Wednesday morning Mom and I went grocery shopping. By the end of the outing, I was wiped out. It was the prices that did it.
Milk: $5.69/gallon
Tortillas: $3.29/dozen
Life Cereal: $5.69
Cheese: $8.99/620g (1.3669 lbs)
Mom was so wonderful and told me that this trip to the grocery store was on her. She could see how overwhelmed I was and banished me to some place far away from the "till" while they were ringing us up. I promise I wasn’t trying, but I heard the cashier say, “That will be $166- Oh, this too?”
All this has made me want to ration food. It has made me think about how we, as North Americans, have way more than our share of the world's food. Don't I have a right to get whatever kind of food I want and to have as much as I want? I demand lots of choices and cheap prices! Hmm... This year could be good for me to think about my right to the world's resources in a different light.
By the way, Evan has taken a liking to powdered milk. Kendall was mixing some for a group we hosted. He wasn't having the best of luck with it and was having problems with it being lumpy. Never fear, though, Evan was there to help. Kendall said that Evan was grabbing the gooey glops of milk and eating them. Now Evan begs for powdered milk.
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Lao-tzu
July 1, 2008
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
Blog Archive
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2008
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July
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- Norseman Festival
- A Bit of Kendall's History
- My Helpers
- Eli Helps
- Always Remember Repellent
- Sandflies/Blackflies: Bites Taken Out of Our Skin
- Strawberry-Picking
- Okay, I Admit It's Really Beautiful Here
- Overheard
- Evan Makes Very Big Fountain
- Different Doorknobs
- Peaceful
- Canoeing
- Guest House
- What Bible School is All About
- P.S.
- Cloudy
- Two Lists
- Evan's first fish!
- Our home
- New Buds!
- "Fish poop spicy!" -Evan
- "This is great!" -Eli
- Breakfast
- Fishing
- Groceries
- Mosquitoes
- “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a singl...
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July
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1 comment:
Hey, you Canadians! We miss you already. Isaac says it makes him kind of sad to look at pics of Eli, but he and Jesse loved the spicy poop story. Nice catch Eli, and happy birthday, Kendall. Love from the Bontragers.-Jen
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