Thursday, March 27, 2008

Somehow, this didn't make it onto the job description...



As the snow fell on Wednesday night--yes, snow on March 26--we all gathered at church for the annual Christian Education fund raiser/auction. Grilled meat, fresh potato salad, and soft serve ice cream were on the menu. Tables were lined with all the items--handcrafted and homemade, coupons for meals at restaurants or at families' homes, toys and treasures, all side by side. And, my favorite part, the auctioneer's call. A limber tongue, strong voice, and a quick wit makes a good auctioneer, and Krommendyk and Co., supplied us well.

All was moving along smoothly. There was laughter in the room and the steady buzz of people having a good time. The food was good and I was enjoying chatting with friends while I kept track of the toys my daughters had spotted that I HAD to bid on--that's another story (Todd as lousy auction bidder/strategist). Anyhow, all this was going on when the auctioneer stops and one of the members from church takes the mic and begins to explain how much I like lemon meringue pie. (Which I do like...) All this moves very quickly to a money making proposition. "Who would pay to see Leah feed Pastor Todd a piece of lemon meringue pie?" Great. People raise their cards and the amount is soon to $200 or so (I threw in $25 as well.) (Edit: They tell me that this stunt raised more than $600 for the auction. If I knew that it had this much potential to make money, I would have volunteered Leah, too.)

So, I come up front and there is another development. We have to do this blindfolded. Hmmm... This is a poorly veiled setup. We know what's coming don't we?

This is me smiling, but thinking, "This is not going to end well."

It all started innocently, with Leah snagging a bite or two for herself.





Things took an unfortunate turn right here...



And the inevitable...



Thanks, Lavonne.



Notice, how clean Leah remains....





Thankfully, everyone there was shocked, simply shocked; dismayed at the indignity I had to suffer. Several women in tears, I'm sad to report.



Other than some meringue and lemon filling up the nose, nothing broken.



I think this whole event somehow falls underneath the whole "servant leadership" model they told us about in seminary. Perhaps being willing to take a pie in the face in good humor could be loosely connected with feet washing.

Monday, March 17, 2008

St. Paddy

Hope you had a good St. Patrick's Day. Mine was fine, as much as someone with Frisian Dutch heritage celebrates the holiday. Kinda like this YouTube video I stumbled upon:

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Santa Barbara



It's been a few days since I've written. And, well, I don't have a lot to say, other than I am in the middle of the Lenten push to Easter. Funny, how Lent is supposed to be about reflection... I can't help being tempted for selfish reasons to look toward the Monday after Easter. Perhaps it would be wise to reflect upon my reflecting. Blogging invites that type of navel-gazing doesn't it?

Anyhow, Leah and I had a wonderful trip to Santa Barbara the last week of February. So nice. The locals complained about the cooler weather and the rain, but considering they were speaking to an Iowan who left sub-freezing temperatures, I thought the weather was great, and they were just whiny. Much thanks to family and friends who made this trip possible for us. We are so very grateful.

Leah had to present at a conference at University of California-Santa Barbara at a writing conference. While she worked, I loafed. With our rented car, I drove into the mountains, went to an old Roman Catholic mission, hung out at a coffee shop, spent some time at the beach, ate some of the local produce at a farmer's market. The fresh mandarins and chile-salted almonds were first-rate. Also the grape juice from wine grapes (syrah & cabernet sauvignon) was amazing.

I did find some time with Leah, too, thankfully. We ate amazing food. Thai one night. Italian another. Fresh crepes at a French cafe for brunch. Seafood that was fresh and out of this world. It's good we didn't stay longer. At the price of a few of these meals, we would have been eating rice and beans at home. Somehow the culinary diversity of Pizza Ranch doesn't quite satisfy all the time. The broasted chicken and the "Sweet Swine" may be close to food for the gods, but sometimes you need to branch out.

We spent some time on State St. in Santa Barbara, touring the stores of the Paseo Nuevo. Later on in the day we went to wine country, through the mountains and inland to Los Olivos. I would recommend only two wine tasting stops. Seriously. If we would have gone to a third, we would have been sleeping in the car that night. If you haven't tried it yet, I highly recommend a bottle of port and some dark chocolate. That's a sensory experience to be had.

Also, we brought home some games we have played and look forward to playing with some of you. "Rat-A-Tat-Cat"--Remember playing the card game "Golf"? Similar, but the girls love it. Also, we brought home "Carcasonne," a game with some Settlers similarities, but an entirely different game. A lot of fun.

We bought them because of the most amazing game salesman we've met. His name was Rory, or "Roory," as he said it. Rory was Irish and was amazing. As soon as we figured out his thick brogue, we gave him the details on what we were looking for and he essentially told us what we were going to buy. Not only that, but he brought out his own copy of Carcasonne and played a game with us on a display case in the store. Meanwhile, he gave us a lightning fast history lesson on the relationship between the Scots and the Irish and how they came to settle the British Isles. Oh, and if you ever go to Santa Barbara and meet Rory, don't ever call him British. Or, as he said, "Do-ant eh-vehr f*****g call me British."

Anyhow, a great weekend. More stories to tell, but Lent is calling. A little over two weeks to Easter! (And the Monday after.) Here are some pics from the trip, too. There are a bunch and I didn't sort out the wheat from the chaff, so watch at your own risk.