27
Oct
Posts Tagged ‘nashville’
21
Nov
fall leaves and friends
Hello internet. It has been a while – life has been stressful, there is a side project, and some gatherings of family and friends have required some fun planning. If all works out, I will tell you about the side project within a few weeks. But today, I want to celebrate friends and fall leaves.
Last year I waited and waited to bag the carpet of leaves that fell from the trees in my yard. You can read abut me carrying what seemed like endless bags on my head up a rather long lawn here. The experience made me think about the grand irony that I love big, old trees and the deep, varied colors of fall, and yet the raking and bagging of leaves made me want to live in an apartment surrounded by cement sidewalks.
This year I had grand plans to attack a piece of the yard each weekend until it was done. (Yes, if I had true perseverance, I could work hard and finish it in a weekend. But I don’t.) And so two weekends ago I did about a half of my front lawn. 12 bags and I was impressed with myself. The next Saturday, Elizabeth and Joel volunteered their help. In three and a half hours we had raked the rest of the front and all of the back yard, took a break for smoothies, bagged 25 bags of leaves, and somehow managed to fit 33 bags of leaves into 3 cars, and empty the bags at the city compost. And the rest of the evening was filled with Trader Joe’s Chinese food, Blokus, Scrabble, and laughter.
And that is the power of friendship. Three strangers might have been able to accomplish the same task, but there would not have been laughter. There would not have been camaraderie, and there would not be hearts full from having worked alongside friends. This was one of those afternoons in life that lived up to the cliche expression, “many hands make light work.” Thank you dear friends for teaching me how I can continue to love those big old trees and fall colors.
Tags: fall leaves, friends, nashville
5
Feb
pita bread
Today, thanks to a colleague, I discovered a little hole-in-the-wall Mediterranean restaurant. Which means that, for the first time since arriving in Nashville, I had really good pita bread. When I asked if they would sell me some of the pita bread, the owner said sure, but it was kind of expensive. Matter of fact, he said I could buy pita at a store for about a $1, but he had to charge me $10 for the bag. I said that was just fine because the other pita was not the same – it would not be as good. As he rang up my bag of pita bread, he decided to charge me $8. And tonight I had one of my favorite comfort foods – a melted cheese sandwich made with pita bread. It was perfect.
Last weekend I started to work on the leaf situation in my yard. For all of you thinking, “Why in the world is Pam raking leaves in January?” — Keep the comments to yourself unless you plan on taking care of them for me. That is not what this post is about.
In a mad dash before the sun set last Sunday, I raked the front lawn into piles and bagged a couple bags of leaves. On this most gloriously sunny Saturday six days later, I did a little more raking and got most of the rest of the leaves in the front lawn bagged – another 8 bags. Then came the task of moving the bags to one place.
These are relatively big, awkward, slightly heavy bags, and I have a long front lawn. Tiny house, big lawn. I grabbed the first and held in front of me. I imagine this is something like what it feels to be 9 months pregnant. I imagine this is what other Americans do, and this whole lawn experience for me is about embracing the American experience because I do not naturally gravitate towards lawn work. The second bag of leaves was carried the same way, and I as I tossed the bag in the pile I thought it was just stupid. Why would one choose to carry bags in the most awkward method possible that was simultaneously not kind to one’s lower back?
Bags three through eight were hoisted onto my head and easily transported up my lawn. Having some very white DNA, I still do this best with two hands as stabilizers, but there is enough Africa in my blood, that this was 100% easier than the method that simulated pregnancy. I do not live on a busy street, but I still wondered if anyone drove around the block just to see what was happening. My natural inclination is to leave the leaves where they fall and let the land return to its natural state. However, if you have to perform this arduous task, I highly suggest using one’s head to transport the bags. So much better!
I’m not talking about the temperature outside or what form the water falling from the sky is taking. If that mattered, I would be sorely disappointed by the cold rain falling from the sky or my childhood beach Christmases. Rather, it has everything to do with the atmosphere, the mind, and the heart.
