Number 9 and Other Random Thoughts

1. Have I mentioned that I'm working on Number 9?  I started a master's degree in International Agriculture Development last month at Texas A&M.  I'm still not used to saying Howdy and other Aggie things, but it seems to be like a disease.  I'm sure I'll catch it.

Hopefully, I will finish this one before I'm 30.

2. I am so, so, so ready for summer.  I love warm weather and long days.  And floating the river.  And snow cones.  And flip flops.

3. I think I have perfected the making of Pioneer Woman's fettuccine alfredo.  I think I could eat it at least once a week, but then I would weigh 500 pounds because it's all cheese and butter and heavy whipping cream.  Delicious!  Maybe just every other week...

4.  I am on an old movie kick.  I can't get enough of Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movies lately.  You should watch Adam's Rib if you get a chance.  Hilarious dialogue!

5. Enough procrastinating!  I'm off to do more homework.  Dang it, Number 9!  

Number 5

Update on the 30 before 30 list.

I successfully completed number 5 a few months ago.  I ran the Buffalo Stampede in College Station with a few friends from work and my dad.

Let me rephrase.  I jogged the 5k.  My dad ran circles around me.

Really.

And then he would jog beside me going backwards.  Ugh.

But I was proud that I ran/jogged the whole way.  I never quite made it all the way to 3.1 miles in any of the training runs, so I was quite happy that I ran the whole way without having a heart attack.  Actually, there is definitely something to be said for adrenaline during a race.  It really helps.

I'm not posting an after the race photo.  There is no after the race photo because my face was all red and I was sweaty.  Not attractive.

As for my running career....

I might have logged five miles in the four months since the 5k.  I'll have to cross professional marathoner off the potential career list.

There are discussions of a 10k this spring.  I'll keep you posted.

Holy Living

I just finished reading Leviticus. It's an interesting book, but not quite as much fun as the stories on either side of it in Exodus or Numbers. Reading through it this time, though, I  was once again impressed with the breadth of God's command for holy living. There are commands for what they eat, how it was cooked, how they treated slaves, what to do if an ox died, how to care for rashes, how to be clean, where to set up the latrines, how to harvest wheat. The list goes on (for 27 chapters!), and I can't help but feel awed that God cares so much about the intimate details of daily life. God called the Israelites to live a life that was set apart from their neighbors, and then clearly detailed how it should look. And it's in these minute details that the pattern of living becomes clear...be fair to your neighbors, be clean, leave some for the poor, make time for rest, set aside time for worship. Be holy.

I wonder how the Israelites responded to God commands. Did they joyfully abandon the way they lived before and earnestly practice God's laws? Or did they begrudgingly try to form new habits? Did it take awhile to adapt to the daily pattern of holy living? Were there conversations like, "What is it we're supposed to do when my ox dies in my neighbor's field? I can't remember what Moses said about that." Did they see past the details to the bigger picture of what God was doing. I know I get bogged down in the details sometimes, and I forget that the pattern of holy living is part of the bigger story of redemption.

A day in Iraq...

Today, I went to a meeting at the Ministry of Agriculture with some of our USDA counterparts.  (Watch your local Iraqi news station tonight...you might see me.)

Then, we took our group on a tour of a sheep and cattle slaughterhouse.

I wore the same high heels to both places.  I don't think those shoes will ever be the same.

Flying

I traveled for 30 hours yesterday, College Station to Erbil, Iraq.

All this travel gave me time for reflection, and I've realized that over the span of most trips I go from loving airports and airplanes to hating them and then back to loving them.  All within about 30 hours.

Things start out well at the beginning of the trip.  I check in at the airport with anticipation, thinking about the new things to see and experience.  I settle into my chair with some coffee and wait for my flight.  I watch planes come and go, watch other travelers and enjoy the anticipation of travel.  I get on the plane and enjoy that rush of take-off.  This is my favorite part of flying, that feeling of heaviness before the plane defies gravity and lifts into the air.  I love flying!

It's downhill after take-off the initial take-off.  After that comes awful airline food.  Cramped seats and stiff knees.  Delays.  Wandering through the mazes that they call airports.  Multiple security checks.  Feeling dirty and disheveled.  I hate flying.

Finally, we land at the final destination.  My luggage made it!  I take the shuttle out to the parking lot.  I spot my friends who have come to pick me up.  My sense of anticipation and adventure returns.  I can't wait to walk around the city, eat my favorite Iraqi foods and haggle over the price of souvenirs. I love flying!

Flying.  It's a love-hate-love relationship.

Mystery French Horn Man

At least once a week for the last month or so, I've heard a single French horn playing when I leave the office in the evening.  A couple weeks ago, I finally spotted the man playing the French horn in the far corner of our office parking lot.  And today, I saw him from our office window.  He was practicing a marching routine by himself in the parking lot.

Random.

And fun.

I don't know who you are or why you play, Mystery French Horn Man, but you make me smile.

Simmer-er

I read this on a blog today, and I think it describes me pretty well:

I’m usually not a prickly person. I don’t argue much because I honestly don’t have a lot to defend. Most of my opinions are moldable and if I read something different than what I believe, it usually causes me to stop and consider for a while. I’m a simmer-er. It takes a few weeks after a read or a discussion for my opinion to be fully formed. And by then, most people don’t care anymore. That means I was never interesting in my college classes. I didn’t raise my hand. It isn’t that I didn’t have anything to say. It’s just that I was always a month late to say the things. By then the rest of the world had moved into the more brilliant places.

This is not to say that I don't have any firm opinions, but it takes me awhile to think through issues.  I like to let things simmer.  Percolate.  Mull.  Ruminate.

In fact, I'm still thinking over something someone said at a Bible study over a month ago.  But that's a post for another time...after I finish thinking it over.