up I never associated Lent with much more than fish sandwiches in school lunches on Fridays. My Catholic friends sometimes gave up sweets or something similar, but I never understood why. Growing up Baptist in a small church in Texas did not expose me to very many liturgical traditions.

Through reading more widely, traveling, and making friends with deeply spiritual people of different traditions, I've come to appreciate and love many of the more liturgical traditions. Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent have become full of meaning to me and important markers in my spiritual journey.

For years now I have been attending Ash Wednesday services, usually at Episcopal churches around whatever town I happen to be in (after years of moving services at Abilene's Episcopal Church of the Heavenly Rest) and this year at my large Baptist church in the suburbs. As the priest or pastor or whomever places ashes on your forehead in the shape of the cross, ashes from last year's palm Sunday palms, they remind you that you are dust, and to dust you will return.

It's a call to repentance. It's a visible sign to remind you of your place. It's a call inward.

Those of you who know me well know that I love to set goals and resolutions. Lent for me is sometimes a do over for New Year's resolutions--a time to refocus on them without the clutter of holiday hangovers. Usually it's a time to go deeper, though. Lent is a time to remove something from your life that you don't plan to take back up (at least not in the same way) after Easter. Or, it's a time to focus on a discipline or habit that can become a part of your life from Easter onward.

My Lenten journeys have taken me different places. I've found the thing I decide to give up or take on is usually much more difficult than I planned. I "gave up" grudges one season in an effort to embrace forgiveness more wholeheartedly, and honestly, for the first time. It turns out that grudges are the kinds of things that are much more pervasive than I realized. When you start looking for things you find them.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to focus on this year for Lent. I was at least a week late in deciding on New Year's resolutions this year, and, with Ash Wednesday sneaking up on me, I was afraid the same would be true of a Lenten discipline this year. One of the things I love about the liturgical seasons is that they force me to confront things that I would continually put off without a deadline of sorts. So, I made some space and gave it some thought.

As I thought through what I am struggling with, what is holding me back, and who I want to be after Easter, I realized that I'd been talking about enough a lot lately. Enough is the opposite of scarcity. And the thought and fear of scarcity, of not enough, has permeated just about everywhere we turn without us even realizing it.

So this year, my Lenten journey is about meditating on enough. About having enough things, enough money, enough time. About being enough. About giving enough. About others being and giving enough. About others not having enough. I'm not sure how this will play out by Easter, but this meditation is already taking me deeper and in directions I did not anticipate.

So, for those who have never participated in Lent in a meaningful way, or for those who didn't get around to inviting the Lenten season into their awareness this year, I give you permission to start now. We are only 13 days in. (Easter is still almost 5 weeks away.)

Here are some ideas for Lent if you are looking for something to get you started, more explanation or to spur on some ideas: 40 Ideas for Lent 2014, by Rachel Held Evens

[Also, if you are taking on or giving something up this year, I'd love to hear about what you are focusing on.]

Connections and Habbits

I've spent a long time away from the blog, and it has been good for me. I went from a year of intensity to a season of searching and stillness (and back again through mini versions of the two). I feel like life swings between times when you want to share and between times when you want to snuggle your stories and your triumphs and your struggles deep inside you while you ponder what they mean.

I think that's good.

Yet, as another long Denver winter starts to turn to spring, I find myself with a surge of information in my brain. I am a collector of information and random tidbits. I love those Did you know... pieces of information. I love those lines of books or overheard conversations that make me pull my notebook out of my purse and write them down. I have been reading constantly, listening to new podcasts each week, and having meaningful conversations with fascinating people over the last couple of months. As all these bits roll around my brain, I have sensed connections.

I've been feeling this strong need to make these connections and to put them down in a way that is a bit more permanent than the orbit of random thoughts in my mind these days. I seem to keep having conversations with folks who have been trying to make these same elusive connections, too. So, I figure, let's just open this journey up.