My tree is up. Yes, it is fake, and I love it. My parents (mom was the key character) got me an ornament every year of my childhood and young adult life. Now these eclectic ornaments decorate my little tree. Last week a friend asked what was at the top of my tree. An angel of course. Only she lacks oversized wings, glitter, red lips, and the general stateliness that characterize angel tree toppers of the country I currently call home. My unassuming angel of plain cloth was created in the part of the Holy Land called Jordan. The white lights on the tree provide beautiful light–and they are on whenever I am both home and awake.
My nativity scenes are out. Scenes. Right now I have four–one of which is at the office. It is my hope to slowly gather nativity scenes from around the world. My childhood has etched into my head what I think the scene might have looked like. This image was developed during my times wandering the streets and markets of such cities as Cairo, Jerusalem and Damascus. I imagine the characters had olive skin tones and wore long dresses. Everyone’s childhood has impacted how they imagine the story of Christ’s birth. And that is why I have no problems having a nativity set with white characters. It will just not be my only set.
What else is there? Christmas music on the radio, the advent wreath and stories at church, preparations for celebrations and feasts to come, and general merriment. It is a good season. It is a merry season. And the temperature has so little to do with it.
26
Oct
photo of the day
26
Oct
rubber duck race
Rubber Duck Race. Yep, that’s right. Today I bought a raffle ticket in the body of two little rubber ducks to race down the river all in the name of a fundraiser. I named them Bill and Bob; I figured they were my southern ducks. Unfortunately, in a sea of over 7,000 ducks, Bill and Bob did not win any prizes. But…my souvenir duck is making a new home of my bathtub.
Tags: ducks, fund raisers, nashville
27
Sep
iron mike
day to day
lost in the mundane,
which is really the wild.
sometimes it takes unusual inspiration
to shake me out of the day to day.
inspiration from another’s sacrifice,
inspiration from america:
iron mike.
I hurriedly wrote the above after a staff meeting earlier this week. Mike is an average 55 year old man from Elizabethtown. He became ‘Iron Mike’ when he biked from coast to coast to raise funds for Blood:Water Mission. He found something worth fighting for, bought a bike a couple weeks before the ride began, joined the team, and rode his bike for the better part of 9 weeks telling people at gas stations, parks, churches and concerts about the men, women, and children who needed clean water in Africa. Iron Mike and his team raised a fairly impressive sum of money and impacted thousands. Beyond that, they were and continue to be inspiring. Iron Mike stopped in our office earlier this week and he encouraged our staff to continue our work and to work towards excellence.
I love what I do, and I love Africa. America is comfortable, but I let my guard down in Africa. The stories of hurt and happiness, of pain and perseverance, and of trials and triumphs of Africans are my day to day. In America it is in the pictures, proposals, and reports that I read daily, and in Africa it is all around me. It is wild and lovely, but is my day to day. In America I am surrounded by shiny windows, smooth roads, fast food, and blinking lights; consumerism. It is a constant sensory overload and yet it is uninspiring. And that is why I found Iron Mike so refreshing and incredibly inspiring. I am grateful to be in a place where I have the privilege to regularly be inspired and blessed by the Iron Mike’s of America.
Tags: BWM, inspiration, nashville
20
Jul
arriving in nashville
I recently received an email from a friend titled “Breathing Check.” Yes, I am alive. Alive and well. I haven’t written as life has been busy, and the beginning of my time here was trying in its own way. On day three in town I found my one of my car windows busted and my car stereo stolen. Annoying at any time, day three was in the midst of painting multiple rooms in my house, living with friends to 45 minutes away to avoid sleeping amongst the paint fumes, learning the roads in a new town, and starting a new job. So it took a little longer to be able to write a sane blog than I thought it would. Since day three I have managed to finish the wall painting, move in, find some random pieces of needed furniture, unpack most of my crap, get the car fixed, start to figure out the new job, have a few good nights of hanging out with people from the office, and generally avoid traumatic events. As the police officer said, it should all be uphill from here.
Me & JB in front of a Vanderbilt University building. As you can see below, it was a rather pretty campus.
For some reason I was not shutter happy this trip and so things that were done but not captured on film, or really, sd memory card…going downtown to Broadway for live music and drinks, friends I stayed with and their lively and imaginative four year old daughter, Lebanese and Ethiopian food.