Is Saul also among the prophets?

So it became a proverb, rather like the one coined on the spot by Bilbo: Never laugh at live dragons. It's so interesting to read about the origins of aphorisms! So we're reading aloud through the Old Testament together every night, and last night we were reading 1st Samuel, I forget which chapter, about the anointing of Saul. Samuel (to Saul): 'Go up to this mountain, where you will meet a man carrying three kids...' Michael: 'Hmm, must've been a homeschool dad.'

We are glad to report that the travelers made it to our house safely last night, and way ahead of schedule. We made popcorn and lost Clue to Michael.

For a time, and times, and half a time

Michael and I have been reading through the New Testament together (we're reading the same chapters each day but on our own) and we are now in the middle of that most fascinating and inscrutable book, Revelation. Yesterday I noticed that in the list of those sealed from each tribe, Dan is conspicuously absent. Hmmm. I wonder why this is. It took me a little while to puzzle it out: seeing both Joseph and Manasses listed clued me in that something was different, but I had to turn back to Genesis and read the genealogy to figure it out. And what on earth did the voice speaking as seven thunders say? Apparently John heard it clearly enough and understood it, and then the angel went and told him not to write it down! Very curious.

Well, this puts the butter on the spinach

Stephanie was here visiting this weekend. We had a fun time and watched practically an entire season of A&E's Jeeves and Wooster. Delightfully funny. This is the third time through for me, second for Michael, and I can't get enough of the British slang.

Stephanie drove in on Friday night, and we went down to the church for an ice cream social and movie (Cheaper By The Dozen, the re-make. Nothing like the book. Of course not.) Saturday we slept in, had a big breakfast, lay around and talked and watched movies, and went downtown for dinner at her favourite, Casa Grande. Sunday we went to church, fixed our (current) favourite southern meal of fried fish, creamed corn, and fried green tomatoes. More Bertie and Jeeves. Then we somehow got started on a game of Lord of the Rings Risk, which is nothing like the original, in that I managed to win against Michael. This is very different from the only other time I've ever played Risk, in which case everyone resoundingly lost to Michael. It was a fun weekend, all around.

It's funny how my dreams in a shallow state of sleep seem so much more easily influenced by my current state of mind than deep night sleep. I base this observation on the fact that I seem so easily to control my actions when taking an afternoon nap. This fact is brought to my attention by the occasion of my taking a nap yesterday afternoon, and realising that practically every one of my afternoon nap dreams involves eating ice cream.

Back in the land of the living

Spent the last two days working in the warehouse here. They believe in having all new employees spend some time in the warehouse so we gain a new appreciation for the whole process and understand what goes into placing and shipping the orders. It wasn't exactly an eye-opening experience, as I've worked in the pick-packing line before and already had a full appreciation for the value of hard manual labour and the importance of paying attention to details, but it must have been good for me in a moral sense to experience the honest toil - 'hewing the wood and drawing the old wet stuff.' It was very hot and it makes me appreciate all the more the rather tenuous a/c we have up front in the office - try unloading pallets in the upper level of the warehouse without any a/c whatsoever and you'll not complain any more of the flickering coolness.

It was also hard not to have a computer.

A good man is hard to find...

And Michael is unquestionably the best man in the world, at least according to my estimation. Which, for us, is all that counts.
 
On Saturday, of course, I was tired and weary from coming in to work a half day instead of sleeping in. On the way home I went shopping and found nothing. Thus I was thoroughly demoralised when Michael called to say that he was on the way home from the War Room. Trying not to sound plaintive [whiny], I told him my troubles. Now, see, the classic male/female communication breakdown is that women tend to talk simply to talk or create an emotional connection whereas men tend to talk to solve problems. I've never favoured this method. I'm not a fan of therapeutic talking. But if ever by chance I do fall into this, Michael is always ready to lend a sympathetic ear. This time he both made me feel better and solved my problems. 'Never mind about the baking. It can wait. Don't worry about the dishes - I'll load up the dishwasher for you. I'm on my way home and we'll both go in to get the oil changed together, and then we'll go shopping and find you some clothes.' Wow! What a man! That brightened my mood! But it doesn't stop there. The saga of Michael's wonderfulness continues. We went out shopping and found several things, and all was happiness and cheer. But there was this one top that I liked excessively but decided on the side of prudence. 'Do I really need this? I already have two purple tops....better not.' Then on Sunday I voiced my wistful regret at having passed it up. 'I'm having second thoughts about that purple top,' I announced to Michael. 'I really wanted it, after all. What was I thinking? The two purple tops I have now are casual tops! I really need that shimmery purple number! Oh, well. Spilt milk.' Case closed. Or so I thought.
 