I'm also looking for a way to make my writing more of a habit. Maybe the blog is familiar place for me to stretch that writing muscle. And, in the stretching of that muscle, maybe the connections–the stories, the triumphs and struggles, the podcasts and passages, the conversations–will cement themselves together in a more meaningful way.

Spring is stretching and seed planting season after all. 

Old Friends

I've spent a lot of time since USC ended catching up with old friends. Some of those old friends are poems. Here are two, one in English and one in Spanish:

Wild Geese

By Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Caminante, No Hay Camino

Antonio Machado

Todo pasa y todo queda,

pero lo nuestro es pasar,

pasar haciendo caminos,

caminos sobre el mar.

Nunca persequí la gloria,

ni dejar en la memoria

de los hombres mi canción;

yo amo los mundos sutiles,

ingrávidos y gentiles,

como pompas de jabón.

Me gusta verlos pintarse

de sol y grana, volar

bajo el cielo azul, temblar

súbitamente y quebrarse…

Nunca perseguí la gloria.

Caminante, son tus huellas

el camino y nada más;

caminante, no hay camino,

se hace camino al andar.

Al andar se hace camino

y al volver la vista atrás

se ve la senda que nunca

se ha de volver a pisar.

Caminante no hay camino

sino estelas en la mar…

Hace algún tiempo en ese lugar

donde hoy los bosques se visten de espinos

se oyó la voz de un poeta gritar

“Caminante no hay camino,

se hace camino al andar…”

Golpe a golpe, verso a verso…

Murió el poeta lejos del hogar.

Le cubre el polvo de un país vecino.

Al alejarse le vieron llorar.

“Caminante no hay camino,

se hace camino al andar…”

Golpe a golpe, verso a verso…

Cuando el jilguero no puede cantar.

Cuando el poeta es un peregrino,

cuando de nada nos sirve rezar.

“Caminante no hay camino,

se hace camino al andar…”

Golpe a golpe, verso a verso.

Lessons Learned

The metaphor which I feels works out best for what my experience has been like living, working and serving in downtown Denver is a pressure cooker. Pressure cooking is an intense, and sometimes dangerous, way to get things done. And, by the end of my year, my meat was surely falling off the bone.

I realized, though, a more productive way to think of it was that lessons were falling off the bone. Lessons, even when costly, can validate just about any experience for me. I knew I'd learned a lot, but I sat myself down and wrote some of the lessons from this last year down. It was a good way to process and validate (and laugh at) the year. 

So, without further ado, here's the slightly edited, and not nearly comprehensive, list. I'm sure I'll be adding to it for years to come:  

What I’ve learned:

· Patience (And that it is both hard earned and given as a gift)

· Expiration dates are very subjective

· About addictions—to substances, to people, to control… 

· Church politics, and of the toxicity which becomes easily involved

· The realities of homelessness 

· Leadership is imperative

· As is a grounded vision (for an organization, for an individual, for a church)

· How to walk through snow and ice (and not bust too often) 

· How to have no control, and not be out of control

· The work to decide on and find self-identity is not work wasted

· How to pour candles

· The importance of feeling safe

· Basics of drug use and the effects of different drugs

· How to make lip balm, lotion bars and soap

· The names of native Coloradan flowers

· The very basics of gardening—and that weeding is cheap therapy

· Burning candles can up the temperature in your room by 2-3 degrees

· Enough random facts about beekeeping and worm farming to sound cultured

· Sometimes the very best thing you can do for someone is make them a cup of tea and listen

· It’s very economical to buy wine in boxed form

· 88 is not as old as you think it is

· Routine smoke/”sunshine” breaks with people 40 years older than you can restore your sanity

· If people refuse the “peace” you offer them, shake the dust off your sandals and move on

· There’s no “fixing” people

· Hospitality is a state of mind

· Ancient mystic Islamic poets can change your life

· Boundaries and learning to say no will give you freedom

· Composting, and that watching the steam rise off of healthy compost on a winter evening is magical

· Being aware of your expectations and that others may have different ones can make all the difference

