Thursday, September 23, 2010

San Francisco post 3

I've been here almost a week - cannot believe it! Not quite feeling like home yet, though.

Last night was a time to sing at Lake Merced church. The group was small, but fellowship was great. Nathanial, a young single guy, taught the group several new songs. Some of us knew them already, so the rest learned them quickly. I think it speaks well that everyone hung around for a while to visit some more, laughing together a lot. The lone visitor seemed to very much enjoy the service. She hasn't been connected to a church for some time, but wants to begin again with her teen daughter. The brothers and sisters made her feel very wanted. I think she's found her home.

Airiel got her hair done yesterday, so she thought today would be a good time for the baby to arrive - made sense to her, but not, apparently, to Eden. She's still a no-show. Seeing that her toe nails needing trimming, Airiel thought to do it herself. And she did accomplish it, eventually. First she had to call on her past gymnastics training and the various positions thereof because for some strange reason she couldn't simply bend over and clip, clip, clip. Not only did she have difficulty reaching those toes; she couldn't even see 'em! I think at point she resembled a pretzel but by George, she did it!! Neat toe nails.

Airiel, the children and I got out early to shop today. Well, 10 o'clock is fairly early. After finding several items at T. J. Maxx we stopped for lunch at Daphne's, a Greek cafe. The hummus and pita bread, Greek salad, veggie pita melt, and good ole french fries were wonderful!

Conrad and I were checking out the purses later in Ross's (remarkably like our Marshall's), when he remarked loudly, "These purses smell bad." Then He added in a very small, quiet voice, "They smell like poop." His large, round brown eyes were a mite apprehensive, but I ignored his use in public of a private word. Since my nose was useless because of a cold, I trusted his verdict, and scooted right on by.

It's completely delightful to hear the kids asking when getting up from a nap, "Is Granmama still here?" Then upon seeing me, running toward me and shouting, "Granmama! Granmama!" Or, "I want Granmama to ... pull up my pants, fix my oatmeal, sit by me, etc." Nectar for the soul.

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