The Honduran Hammock

This afternoon, Alex and I enjoyed our last few hours together until I had to leave for Corvallis. We decided to make them productive hours! One trip to Home Depot later, we had the makings of a lovely support system for the house's row of green beans:



And, a lot of rope. The rope was for a well-remembered but much neglected Honduran hammock. I bought this striped, epitome of comfort during my year of service. A handy-man for the orphanage there made me make-shift S-hooks (is that even a real thing?) and we roped it up around a tree during the dry season, and inside the house during the wet season. The rope was found missing on a few occasions during the dry season - mysterious pairs of child-sized feet were scattered all around the base of the mango trees where the hammock had hung. For whatever reason, the rope was more valuable and of greater interest than the hammock itself :)

So, finally, almost five years later, my hammock is brought out from it's white plastic bag. This is the first place I've lived in since Honduras that had a place for the hammock. Right below the deck at the Tukwila house, there is a perfect place made for hammock-swinging...






Or, so we had hoped....






A few tries later, knots were secured, and we managed to take our first swing in my Honduran hammock.

The Other Shoe

The Other Shoe, 4/27/08

In recognition of this beautiful man and marriage with which I have been blessed, I will not squander, flaunt and take it for granted.
Nor will I be afraid of its loss, limiting our potential by fear.

I will be ever-so grateful!
And I will show my humility by endeavoring to support a path of service,
love,
sacrifice,
happiness,
good,
strength,
growth,
beauty,
kindness,
consultation,
patience,
mercy,
honesty...

We will be a "fortress of well-being."
A stronghold of good.
A home.

We must be happy, despite any difficulty.

I love you, Alex, mi amor. And I thank God for you in my life. May we bring happiness to others. May we bring a smile to 'Abdu'l-Baha's face.

_______________
This is a journal entry from a few days ago (gasp!). Yes, I am making it public. :)

Sometimes I find myself worrying. I worry over Alex's and my long drives to see each other, or what the doctor might say about some weird symptom...or whatever else I cannot, don't want to, imagine. When one finds happiness, I think it is natural to feel like at any moment the other shoe could drop. I'm not a fan of that mentality, though. What good does it really do? Nonetheless, I still feel it sometimes.

I've also found myself fearing my own lack of appreciation. I wonder if I am grateful enough; if my insufficient recognition of the wonderful things in my life could take them away from me.

Alex and I talked of these concerns a few times in the weeks before our wedding. "What if our test is to lose this?"

A few days before the wedding, Alex's mom told us of a dream she had had (which she can also tell much more accurately). She saw Alex and I, and our family generations ahead. She sensed that so long as our family's goals were always, always, always centered around service to God and humanity, we would enjoy happy marriages, long lives, health, and prosperity.

That sounds great, no?! Well, there's still the whole "so long as our family's goals are always, always, always centered around service to God and humanity thing." Whew. That's hard work!

...yup.

What good communication looks like.

This is what Alex's and my communication looks like when we are five and a half hours apart.



Yes, that's Blue Steel.



...and what our free time looks like. ;)

That's "Tukwinja" to you, thank you.

It was a pleasant evening, despite my raging fever and the dreary rain outside. Alex had just gotten home early from work; his poor sickie wife needed sustenance. The phone rang.

"Hello?" responds Alex.

Not one, but five other people said in return, "Hello!"

I sat back trying to make sense of what sounded to me like static on the other end. I hear fevers'll do that to you. All the while Alex said nothing more revealing than:

"Oh!"

"Wow..."

Laughing, "Well....uh...."

and

"How soon do you need to know?"

I stared (not glared) from him beneath my pile of blankets on the couch. A Popsicle stick was poking into my side. Reaching over to move it out of the way as Alex hung up the phone, I said:
"So?"

He proceeded to inform me that the five voices belonged to a few of our close friends from the Seattle area. They wanted to know if we wanted to move to Tukwila (WHERE?!?) with them to home-front pioneer. They needed to know in two days.

At this point in time, Alex and I had been married for a whole of four months and had only recently finished putting our art up on the walls and had finally decided which direction the toilet paper roll would go (I joke). But, really, to have finally settled in and move again so soon?! Not to mention, our lease wouldn't be up for another two months!

Regardless, our interest was piqued. Live with five amazing people, in a house filled with a spirit of perseverance, and dedicated to supporting grass-roots community development endeavors?! When ya put it like that, all else seemed moot.

We called our landlords that night to verify the lease-breakage policy. People rarely leave their building (being that it is in fact located in prime-lake-side/Whole Foods territory) and, clearly, they were surprised by the question! After a few minutes of realizing their concern that they had done something wrong, I simply described our reason for asking.

"Oh," said our land-lady. "Well, regardless, you'll be responsible for the months of your lease."

The next evening, after a lot of consultation between each other and our financial "spread-sheet," Alex and I decided to go for it. When else would we have this kind of unique experience, and why should typical expectations for the life of a married couple (i.e. living in their own place alone) dissuade us from this adventure? We would take the risk.

We moved in one week. Pretty good for two people working and going to school full-time. Needless to say, when all was said and done, we were tiiiiiiired.