· Creative work is good for the soul

· Even when you think you shouldn’t have to, ask for what you need

· Be as patient with yourself as you are with others

· How to balance trays and bus tables for 1,000 plus guests

· That a handful of corny jokes will serve you well in many situations

· That not all situations are well suited for “niceness”

· How to break up fights, kick people out and be a bouncer

· That sometimes, breaking up a fight will earn you a best friend

· Mental illness is real and rampant

· The simple act of learning and remembering names can restore personhood

· People are remarkably resilient

· That some of us need to speak up more, and some of us need to shut our mouths every once in a while

· “Follow through” is the key to engagement (and the inverse is true as well)

· People often just want to tell their story and be heard

· It’s ok to cry with strangers

· How to consistently make meals for 10 out of leftovers and expired goods

· Gummy vitamins are not just for children

· Living no more than 2 degrees of separation from the entire homeless population of Denver will be a bit much for your immune system

· Sometimes, you just have to turn off the ringer

· You can live off of less money and with less possessions than you think you can…no matter how little you already have

· Never seeing the sun will make you sad

· Succulent plants are surprisingly not very difficult to kill

· In a pinch you can use electrical cords yanked from the wall to resuscitate someone

· The full moon makes people crazy. Don’t try to understand it, just plan accordingly

· The realities of SS, SSDI, AND and the patterns they create

· Vulnerability is courageous work 

· Gratitude is the gateway to joy and sanity 

The Guesthouse

I've read it at least 10 times this week, 8 or more times out loud for "reflection" at work this week, and I'm still not tired of it. The Guesthouse was a reflection from my first month at work, and it's stuck with me all year. I've had a copy of it on the magnetic board near my desk at home. I read it when one of my housemates was struggling with alcoholism. I read it on some of those Thursdays where I ended my work day with tears--sometimes from pure exhaustion, sometimes from the weight of the stories.  But also, I read it when I brought home a pink rose I picked off the back of a wall on the walk home. Just a couple weeks ago I read it when someone I knew was found a couple days dead in her apartment. 

The Guesthouse is the story of my year. A year of heartbreak after triumph after heartbreak. A year where often hospitality was all I had to give--and where sometimes giving that hospitality took all I had. But, I'm learning, that's what this being human is all about. So, on the eve of my last day, here it is once more: 

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(By Rumi)

What Do Chamomile Tea, Spinach Containers, Toilet Paper Rolls and Mason Jars Have in Common?

What do these things have in common? Well, they are all a part of my improvised, gleaned from Pinterest and work, what-can-I-dig-out-of-the-recycling method of gardening. 

Yes, gardening. 

It's true, I have trouble keeping house plants alive (even when those house plants are cacti and succulents...). But gardening has intrigued me for a while. Last year when I had considerably more time and space on my hands (and a much warmer climate!) I was thinking about, and even planning, a garden. Then, of course, I decided to go on an extended trip to Thailand and Laos with a friend during planting season, and that was that. 

This year, trying to escape a winter that won't end (more snow coming this week!), and working at a place that espouses the many benefits of urban gardening, I decided I'm going to give it a go. 

I signed up to receive free seeds and transplants from an organization called Denver Urban Gardens. At EarthLinks we collected the applications for our participants and dropped them off for them. Since I was the one to drop them off, I just filled one out myself. I mostly asked for transplants (thinking if the plants were already in adolescence when I got them I would have a better chance of keeping them alive). I was surprised though at what seeds I had ordered when I went back a couple months later to pick them up: 

Kale, cantaloup, and lettuce. Kind of random, but whatever. Making stuff up as I went along I decided to imbibe my seeds. (Not with alcohol mind you.) My supervisor had passed along an article about a gardener who tried soaking his seeds for a day or so and how they grew a lot faster. I figured, why not?

I poured half the packets into some random jars I had on my shelves. I planned on planting them the next day...but didn't get around to it. In my memory the article had said to soak them for 3-5 days. After  a couple of days I reread the article and realized, no, they said 12-24 hours. Oops. I figured I better get some stuff and get them planted soon...

