An Announcement
Folks, I have an announcement to make: the Iwashiges are all done moving for a l-o-o-o-o-ong time. Joel and Hilda, can you hear the sigh of relief from over there?
Another reason for relief is the fact that we're being blessed yet again with a lovely rain and cool weather--this after a mild and satisfying day of no rain while moving was taking place. As I write, I'm hearing thunder and hearing persistent rain. I do feel sympathy for those of you who have had a great excess of rain, but that will not keep me from exulting in our great rainy blessing.
The youth fellowship meetings were also underway today, except that, as I hear it, there actually weren't meetings this afternoon and evening. The size of the group has not only been greatly reduced in my lifetime, but the number of sessions also--from 5 to three, by my count. Another big difference is that, earlier, we were all urged to attend. We set up a big tent, improvised outdoor air conditioning with mists from a sprinkler hose upwind from the tent, and cooked for 800 people. Now, we are kindly uninvited unless we have family members in the youth group--because we wouldn't all fit inside the air conditioned building. Can you tell I'm feeling nostalgic?
Tristan was "running with the pack" (Joseph's words) at Joseph and Leanna's house today while his family's belongings were being moved from Abbyville to the farm. When he came "home" after his nap, he looked around with interest at familiar objects in new surroundings, and then got on with the important thing on his mind: "Daddy"--repeated often, while looking for the person he'd become accustomed to finding there when he and Dorcas arrived yet again with supper, so Shane could work on the house through the evening. From his bedroom window he can see the "dow[s], moo," and from the floor he can touch the long chain that controls the light or ceiling fan. Grant used to be able to snag the knob on the end of the chain between his toes to turn if off without getting up from bed.
Besides the Iwashiges, my siblings, Anthony and Linda, helped with moving, along with Trish, Dorcas' lifelong friend, and Shane's co-workers, Marcus (with Becki), and Joseph (with Lawrence).
Our washer--the one that sat unused the whole time we lived at the farm, was scheduled to be moved here today, to replace the one we're using now that has some issues. But someone made an executive decision to trash it instead, because there was a lot of rust, and there was a dead raccoon inside it. What??????? That report is somewhat in doubt. Clare thought it looked more like a pile of moldy white rags. I think that's more logical, although I can't figure out why either one would have been the case. It has sat, unused, in our utility room for quite a few years, with the lid closed, and no foul odors emanating from it. It was, for a short time before then, in the shed, and there raccoons might have been nearby, but the possibility of one having died inside the washer without detection for, lo, these many years seems remote. Shane directed us to Craigslist. I'm happy for the prospect of a "new" washer. I'm thinking maybe it's time to switch to a front-loading machine, but I'm not sure that kind will be likely to be offered on Craigslist.
After one round of mowing since we've moved here, Hiromi was ready to make round two, but there has been massive non-cooperation from the mower. Hiromi tweaked this and that and replaced some parts, but it still wouldn't run. SOS to Grant. He had it figured out in short order. The guy has "mad" skills.
All this rain means the grass, er, miscellaneous yard vegetation, actually grows, so mowing is needed, now that seven weeks or so have passed since the last mowing.
Another reason for relief is the fact that we're being blessed yet again with a lovely rain and cool weather--this after a mild and satisfying day of no rain while moving was taking place. As I write, I'm hearing thunder and hearing persistent rain. I do feel sympathy for those of you who have had a great excess of rain, but that will not keep me from exulting in our great rainy blessing.
The youth fellowship meetings were also underway today, except that, as I hear it, there actually weren't meetings this afternoon and evening. The size of the group has not only been greatly reduced in my lifetime, but the number of sessions also--from 5 to three, by my count. Another big difference is that, earlier, we were all urged to attend. We set up a big tent, improvised outdoor air conditioning with mists from a sprinkler hose upwind from the tent, and cooked for 800 people. Now, we are kindly uninvited unless we have family members in the youth group--because we wouldn't all fit inside the air conditioned building. Can you tell I'm feeling nostalgic?
Tristan was "running with the pack" (Joseph's words) at Joseph and Leanna's house today while his family's belongings were being moved from Abbyville to the farm. When he came "home" after his nap, he looked around with interest at familiar objects in new surroundings, and then got on with the important thing on his mind: "Daddy"--repeated often, while looking for the person he'd become accustomed to finding there when he and Dorcas arrived yet again with supper, so Shane could work on the house through the evening. From his bedroom window he can see the "dow[s], moo," and from the floor he can touch the long chain that controls the light or ceiling fan. Grant used to be able to snag the knob on the end of the chain between his toes to turn if off without getting up from bed.
Besides the Iwashiges, my siblings, Anthony and Linda, helped with moving, along with Trish, Dorcas' lifelong friend, and Shane's co-workers, Marcus (with Becki), and Joseph (with Lawrence).
Our washer--the one that sat unused the whole time we lived at the farm, was scheduled to be moved here today, to replace the one we're using now that has some issues. But someone made an executive decision to trash it instead, because there was a lot of rust, and there was a dead raccoon inside it. What??????? That report is somewhat in doubt. Clare thought it looked more like a pile of moldy white rags. I think that's more logical, although I can't figure out why either one would have been the case. It has sat, unused, in our utility room for quite a few years, with the lid closed, and no foul odors emanating from it. It was, for a short time before then, in the shed, and there raccoons might have been nearby, but the possibility of one having died inside the washer without detection for, lo, these many years seems remote. Shane directed us to Craigslist. I'm happy for the prospect of a "new" washer. I'm thinking maybe it's time to switch to a front-loading machine, but I'm not sure that kind will be likely to be offered on Craigslist.
After one round of mowing since we've moved here, Hiromi was ready to make round two, but there has been massive non-cooperation from the mower. Hiromi tweaked this and that and replaced some parts, but it still wouldn't run. SOS to Grant. He had it figured out in short order. The guy has "mad" skills.
All this rain means the grass, er, miscellaneous yard vegetation, actually grows, so mowing is needed, now that seven weeks or so have passed since the last mowing.
posted by Mrs. I (Miriam Iwashige) at
9:27 PM
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