Since then our house has been the venue for a housewarming party with 130 people in attendance (through no fault of our own, might we add),

a Children's Class Teacher training, our local Baha'i community's Feast, a brand-new weekly devotional gathering addressing the topic of Social Action and the Baha'i Faith, a Junior Youth (middle-school aged youth) retreat,



and countless (countless) late-night get-togethers with some amazing people.

(Where, and with who else would you sit around talking about the relationship between justice and mercy, life-after-death, or the brilliance that can characterize middle-school aged youth? ...yes, yes, of course. You're right; my apologies. Your house.)

You should come by - any time. We'd love to have you. :) Though, I should warn you - you just might want to start calling yourself a "Tukwinja."

So, it's been a while.

Around six months, to be exact. Alex and I had many grand intentions of keeping regular updates on this new-fangled blog, and have disappointed our generation's techno-savvy, blog-obsessed standards.

Hopefully, it's been for good reason.

You already know, we got married. That was a biggie! Our first six months have been blissful. ...anyone who's been one half a newly married couple knows that "blissful," for the purposes of describing the life of matrimony, more correctly means, "It's as good as what you work for, and good is really good." We're working hard, and we're loving it.

One of the things we're working on is catching up on little details like, oh, say, thank you cards! You should be watching out for yours in an "inbox" near you. Yes, your "inbox." We recently realized that without your house addresses (we sent you e-card invitations, for goodness sakes!), the journey intended for the stack of cards and envelops purchased for the purpose of conveying what truly is our most heart-felt appreciation to each of you, can only be somewhat stunted. That's okay - the trees are happier for it. Instead, you should find a message of thanks accompanied by a few pictures of us and a peek at what your lovely gift is up to these days.

If you haven't seen them already, look to up and to the right! You can also find them at the following links:
Wedding and
Reception

We (actually) plan to keep this place a little more up to date from now on. :)

Hope to see you soon!
With love,
Tia and Alex

6 days and counting

With only days to go, and still a to-do list that's about a mile long, the single most important thing stands before all others with conviction, truth and beauty:

It's about what's real.

You know what's real by how long it lasts. Flowers wither away. You know what's real by how pure it feels. White dresses turn yellow. You know what's real by the strength it offers, humbly and with such loyalty. Precious metal rings still need re-polishing. You know what's real by the joy that others also gain. Sweet cakes and thank you cards are noted, admired, and then eaten, thrown away. You know what's real by the inspiration it brings, calling you, with honesty, to higher vistas. Slow love songs and speeches eventually become out-dated. You know what's real by the love it provides, even if there are tears in your eyes. Especially when there are tears in your eyes.

The perfect flower arrangements, the dress that attests to your personality, the rings that say "forever," the menu complete with petit fours, the songs that mark your first date...all of it is symbolic, an image with meaning. But a symbol, truly, that illustrates what lies underneath. The deepest layer - what is real.

IKEA Man, I love you.

I went to IKEA one day with my mom to check on a few things for the both of us, and accidentally set my "Wedding Planner" notebook down as I paid for the solitary item I bought. I forgot to pick it up again, apparently. I forgot the notebook of all things righteous and holy in this world, at the check-stand.

If you're confused as to the depth of my meaning when I say, "I almost lost my wedding planner notebook!" then please, please, go talk to the IKEA Man. Either that, or imagine a time when you've felt complete, ridiculous loss, like the time your Spanish project got erased from your laptop's hard drive the day before it's due after a power surge (your mom told you to get a surge-protected power strip). All you can say is, "This isn't good."

When I returned to the store the very next day, having realized when my mom and I got home that my notebook was no where to be found (I even checked under my seats - a place I don't go often), I was directed to the Lost and Found department which sits behind the large black "Employee Only" doors. I looked around as I entered, donning the most reassuring look that I could muster for any other IKEA employees passing by. The IKEA Man I speak of sat behind a windowed wall and was wearing a reassuring suit of blue and yellow. He saw my approach and popped his head through the window asking, "How can I help ya, ma'am?"

"I'm looking for a notebook?!" I replied uncertainly. "It's gray and says, 'Wedding Planner' on the front?!"

"Ahhh, yes," IKEA Man replied. "That one's definitely here. Found it this morning."

A sigh of relief breathed through my tense limbs!

IKEA Man scanned a list back at his desk and then wheeled over in his blue IKEA chair to a substantial metal file cabinet. Searching through the multitude of cell phones, car keys, children's toys and other notebooks, he pulled out a simple spiral one, gray in color, with the words "Wedding Planner" scribbled on the front with Sharpie.

"I know just what this is all about!" IKEA Man said, as he laid the precious thing into my outstretched hands. I scanned it's cover and pulled it close. "My daughter just got married a month ago, and she did all this sorta planning, too. Can't imagine loosing your notebook!"

"I know," I said to the IKEA man, "I know! Thank you." These were the only words I could utter, but they were filled with sincere appreciation for his understanding, and gratitude for whoever hired the blessed man!

"Good luck, ma'am!" he said to me as I walked back out through the "Employee Only" labeled doors.

"A girl doesn't need luck," I thought to myself. "She just needs her notebook."