7 Quick Takes Friday #36

See more 7 Quick Takes Contributions at Jennifer Fulwiler's Conversion Diary.

Well, first of all, I have to say that this has been a week of nudity, or at least possibilities for nudity, as you will see. Then, there were the travel snafus, but that is par for the course. Finally, there were some enjoyable moments with great people. All in a week's work!

So, then, here are my quick takes, with emphasis on quick since I have to get to bed tonight in order to get to the airport tomorrow to take the trip back to where I came from and get set up to do it all over again to a new location in a couple of weeks, in other words: business as usual.

1. Sunday. Well, I have blogged about Sunday, at least the part of it when I ended up late for Mass and nearly had no clothes to wear. At least, some okay-but-could-be-more-appropriate things-to-wear fell under my hand at the last minute as I was dashing out the door. (See post, On Being Worthy.) The immediate post-Mass part of Sunday was spent entertaining friends at a BBQ in our yard. Donnie cooked, of course. No knowledgeable person would ever agree to eat something I had made. (As Doah wrote in his book, Mommy Poisoned Our House Guest, "my mommy is a very nice mommy but she is a very bad cook." With Donnie behind the grill tongs, a delicious time was had by all.

2. Sunday again. After our BBQ, Donnie and I had to dash to Casa Maria, the restaurant/community center building at Old Mission, where Fr. Ed had made arrangements for all of us who had helped out with the annual fiesta (I was nearly the sole clean-up person for more than 8 hours for a crowd of hundreds) to have a special meal together. Oh, oh! Two big meals in one day! Good-bye, diet! Sunday's activities added up to a two-pound gain, so eating will be removed from my activity list for this coming week.

3. Monday. Our prayer group met on Monday, as usual, but the meeting was far from business as usual. My co-director had stumbled into big trouble: after moving and having taken on a brand-new mortgage, his overtime was eliminated and his wife lost her job. Stage right, enter panic. Stage left, enter depression. While they have been able to build stability into their financial lives beginning in 6-8 weeks and their mortgage had been taken care of up-front before moving, everyday living and ongoing bill payment looked hopeless. But, never fear, there is always hope when God's credit card is near! Everyone contributed a little bit (total $70), and I charged to God's credit card the remaining amount needed to purchase a $500 visa card for them. (See Sometimes It's Our Own for details of that decision and issues of trust related to it.) So, we met at one of the member's house to give my co-director and his wife a housewarming party and, unknown-in-advance to them, the visa card. Overwhelmed, they told us that the amount was just what they needed to make the bridge to the period of stability that lay a few weeks ahead of them. It was an emotional meeting, and as for that trust, well, the following day, I was able to get airline tickets, using my free miles, for the abused sister of a friend and her two young daughters. My friend, who also belongs to our prayer group, had only been able to raise $200, which was not enough for the tickets. When I was able to get the tickets for free, she donated the collected $200 to helping pay off God's credit card. I have no doubt that the other $210 will appear before the payment is due to the credit card company; it always does. After the meeting, I ran past Shane's house to take in his garbage cans since he, Lemony, and kids had gone fishing. (Nathaniel caught his first fish.) From the sublime to the simple! All in a day's work!

4. Tuesday. As not uncommonly happens, my trip to Georgia became instantly complicated when I arrived at the airport and learned that my plane was delayed. That created a domino effect, and I ended up stranded part-way, in Phoenix. The airline put me up at a hotel overnight, but I did not have access to my luggage, i.e. no pajamas. So, I enjoyed an evening of prancing about nude, except for some moments on the balcony when I did discreetly wrap myself in a towel. Some naughty moments in one's life can be nice.

5. Wednesday. The day had an inauspicious start. On the heels of the plane fiasco, one might think I had had my share of troubles for one trip, but that was not to be the case. Having received the bill under my door, I did not have to check out at the desk, so I left the key in my room, closed my door which locked it, then headed to the elevator, only to find out that I needed the key that was in yh room to open the door from the hallway to the lobby. Catch-22, a real gotcha! After wandering in a few circles, thinking that perhaps I would need to call the front desk and be released from my self-created prison, I discovered that there was another elevator. I tried that, and it dumped out into the lobby, no key needed. Whew! However, my wanderings resulted in missing breakfast. No big deal; I needed to give up eating anyway. With a major dash between the closely connecting flights once I arrived in Charlottesville, I made the final leg to August, Georgia without any difficulties. Lizzie picked me up at the airport, which always amazes me in that it looks more like a villa than an airport (probably it was at one time) and brought me to her house. I unpacked. Oh, oh! No clothes for work the next day. Ah! I remember putting them next to the suitcase but not in it, and Donnie had apparently zipped the suitcase, as it was, and put it int the car. So, the day had an inauspicious finish to match its start. I borrowed some university-professor-style clothes from Lizzie, not at all like my normal business attire, and somewhat oversized for me, and deciding that it was the best I could do, went to bed.