After church I wandered around Lowes looking lost for organic potting soil and seed starting mix. I finally found what I hoped was the right stuff and hauled it out to my car, quite proud of myself (for no reason really). Then, I waited a couple more days...Finally on what seemed an appropriate evening (by which I mean there was a blizzard blowing outside), I sat at my desk in my pajamas with the spoon from my coffee cup, some toilet paper rolls, and the soil and got to work planting. 

At work participants usually carefully place three seeds in a triangle formation 1/4 of an inch into the dirt with tweezers (or something like that). My wet seeds were clumpy (and I soaked way too many) (seriously, how many kale plants was I going for?) so I just kinda spooned them in here and there. 

Making it up as we go along, folks.

The seeds all planted and cosy in their spinach container green house!

Then miracle of miracles, 2 and a half days later: 

A baby lettuce plant!

I really couldn't believe it! They were sprouting already. Two rows of happy little plants. It's so amazing and surprising that I keep forcing David and housemates (and anyone else I have any kind of sway over) to come look at them every day or so. It feels like magic. 

This is my little set up in the sun in one of our front rooms. I water them with a mason jar with holes punched in the top. I had seen someone water the seedlings at work this way--and seriously, it's mesmerizing how the water falls out of there in little lines as you shake it. I've also got a couple of tulips that were free give-aways, and a mason jar full of camomile tea. Apparently you can treat your seedlings for root rot (?) or something moldy sounding, by spraying them with camomile tea. I don't really understand that, but, again, why not? I couldn't find a spray bottle so I just squeeze the tea bag over the seedlings and sprinkle it on there. Good enough for me. 

Look at them go! I even have two little kale plants coming up now. Who knows what those cantaloupe seeds are doing under the soil (but honestly I didn't have much hope for them from the beginning). I did open my seeds the other day to find lots of fuzzy mold growing on the side of the TP rolls though. Hopefully that's not too bad of a thing. I've been leaving the lid off and giving them a good dose of chamomile--so we will see. Who knows how this experiment will turn out!

I have another batch of seedlings soaking in water (...for probably about a week now...): okra and bluebonnet seeds. It's my Texas batch. I'll hopefully get them in soil by the end of the weekend. But, we will see...

Anyway, that's my new little project. I felt a little hesitant about it in the beginning, but then I decided, hey if I kill them all--it's ok. Gotta take some risks, right? Even if it's just with free seeds. 

Finally, this week in workshop we used a TED talk for our "reflection" time. It's got me even more jazzed for gardening. We all enjoyed it, so I'll share it here too: 

Week In Review: Denver! Pt. 3

It's Saturday and I have a few moments of downtime (both small miracles!) which mean one thing: It's time for the Week In Review! (And, yeah, it's been two weeks again, but who's counting?)

• The most exciting thing that happened last week was that all of us USC volunteers were scheduled for a retreat in the mountains. It might surprise you to hear it, but...we were not excited. It was going to include a 3 hour drive (which turned into 4), meant leaving at 8am, and even though it included taking Friday off work, we were sure it would include non-stop programing from our directors. 
• We grumpily packed our bags, got in our cars and proceeded to have a wonderful, relaxing weekend. 
• It was beautiful! This Texas girl still gets very amazed by the mountains. Aspen trees are also turning into my very favorite trees. 
• The only downfall of the retreat was the fact that one of our fellow volunteers got sick during the first night. Poor her, we thought. 
• We came home and, one after the other, all got sick. 9 out of the 10 of my housemates (myself very much included) got the stomach flu. 
• I continue to love my new room. I'll try to remember to take a couple of pictures sometime (now that I finally have pictures hung up!). 
• I have an entire wall of bookshelves--which normally would make me swoon. I still like them, but it also makes me a bit sad because I got rid of, gave away or packed up all but about 20 books. 
• The weather here has been very bi-polar. Everyone told me that it would get hot/cold/hot/cold here, but I wasn't expecting all of those things to happen during the same day. It's also true that the sun is very hot here--even when it's cold out, if you find a spot of sun to stand in, you'll be ok. 
• Many afternoons around the church office it is just the secretary, the sexton (janitor/groundskeeper) and myself. They are both at least 40 years my senior, but the bright spot in some of my afternoons is when the three of us all sit on the same bench in our courtyard taking a smoke, coffee, and sun break (respectively). 
• Friday afternoon, when I was hoping to catch up on office work at the church, my plans were distracted by a good ol' fashioned chickin' pickin' party. A group of Methodist women wanted to come by and help prepare food for our Monday feedings. Several tons of chicken had been cooked previously in the week and these women came by to pick it all off the bone and chop it up. Somehow they even pulled our famously grumpy music minister out of his office to play old hymns while we worked. 
• I finally got to see Stacey and Brad this week for the first time since my move in day. David and I went over for dinner--and it's amazing how quiet and homey it feels to eat dinner with only 3 other people after a couple of months in my house. It's also so fun to have old friends in town--especially when they are as hilarious as these two. 
• November is coming! Who knows what that means? I'm getting ready to get my NaNoWriMo on!