Yesterday he came home from work and handed me a bag containing the purple top. He had stopped on his way home from work and bought it for me! I just think he's the coolest guy in the world.
 
We watched An American in Paris last night. I've always wanted to see it. It was very well done, with incredible dance numbers, clever song lyrics, and the witty repartee so characteristic of classic movies. But the ending was decidedly unsatisfactory.

Weekends should come around twice as often

This one wasn't nearly long enough. *yawn*
 
Last night we watched Wait Until Dark. What a movie! Michael picked it out, at my extreme uncertainty, because I didn't think a movie starring Audrey Hepburn as a blind woman could be any good. How depressing could that be?! Anyway, it was extremely suspenseful and very well made. Not a good movie for anyone afraid of the dark, though! And just when I was getting over my fear of aliens lurking in dark recesses of the hallways, too.

Home of the Braves

Last night went to a Braves game. Eleven months I've lived in Georgia and I had not yet been to a Braves game (or Braved game, as I misspelt it in my diary. Yikes! How is it that computers so infiltrate my Real Life? I find myself making common typing errors in my handwriting!) It was terribly exciting. Even if I didn't love baseball, I would have enjoyed it. It reminded me of the only other live professional sports event I've ever attended, when David and Amy took us all out to watch the Chicago Bulls play the New York Knicks in '88. At the time I didn't understand all the rules about basketball (in fact I don't know much more about it now than I did then) but it was extremely exciting, with the music blaring, the fans cheering, the action riveting, and the announcers hyping the crowd just right. Just so last night. I'm not usually given to exaggerated displays of emotion in public, but it was intensely easy to fall under the spell of the adrenaline pump. I even thought to myself, 'This is a set-up. They are deliberately pumping the crowd to make sure that everyone feels happy and excited and believing that they're having a good time. This is nothing more than powerfully suggestive emotional manipulation.' But it was so well done! When the loudspeakers blared with the cavalry music, it was the most natural thing in the world to shout 'Charge!' at the batter. When a giant wave got started around the stadium (Turner Field is supposedly one of the best places to create a wave effect) it was such fun to stand up and fling one's arms into the air and cheer. And then there's this giant tom-tom drum that starts beating every time there's a need for a tense moment, and the crowd starts doing the Tomahawk Chop with the right hand - very exciting to watch. Wow! So we lost. It was an incredible experience anyway. I must go back soon. But, as the Apostle Paul said, I must also see Rome.

Vive la France

Yesterday was Bastille Day, which I used to notice with much greater attention than I do now, apparently, as I forgot it completely until now. And exactly two years ago today Leah and I set off for Old Blighty! Hard to believe that that glorious expedition across the pond has been two years ago now.

The week after I came back I passed Geoff Edling in the hall at work. 'Did Rose meet a man in England?' he asked. 'No!' I said, blushing. 'Why?' 'Oh, I thought something had happened. You're absolutely beaming - you're glowing!' Well, obviously - that was England for me! But then, next week I met Michael and began the process of falling in love for real, and Life since then has only gotten better. *Happy sigh* Obviously it's time to go to England again!

Buenos tardes

Not since working in the Oregon Capitol seven years ago have I been at a place where the etiquette for answering the phones depended on the time of day. It is therefore essential to keep a keen awareness of twelve o'clock in our minds at all times.

What'cha got cookin?