6. Thursday. What a lovely day! After leaving Lizzie's country home in South Carolina (see photo), I headed for the Georgia border and our office, where I made several presentations to the people in our Georgia office, met with clients, and spent some time with our director and assistant director. I only come once a year, so people are always happy to see me. It is like a reunion. Everyone had brought in their specialties for lunch, and we had a buffet together in the office. Yummy! Too yummy! So much for not eathing this week! I will stop eating next week!

7. Thursday again. For dinner, the director and assistant director took Lizzie and me to dinner at the Bonefish Grill, a local chain restaurant with yummy seafood. Oops! Too much food again! I checked my weight as bedtime neared. Yep, weight gain in lieu of the weight loss hoped for this week. Well, let's see, there is always next week...

Wishing you a great next week! (I won't be eating, but I hope you will be!)

7 Quick Takes Friday #33

Another week, another seven days of work, at least another seven learning experiences. Here are the thoughts that have accompanied this week's experiences. Thanks to Jennifer Fulwiler for hosting the 7 Quick Takes meme at Conversion Diary.

1. Last Friday, I ended up at Mass accidentally. I suppose it would have been much better had I ended up there intentionally, but rarely do I have Friday noon available. Work seems to tumble right up to departure time and then spills into the Mass time itself. Last Friday was no different, or so I thought. As I drove into my parking spot, one of my employees approached me to talk about matters in his department. Ah, I thought with resignation as I listened intently to the information he wished to share, one more week without being able to take advantage of Mass being offered at the little church down the road from my office -- or lunch! (The church near my office is a far cry in beauty, historicity, or even numbers of worshipers from the old mission here in San Ignatio and a place where I know no one, but Mass is Mass and I had attended once before when I was able to sneak away from work while no one was looking.) As we were talking, my employee looked at his watch and excused himself, saying that he had to hurry because he wanted to go to Mass. "Oh, take me with you!" I exclaimed, and off we went. The priest who celebrated Mass was an elderly gent who reminded me very much of my beloved Fr. Barry, who was transferred out of our diocese six months ago. It turned out that my employee knew most of the people who regularly attend Mass there and introduced me to them. What a blessing Friday noon turned out to be!

2. Saturday morning dawned too early. We had to be up because the first thing in the morning the carpet cleaner, Eric, who had spent the afternoon cleaning the carpet throughout the house in preparation for two upcoming parties, was coming back to redo a portion of what he already cleaned because because Donnie had brought chairs that he had set on the porch back into the house, dragging them and his dirty shoes over the newly clean carpet without realizing it was still wet. Dark black streaks glared from the white carpet. Eric came bright and early and quickly cleaned up Donnie's mess. He stayed a bit and talked and would take no money for the extra work. That is the way it is in small towns, or at least in our small town. I went out onto the porch to say goodbye to him, then walked back over the wet carpet with socks made dusty from the front porch. There were the black marks again! Well, gray marks. Thank God for Resolve! After the carpet dried, I could take care of my dirty work myself.

3. On Sunday, Donnie and I attended a funeral mass for the mother of one of my employees at St. Mary Assyrian Chaldean Catholic Church in Campbell, California. What the employee forgot to tell me was (1) the Mass would be conducted in Aramaic and (2) women need a head covering in order to take communion. I probably could have guess both these situations, but I did not think ahead and so was quite unprepared, especially for the Eucharist, which I was unable to take. (I could comment on that, but I won't.) The Mass was celebrated by Fr. Yoshia Sana, who is originally from Iraq and was posted to the Campbell church by Rome. Present-day Chaldeans and Assyrians come from the northern regions of Iraq and the eastern regions of Syria. Ethnically, they are the descendants of the ancient inhabitants of Mesopotamia. Culturally, they are the heirs of the Aramaic language and culture of Jesus; most of the local population in this part of California, particularly those in my employ, speak as their everyday first language modern Aramic (which differs from the language of Jesus's day in that all languages add/drop/change vocabulary and simplify grammar over time). You can read more about Assyrians and Chaldeans here (much of the information is in Arabic, but if you cannot read Arabic, keep digging, there is much information in English, as well. There were helpful missals in all the pews at the church. At first, I thought great, Arabic, but as I looked more closely and tried to read (nary a word could I understand), I realized that there were additional letters beyond those present in the Arabic alphabet. It is rare that I end up somewhere where I cannot understand at least something of what is being said in the local language, but Sunday was one of those rare occasions. We also went to the sitting (an Arabic way of paying respect to the departed that involves men together and women together -- poor Donnie had no way to communicate because none of the men, except my employee, spoke English well enough for communication; at least, I could speak Arabic with the women, but Donnie had learned little Arabic when we lived in Jordan and has forgotten most of what he did know.