OK, pictures--mostly from the retreat:

A shot from the drive up. It rained on us most of the drive through the mountains, which had me a bit stressed, but, when the clouds rolled out, it was beautiful. 

Right before this we saw two elk (?). One of which ran in front of a truck then clothes-lined itself on a fence wire. Ouff. 

Rainbow Trail Lutheran Encampment

Unlimited hot tea, a porch swing, Aspens and a view of the mountains--It was a good moment

I stayed a optional second night. That meant I had Saturday evening and all of Sunday to do with as I pleased. I took a solitary walk..

found a stream...

and an Aspen grove...

found a chair...

And actually read (imagine that!) for a while. I get so little time to read anymore (or,  you know, would just always rather sleep) that I gave up on the novel I was reading in favor of rereading some of my favorite short stories. 

Sunday was a completely beautiful day. I soaked up some sunshine...

read Phillipians by a noisy stream...

And then walked a labryinth (which I had been wanting to do for a while now!). 

A beautiful weekend! Even if it did get us all sick...! : )

Week In Review! Denver Pt. 2!

It's been another two weeks in Denver--and they have been jam packed. Jam packed with adventure, heartbreak, meetings and, as of the last two days, snow! So, here we go--the week (ok, it's been two) in review!

• Remember how I had a horrible tree mural and Cookie Monster blue shag carpet in my walk-in closet sized room? Not anymore. One of my housemates had a massive room and didn't like it. So, we switched! Now we are both happy campers. (And, she painted the mural and psychedelic dresser within 48 hours of being in there. She's got way more energy than me!)
• I continue to love my jobs. The stories I hear though, at my afternoon job especially, continue to break my heart. We had a guy in who couldn't come up with the three dollars he needed for the copay on his heart medications. He'd gone without for two weeks before he found us and came in. (He said it might as well have been three million dollars because he couldn't come up with it on his own either way...) There was another guy who had recently become homeless and because of all the rain had found shelter for the last few nights night...in a port-a-potty. 
• Fall was beautiful for a few days. Then, after an 81 degree day, winter rolled in. Friday I woke up to snow. Flurries have been falling on and off since. (Brrr!!)
• UnderArmor cold weather socks continue to be my best cold weather friends. 
• As much as I love my jobs, I love the weekends even more. Last weekend David had cooked up some kind of a surprise. It had been on my calendar for a month, but I still didn't know what it was going to entail until I arrived at his house last Saturday. We drove out to a state park in the foothills, had a picnic lunch and then went horseback riding! I did not see that coming! David later had a lesson to teach up in what is the beginnings of the mountains, so we headed up there, had some coffee, and spent the evening there. While he was working I had a walk around town and wrote some postcards. It was absolutely what I needed to get me through the next crazy week. 
• Last Saturday eased some of the restlessness bubbling up in me. Horse back riding somehow reminded me of Moroccan camel rides (except way more comfortable!) and the little mountain town was giving me flashbacks to both Boquete, Panama and the mountains of Cyprus. Sunset walks and postcards just set the travel mood even more. 
• This weekend we took things in a completely different direction. We found a free jazz concert with a famous local band playing at a Methodist church down in Littleton. We thought it might be fun. (And, since it was free we were more than willing to take the gamble!) We walked in through snow flurries to find A) warmth (both of our houses and both of my jobs are so cold!), B) lots of old people (there were about 125 people in there. I think we were the only ones who weren't grey headed), and C) lots of fantastically ugly sweaters. The whole evening was great fun. The band was good, and really got rolling at the end--and the old folks were loving it. Orthopedic shoes were tapping all over the place. The grandma in front of us was especially getting down. 
• Two separate couples stopped to tell us that we did not old enough to be there--which just tickled us even more. 