Ha, ha! Turns out that is a line from a country song! And all along I thought Michael was just being silly and clever when he'd say this in reply to my remark, 'Hey, good-lookin'!' We are eating well this week, with the elegant and classy fish soup on Monday and fried catfish and fried green tomatoes planned for tonight. On Monday we watched Smokey and the Bandit, one of the movies left by Michael's last roommate, who is undoubtedly much more civilised and has better taste now that he has married Catherine. It it possibly one of the dumbest movies ever made. I quote:

Me (watching the movie): This is possibly one of the dumbest movies ever made!

However, we made up for it by eating ice cream. There was none in the house. We are very fortunate to have a Kroger right around the corner. I dashed out and came back in under fifteen minutes fortified with Mocha Almond Fudge and Chocolate Peanut Butter. Life is therefore good.

Last Friday we went out to dinner at Outback Steakhouse to celebrate eleven months of marriage. We eat out so rarely that it's still a treat - I think it will always be a thrill for me, even just running to Subway or Pizza Hut. We talked about how quickly a year goes by and pondered the fact that two years ago this time, we hadn't even met. After dinner we stopped by Babies R Us to pick out a gift for Andy and Jamie, whose shower we were attending the next day. (Andy is a co-worker of Michael's).

Me: This is so cute! Everyone will look at us and say, 'What a cute couple! They must be shopping for their own registry?'
Michael: Hey, here's a reserved parking space for expectant mothers. Are you trying to tell me something?

Saturday we went to the shower. The food was great and completely counted for both lunch and dinner. And we won two of the three games! One of them was that annoying game (at least I always find it so, because it's so limiting to my conversation) where you get a necklace (made of ribbon and lifesaver) at the beginning of the shower, and anytime you hear anyone say the word 'Baby' you get their necklace. The goal is to get as many necklaces as you can. Michael was awesome at this game. He collected necklaces rapidly and was up to three before I had even lost mine. I, meanwhile, was working the joint of small fry. There was this one kid who was either very good at it or had siblings who were very bad at it, wearing four necklaces. I laid diligent traps for him. 'How old are you? Nine? Can you read yet? Oh, you can? Can you read what that banner says?' [It said Baby Shower.] No good. He was too smart for that. Michael played off my scheme, though, and eventually tripped him up by telling him that the game of Guess How Many Jelly Beans In The Baby Bottle was Guess What The Jelly Beans Are In. And then, at the very end, when Jamie, surveying the field of battle with satisfaction, said, 'Now all we need is the baby,' Michael thought that was so funny that he actually repeated it after her! 'Did you actually SAY that?' I cried, pouncing upon his necklaces. The compensation is that he gets to share the prize (a gift certificate to Pizza Hut) with me. And he did come within three beans of guessing the baby bottle riddle.

Last night we sat down to watch Castaway (which Michael has been wanting to show me for awhile and I have strenuously avoided selecting whenever we go to the video rental store, because while I am willing to watch it I don't want to spend money to do so, no matter how good Michael thinks it is - 'I mean, how interesting could it be? A man stranded on a desert island...I read Robinson Crusoe, you know' - so I've been waiting to borrow it from Benjamin and Amanda, so as to have the comforting thought that at least we didn't waste any money on it to fall back on should it turn out to be as boring as I persist in thinking it will be) and I had actually psyched myself up for it pretty well when it was discovered that the DVD was defective. Bother. There went our plans for the evening. It felt profoundly deflating suddenly to have no movie to watch, so we ended up watching The Ghost and the Darkness, which Michael has also been wanting to show me for some time and which I have always found an excuse not to want to watch. But it actually wasn't nearly as bloody as advertised. Very scary and very well done, I thought, though we went online afterwards and read several blistering reviews of it. Humph. Movie critics are such cynics. It was based on true events surrounding the building of a bridge at Tsavo at the turn of the century, when a pair of man-eating lions ravaged the African work camp and brought terror to the countryside. After we were done watching it Michael pulled me to the computer and we looked up all we could about the story. Very cool. While we were at it, researching the truth behind the story, we looked up the historical facts surrounding the voyage of Harbo and Samuelson, two Norwegians who crossed the Atlantic by rowing an 18-foot dory from New York to France. We had a song about them on one of our Celtic CDs and were very gratified to find out that everything sung about them was true.