4. On Monday, I had the day off! Yes! Happy Fourth a day late! We held a BBQ for my prayer group and others from Old Mission Church. We brought Doah down, and he celebrated with us. Donnie cooked. (No one would have permitted me to cook, given my reputation for burning or otherwise ruining any food I touch.) Shane, Lemony, and kids showed up. It was the first time I saw Nathaniel up close and personal with his new spiked haircut. I almost did not recognize him. "Grandma! You know who I am!" he complained. The prayer group members, who had done a lot of praying for Nikolina but had never met her, were delighted to see her. They were astonished at her progress from nearly hopeless to full of life.

5. Tuesday I attended an all-day, in-house, mini-conference for everyone within the organization. We have one a year. I am not actively involved in setting them up; there is a committee, overseen by my boss, the local head of our organization, that does that. I arrived at the plenary session promptly because a friend and colleague, someone I have worked closely with for nearly 30 years, was coming from the East Coast to be the keynote speaker. Delighted to see me, he immediately made plans for us to get together the next day to discuss some things of mutual business interest, and we did. The best part of the day, however, was an incidental discussion with one of the junior leaders of another division. She had worked for me years ago when I first worked at our organization. (I worked there from 1989-1993, then left for 13 years, returning in 2006.) She told me the history of the annual conference -- me! I was astonished. We had done such a conference on a small scale in my division years ago. A couple of years after I left, she happened to be working on a project where she was in a position to make a recommendation to an advisory committee that the whole organization pick up on this idea and conduct an annual in-house conference, and management agreed. This has now been going on almost 15 years. When she saw me, she said, "Look what your conference turned into!" I did not understand until she explained. Oh, my, it is good to feel that one has made a contribution somewhere! (I do realize, however, that it took many other people with as good or better ideas really to turn it into the major event that it is today.)

6. Wednesday I had my first Pashto lesson. One day not long ago when I was handing out cookies to employees on one of my famous MBWA (management by walking about) afternoons, one of our Afghani employees, learning that I have been involved in some Afghanistan-related projected, offered to teach me Pashto. I emailed him, thanking him for the offer and taking him up on it if he was still inclined to help me. Indeed, he was! He came to my office on Wednesday, nervous as all get-out. After all, he is one of our traveling employees so I don't know him very well, and I am his boss's boss's boss. That lengthy chain can unnerve some folks although most, given my open-door policy and occasional afternoon cookies, have become used to interacting with me. Jamal perched nervously on one of the chairs at the conference table in my office. Seeing his nervousness, I took a slightly lower chair, so that he could look down on me, not up to me. That seemed to do the trick of throwing us into the proper teacher and student roles. Pashto is the 18th language I have studied, so I do not find it difficult. Jamal expected to teach me part of the alphabet that first day and was quite surprised to learn that I already know the alphabet (except for three letters). The alphabet is the same as the Arabic alphabet, which I have known since my days of living in Jordan. He quickly taught me the three letters, the days of the week, greetings, numbers to 1000, all the pronouns in the language, present tense of some verbs, sentence structure, possessive prepositions. In one hour, we were already communicating in the language albeit in short, limited sentences, banal questions and answers. Jamal left his glasses behind; when I contacted him to return them, he said it was because he was so overwhelmed by all the work we had accomplished in such a short time that he lost his head! :) We had our second hour today (well, actually, 30 minutes is all I could squeak out, but now I can talk about things in the future and past tenses, can describe my town and state, saying such things as "San Ignatio is a beautiful, historic town located in California in the southwest part of the USA," "I will be going to Jordan on the 19th of August and returning on the 25th," "I come to work every day at 7:00 in the morning but today I came at 7:30," and "I have seven children, four boys and three girls." Jamal is so excited about having an experienced language learner that he came in from vacation today and is coming in again tomorrow to teach me. I guess he got over his nerves!! The downside? I don't do homework (no time for that), but I warned him about that in advance.

7. I finally got around to reviewing a book proposal for Cambridge University Press. They tend to ask my opinion before giving contracts for new books because the two books I have published through them have been their most successful. Unfortunately, I could not give even one thumbs up to this particular book. I always feel a tad guilty when this happens because I know how hard it is to put a book proposal together and how disappointing it is to get a negative response. On the other hand, the editors/authors should have done their homework a little better and been a little humbler in their presentation. They claimed that the whole world would be excited about their book. Well, probably not. In fact, I suspect that only libraries would buy it and then only if it were to carry the CUP label. They claimed that their work was seminal. Well, no, they even listed others who had written on the topic in their bibliography. They listed someone with a well known name in the field as writing the final chapter. Well, perhaps he would do that but they had not included an abstract, so clearly he had not cooperated with them on a deadline and, while famous (and a bit infamous), in my opinion, he does not have enough experience in the narrow field about which the book editors were collecting chapters to make reliable and valid commentary. While I always dislike giving a thumbs down on proposals, it is not fair to either authors or the press to encourage the publication of a book that is likely to be a bomb. That, I suppose, is why I have a reputation for honest and frank reviews, which I would prefer to retain.