Some pictures from the last couple weeks:  

I remembered to take a picture of our house. 10 of us live here and there are also offices for our directors. 

Horses!

Stables in the foothills. We weren't that far away from town or a freeway, but it still felt like we were in the middle of Wyoming. 

I did not fall off! : )

Our horses: Sky (David's) and Shy (mine). Not really sure why mine was named Shy. It certainly was not shy about stopping to eat, pooping at will or passing gas when others were near. 

It was a beautiful area. 

Up in Evergreen. (Seriously, it reminded me of both Boquete (remember?) and the Troodos Mounains (see here)).

Some fall trees

And sunset walks

Back in the work week, I decided half way through Monday (that had already involved staff meetings and inventorying more than 500 vases and other random things we sell) that in order to make it through feeding 1000 people spaghetti and then through an additional 4 hours of afterwork Urban Servant Corps programing I would need a boost. I made a lunch time stop at Starbucks while switching buses downtown. 

It was a good call because I found plenty of messages waiting for me when I got to my afternoon work site...

There's a saying that there's only two things in life that money can't buy: Love and homegrown tomatoes. I'm obviously a very lucky girl to have both. 

Friday morning at the bus stop!

The snow was beautiful...even if it had me worried that it was getting so cold already.

Totally

And finally, this evening even my Under Armor socks weren't quite cutting it. It was time to bust out my socks knitted by a Bosnian nana. David brought them back for me this summer and I've been waiting to rock them ever since. 

Greetings From Denver

Hello from the Mile High City! My, my, it's been a while, no? Quite honestly, it's been a while since I have been able to catch my breath. Life has been rolling along at full speed for the last month. I've moved to a new city, to a new house, acquired nine (yes, nine) new housemates, started breaking in two separate jobs in new fields, and...a million other things it seems.

As of tomorrow I will have been in Denver for a whole month. That's hard to believe mostly because it feels like it must have been at least 6 months.

In the midst of all this craziness I have been using just about every milligram of free time to sleep or silently stare at a wall to try to regain some strength. I've been doing a horrible job at keeping in touch with everyone, so, well, here we have it--a new blog! It's a bit impersonal, but I don't see myself having time for all the phone calls I'm behind on anytime soon. I'll see what I can do with reviving the Week in Review bit, but for now I'll throw in some tidbits from the past month. I haven't been doing a great job of taking pictures either (and they're all from my phone), but I'll share what I have. (Feel free to throw out questions in the comments if you're curious about anything.)

OK, a month in Denver in review!:

• My house is massive and laid out like a maze. I still forget where the stairs are that go up to the third floor sometimes. I think there are probably some secret passages lingering behind boxes in our basement. 
• A large chunk of my housemates are from the midwest. I'm already afraid of the things I'm going to start saying or how it will affect my accent. Hot dish anyone?
• Friday I learned how to harvest worms and how to put together a worm bin at work. (These are one of the gardening items we sell.) It's probably just as gross as you are imagining it.
• In the mornings I work at an organization called Earthlinks. If you want to learn a little more check it out here: Earthlinks-Colorado.org (You can also click over to the staff page to see their newest staff member!)
• In an effort to live a more sustainable life, to be in solidarity with the poor, and because, well, I am poor, I take the bus or walk everywhere I can. I take the bus in the morning half way to work and walk the rest of the way. At lunch I take two buses and walk a little bit to get to my second job, then I walk home at the end of the day. My attitude might change once it gets cold, but I love these times during the day. My morning walk is peaceful and full of gardens and snapshots of the skyscrapers and mountains. The bustle of downtown Denver at lunch hour is energizing. The walk home is stress relieving. 
• I've seen quite the characters on the bus, too. Sometimes these characters are people I know from work, so we chat for a while. (It's a nice feeling of connectedness.)
• Bus 44 frequently tries to ruin my day. 
• The weather has been fantastic. It got a bit cold for a day or two (high 40s in the morning/evening), but has been sunny and hovering in the 70s for the most part. 
• The sun really does shine constantly here. (Cue Ben Harper's She's Only Happy In the Sun)
• My room in the house came complete with a horrible painted mural. Since the room is pretty tiny it was dominating things. I don't have anywhere enough energy to paint the wall, so I got in a problem-solving mood and tacked up king sized sheets. Not beautiful, but satisfactory. 
• I have seen more rotten food in the last 3 weeks than in the rest of my life combined. (We get a lot of "day old" type donations at the house, and at Earthlinks we get food off a truck that comes by with expired or wilting food the grocery stores threw out. On top of that, many of us get random things from our worksites that they can't give out to their clients anymore (yes, we happily take the things they can't even give away to homeless people!). We try to use all this food on it's last leg, but, I'll be honest: a lot of it get's composted.)
• After this year, I will have cured myself of any desire to ever eat a bagel again. (Matter of fact, I'm pretty much there now.)
• We've actually been eating quite well. We rotate so that 2 different people out of the 10 of us cook and clean each weeknight. There's been a slight learning curve, but I'm pretty impressed with a lot of what we have come up with. 
• One of the perks I love about my afternoon job at the church is that I have an office. A real, downtown office. 
• I'm developing a healthy fear of the answering machine at work with all the sad and desperate stories I find there daily. 
• Monday afternoons at the church are exhausting--but the good kind of exhausting. The kind of exhausting where weekly we feed about 1,200 people in 4 hours. 
• Living between downtown and the huge city park is a great location with a lot of energy. It's also nice to head out to the foothills to the suburb where David lives once a week or so. It's amazing how much different it feels. 
• Actually, every 4 blocks or so Denver feels like a very different city. 

OK, that's plenty of bullet points. Some pictures to finish things up: 

My, um, interesting, whole wall, multilingual mural. Complete with mirrored flowers. Yeah. 

My solution. 

Our first day of work dinner. I helped cook this meal that turned out to be a bit overzealous, but delicious. (Seriously, cooking for 10 people mostly from scratch (because that's cheapest) can turn out to be like cooking a Thanksgiving-esque meal every night.)

Work in the morning

My afternoon office!

After a particularly long and heavy day (and week) I spotted this guy on the back of a wall. I figured no one was looking at it anyway, so I might as well take it...

During our first week or so of orientation we were subsisting on basically nothing but carbs: bagels, rice, pasta, bread.  We hadn't yet received our weekly batch of produce from the farmers market that gives us their unsellables, and we were longing for pretty much anything that came from the ground. That day our generally kind and well meaning director showed up at lunch with a peach. A peach that she ate in front of all of us. Waved it around a bit as she talked. (Oh man, we were all experiencing a range of emotions that were not the most generous!) After relaying this story to David, he showed up later with...giant peaches! Best. Peach. Ever.  

We also found a park throwing an end of summer festival--complete with a hot air balloon "glow" and fireworks. All for free! (It's true. We make poor look exciting.)

And finally, some shots from my morning commute:

Somebody forgot a few important things at the bus stop...

I'm not sure why, but I love this building.

My morning worksite is in a bit of an industrial area that is full of interesting artwork. 

Waiting for good ol' bus 15 (hotbed for interesting and/or homeless people) downtown at lunch. 

The End.