There was a preview on The Ghost and the Darkness for First Wives Club. I have never seen it. I mentioned that I wanted to see it. Michael informed me that it is dumb. 'I thought it probably would be,' I told him, 'but I still want to see it.' He is puzzled that I'd want to watch a movie for the sake of the stereotypes. Speaking of previews, recently I saw a preview for The Village, a very creepy-looking movie due to come out sometime in the too-distant future, so scary that I had Michael download a preview online and watch it with me, just to verify that it is creepy. I think I will have to watch it just to ascertain that the movie itself is less terrifying than the preview.

What happened after dinner

Me (yawning): Eating potatoes always makes me sleepy.
Michael: Is this something you've documented throughout your not-so-long life, or is it another grand sweeping assertion based on nothing more than the present circumstances - 'I just finished eating potatoes and I feel sleepy'?
Me: Um...well....
Michael: Uh-huh.

Semper fi!

Michael dressed up in full Marine uniform this Fourth of July, which fell on a Sunday this year. I felt SO proud of him as I glided to church on his arm, very conscious of the gleaming brass buttons on his jacket and the crisp white stripes of the trousers and all the emblems on his chest. I even told him, 'This is better than a dream come true! For all my hopes and aspirations to marry an MIU, I never really expected it would ever happen!' But it was terribly grand to stand next to him in the service and sing all those patriotic songs. During the welcome the pastor asked everyone who had ever been in the service to stand so we could applaud them. Michael stood, of course. Then after the applause had died down, Brother Gearl added, 'And could I ask that young Marine in full uniform to stand up? We're proud that he's proud of his uniform and of his country!' And so Michael stood up again, erect and with an impeccable poker face, to receive a standing ovation from the crowd. As Benjamin told him later, 'I thought it might be you when Brother Gearl first started speaking, and when I saw you standing I thought, I bet he's wishing he hadn't worn that about now!' Which, as I pointed out to Michael, was not surprising, as the mention of a 'young' Marine might have thrown anyone off.

But it WAS so grand to be escorted by my handsome Marine on the Fourth of July!

It was just about two years ago, in late July, as I stood outside the gate at Buckingham Palace and watched the changing of the guard, that I thought to myself, 'Yes, this is all well and good, and grand enough in its way, but I'll take a US Marine playing Yankee Doodle any day!' Lo and behold, less than a month later, I met Michael.

So then after church we went over to a luau hosted by Monica, around the pool, and that was very fun. We went swimming for the first time this year, and amazingly enough did not end up getting sunburnt. We ate Monica's Surprisingly Good Potato Salad and played a very fun parlour game, which I won, and ate yet more. Then we headed back to the church for the 'cookout' (actually it was a box lunch containing hamburgers, etc.) and concert, and sat on the grass with Todd and Marcela and Benjamin and Amanda, eating watermelon. Back home for fireworks, which we watched from the comfort and peace of our own front lawn.

Definitely the best Fourth of July yet for me!

What is so rare as a day in June?

Good question. The poet obviously failed to realise that a day in February is, by about 28 to 30. Either way, June days are gone for the year, and for all that it's still raining. The year is now officially half done. Wow. And 2004 just GOT here!

Miss Fran just stopped by and remarked that last week, on the 25th, Christmas was six months away. That means that now we are closer to this coming Christmas than to last Christmas.

Thirteen years ago today we moved into the Bullevard house. (This was the farm in Oregon.) We lived there for seven years, the longest I've ever lived in one place. And I've still not lived more than half my life in one place.

The continued rains have prevented us from mowing the lawn for the last few days. Bummer, huh? Michael pretends to be so disappointed each evening. 'Guess I can't mow tonight after all. Man! I was sure looking forward to it!' This means that it's coming up on three weeks for the back lawn. Nice while it lasts, but the fiddler's bill will have to be paid sooner or later.