Fruit flies and time

Every now and then (and I mean every now and then), Josh shares something very wise, drawing on an obscure knowledge of ancient religious sects or training in pastoral counseling. Last time, it was Koine Greek applied to fruit flies.

We were having a pint (or the somewhat lacking American version of one) at the Cottage Bar in Grand Rapids on Saturday evening when a few bothersome fruit flies fluttered around my face. As I fruitlessly (sorry, couldn't resist) swatted in the general direction of their drunken flight paths, I was instantly transported to the perpetually-fruit-fly-full Tilley's, my "work pub" in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, chatting with coworkers, drinking British ale (probably Deuchars IPA), enjoying the well-worn Englishness of it all. But I wasn't there, I was here, in a smoke-filled American bar, a New Holland amber in hand. My eyes smarted with tears.

And that frustrated me. It has been three days shy of seven months since I left England, so why should it still illicit these emotions, for both myself and Josh, as I soon discovered?

Now comes the wisdom. Josh told me about the two words for "time" in ancient Greek, chronos and kairos. Chronos refers to time as it passes, minute by minute, day by day. Kairos refers to time as it feels, event to event, change to change. We may have left England some chronos ago, and we may have traveled the Mediterranean, driven from South Dakota to New York City, visited a state fair, a holiday fireworks display, and a nephew's saturday morning soccer match, but not a whole lot has happened to progress our lives further, to push us into the next big thing. Kairos is moving awfully slow for us.

With that in mind, I now hope that recent life changes and those predicted for the weeks to come (we'll tell you more about that soon... sorry to be so cyberly absent lately) will do something to replace the heartache for the things we've left or lost. "In times of transition / there is an irresistible urge to look back...", writes Julie Chen in an exquisite book I saw recently. I think (hope?) that such urges lessen as transition comes to fruition.

Funny Photo Friday:

Checking our UK bank accounts and moved the last of our savings to checking. We heard 'nil' used our whole time abroad, but this is the first time it's shown up in a bank account!

Funny Photo Friday: I think they are a little optimistic

This is taken from from the owner's manual of our Citroen Saxo. Don't forget we are talking about a car with a 1.1 liter engine (maybe the size of a basketball), that didn't like going over 75 without overheating, and whose brakes worked just enough to avoid ramming the car in front of you.


I would have loved to see someone try it though.








Just another photo or two to give you a size comparison of the good ol' Saxo.

Missing England

Some time ago, I wrote this about missing New York City:

Sometimes I miss New York as if it were a person. It's as if the city has its own character and disposition and certain things (scenes/actions/encounters/events) remind me of this. It feels very unlike how I miss "home" home (Michigan). It is neither nostalgic nor wistful nor vague but a distinct sadness that I forget until I am reminded of it.

The same is not true of Durham. England is too unobtrusive, too even-tempered and polite, to cause me to miss its personality. So how, then, do I describe this sense of loss I feel?

Perhaps Durham is for me like a lost hat or a favorite sweater now too worn to wear. It is warm and comfortable, familiar, an easy choice. When I catch myself in the mirror, I am, at times, taken aback by its presence about me. Other times, it fits so well that I forget it's there. Wistfully and with a certain measure of regret, I let it leave me (or let myself leave it), and I am surprised that such bittersweet feelings of tenderness, quite simply but aptly explained with a childish "I feel sad," could develop in a fraction of the time spent wearing other things.

Funny Photo Friday: what you won't find for sale in the paper

We visited Megan's sister in NW Iowa this week and found a few strange things in her newspaper. Actually, we went to the Dairy Dandy and the entire experience was weird, but we didn't bring the camera with us. Too bad. It meant all we could do was laugh at the "Vegetable Burger" on the menu. Meant "for veggie lovers," it came with one beef patty, lettuce and tomato, with the option of making it a double...



We wondered if it meant the meat sandwiches slept around or just the meat...








The "noon lunch" is a little funny, but so are the fact that they serve "taverns" as food. Are there payment plans? (Jennie tells us these are like sloppy joes)

Funny Photo Friday: It means something else here, but still kind of funny...

This one may only be funny to our English friends, but for those of you that aren't quite as up to speed on your British parlance, here is a refresher.

Funny Photo Friday: that's a lot of children to make happy

So it was on the Avenue of Americas (6th), but seriously... seems an awful big title to fill for a park smaller than our old Manhattan apartment.

In NYC.

Funny Photo Friday: when a sweater is not enough

Yup, they were on all four paws. This was most definitely taken in Manhattan.

Funny Photo Friday: American Sizes

Well Starbucks has Tall, Grande, and Venti so why not?

From the Iowa State Fair

Funny Photo Friday

My sister snapped this at a conference center. If only it were always that easy to find a girl, eh, men?