dresses, limes and summer

My mother-in-law gave me a stack of fabric that she wasn't using and one of the pieces was orange with limes and little red hearts. How perfect is that for a lovable mexican baby?!

It's also a Butterick B5107 size newborn but I changed some stuff up. (Note: this is NOT a newborn size.) It has only one tier for the skirt, I added a contrast strip below the bodice and I changed the back closure so I didn't need any notions. Unfortunately I didn't really think the whole "how is the lining going to attach to itself" and created a problem that made the dress take forever to make because I left it draped over the sewing machine and tried not to think about it. Anyway it's done and if I do say so myself it doesn't look all that bad unless you get real close! So please stay approximately 2' away from your computer while looking at these photos. Thanks.

(I go outside to look for something to take pictures of the dress on and realize there's this perfect and completely random hook in the side of the garage. Also a wind chime?? Never noticed that before!)

musings from the pavement

I noted in my last posting that usually a Spanish speaker is paired with a non Spanish speaker. On the last day of delivering there was evidently some confusion higher up in the ranks as I was teamed with my baby sister, Shawna, whom I share an apartment with and whom knows the same amount of Spanish as I do. None.

You ask, “How do you communicate with a happened upon Spanish person when you know squat in the same language?” My old standby method is to use as many wild hand gestures and wacked out facial expressions as I can dream up. Either this method worked extraordinarily well or it was assumed that we were escapees from an insane asylum and they were just nodding in agreement hoping they could escape our terrible clutches.

Another finely honed skill I have acquired, due to my extensive experience walking the beat in Mexico, is ears with a highly attuned sense of hearing. I can pick up any sort of a noise that could possibly be attributed to that of a roving wild beast (commonly called: ‘dog’). This fine, balmy morning my ears were in action: Dogs to my left down by Shawna’s end of the street. I finished my end and walked jauntily down towards her on the sidewalk. I felt so beautiful! I had actually done my hair that morning plus I was wearing my contacts which allowed me to don (for the very first time) a pair of Christmas present new, large white rimmed sunglasses. Perfecto! I reached Shawna in the midst of contemplating these things (along with many other deep thoughts of much consequence).

”RRRRGGGGGGG, RUFF, GROOOOOWWLLL.” Suddenly, loudly, and in chorus three beasts charge towards me. I panic. My limbs develop a mind of their own, my arms whip up and over the back of my head and my feet surge backwards. My feet miss the sidewalk and land not so squarely on a 45 degree angled curb. I tip. My body is rushing backwards ready to come to an unfortunate end, but with my one pack ab I deftly jerk my body forward so I end up on my knees and knuckles and just nearly kissing the road. One eye is still looking through mirrored sunglasses, the other is very definitely peering above. Even with my mismatched vision I make out my attackers: All three glaring at me from a short distance away.

Behind a firmly shut and locked gate.

I start pondering my living arrangements: Should I inquire at insane asylums??

Mexico and Materialism

A small crew of us just traveled to Guadalajara, Mexico to join 140 others from Canada, the US, Mexico, El Salvador and Venezuela to distribute John 3:16 Seedsowers (www.seedsowersonline.com) text to over 100,000 homes.

Each day all available walkers are split into vans and given a box of packets that include the bible verse and an invitation to gospel meetings. The driver is given a map of his area and his goal is to spread his walkers around in such a way that each home in his area is given a packet in the most efficient way possible.

For the walkers this experience varies greatly depending on who your driver is, who your walking companion is, and which area you have been assigned to. Generally the organizers try to pair a girl with a guy (protection?) and a Spanish speaker with a non Spanish speaker (communication!).

On Wednesday I was paired with an older Mexican gentleman. We were dropped off at the base of a steep hill that had the beginnings of a road up it’s side. The road morphed into a path strewn with rocks and garbage that had no direct heading. The higher we climbed the more humble the dwellings. These homes were shacks made from whatever materials their owners had somehow salvaged: tarps, steel sheeting, rotten plywood, old blankets… Any of them would be able to fit into my apartment kitchen. There was no evidence of electricity, a sewage system or running water.

Near the top of the hill I had to wait while Sergio delivered to a shack a bit out of the way. To my left two little girls in dirt caked party dresses were perched on an old mattress. Each held a female doll of some form and between them lay a Ken doll that was obviously the cause for much consternation! Who would get the Ken for their Barbie? It was interesting watching a scene that I had been party to played out in such surroundings. People are the same no matter what their life circumstances. Each of us have a soul.

When we crested the top of the summit (!?) there was stretched before our eyes an horizon full of shacks. Each containing families and lives of which there is no duplicate. It made us pause.

I’ve been able to see from a distance what poverty is: here at home, in Zambia and in Mexico. It brings into focus what has meaning and what is really important for our existence. It begs me to ask, “Why am I blessed? What is my purpose?” Material goods will not guarantee me a fulfilled life. My life best lived is using what God has blessed me with to bring glory to Him.