I posted letters to a few of my homes today. As I addressed one letter to my mom in Delaware and another one to Mrs. Greco in Amsterdam, with a return address I paid for in person, with my name on the application, I actually laughed at the thought that I've received mail at every address on those envelopes. And those aren't even half of them!
When we were little and had spent hours/days/weeks in the car, my parents would turn around and say, "You guys are such troupers!" I've always taken pride in this statement, although it's found expression in my life in different ways as I grow up.
This weekend Ann and I had some guests from Northfield, good friends of mine from freshman year. Isaac and Matt are Sudanese, and on Saturday Matt was giddy with excitement about South Sudan's independence! Needless to say we celebrated with them.
They were in awe of our lifestyle -- the fact that we drink out of jars; that we don't have air conditioning, TV or internet; that we eat very little meat; that we ride our bikes almost everywhere. "You guys live so old-school!" they called from the patio above us as we pumped up our bike tires for a quick jaunt downtown to the farmer's market on Saturday morning. They spent most of the day and night taking turns sticking their faces in front of the fans in our kitchen.
It was good to have them here, but it's definitely harder to feed three boys on top of the usual two of us -- especially when those boys don't like vegetables. It's harder to share a bathroom with those boys as well, and on Sunday morning I walked into said bathroom to find the entire thing soaked and steamy because Matt had taken a shower even though we took the curtain down to make it feel less cramped. Who knows what towel he used, but several of the ones we had hanging in there were slightly soaked.
They also don't eat granola, but Ann and I kept the canister on the counter all weekend so we'd see the label: "Roll with the Punches Granola." It's been a good reminder on multiple occasions, and as Ann said while we were washing the dishes and reorganizing the food cupboard after they left yesterday morning, "We can dance with them all night... but we also make our own granola." The main ingredients: honey, oil, vanilla, ginger, craisins, almonds, rolled oats, and a punch of good nature. Crunchy granola girls who drink out of mason jars still can dance, and quite well too if I do say so myself.
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