Thursday, May 27, 2010
Did you know that Switzerland celebrates the Ascension of Christ as a formal holiday? Pentecost is also a national holiday. Everyone gets the day off of work. This is a hold over from the days when everyone in Geneva was expected to be a Christian or they kicked you out, back in the Middle Ages.
Chris had a four day weekend two weekends in a row! First, Ascension and then Pentecost.
With or without Christian holidays, Europe knows how to take vacation days.
Monday, May 24th, Pentecost, was an idyllic day. When it's sunny in Geneva, the parks and every grassy little spot in the city fill up with families on blankets with a picnic, singles with a book or chatting with friends, games of soccer or Frisbee. Chris and I took Bear to the Eaux Vives park, three blocks away. We tied him to his stake, spread our own blanket and played our favorite board game for several hours. This outdoor girl was in heaven.
After a while we collected our things, dropped Bear off at the apartment and went roller blading.
We quickly abandoned the roller blades for our bikes due to sore muscles and bumpy asphalt. We biked quite a distance around both sides of the lake. Halfway through the day we stopped for Gelato and were met with another Geneva surprise. Every Gelato place had a line outside the shop. A ten minute wait at one place and a twenty minute wait at the other shop. We opted for the ten minute wait.
The day was so beautiful and charmed, I didn't want it to end. I didn't become depressed at the end of it, but only because I'm getting the impression there will be many more days like this in Geneva.
Six days ago our stuff finally made it across the high seas and was delivered in tact, in through our window. What efficiency. It's common in Geneva to use a lift to hoist the boxes and furniture up and through a window or balcony door. This is because of the many buildings without elevators and even in the buildings with elevators, the elevators are much too small to fit furniture. Besides, it saves the workman a major ache and pain.
After all the boxes were hoisted and placed in rooms, a friendly man from Italy helped me unpack my kitchen. Two other men helped Chris unpack the remaining rooms. What service! They weren't joking when they said this company was "door to door" service.
I have the photos you requested. I took pictures of every room before the shipment arrived. This way you can see a clean slate. Boxes are now cluttering the scene. I'll take more photos later when every room is finished and cute as a button.
Our apartment building from the outside. We are the top floor balcony.
Our front door!
You've stepped through the front door and are looking down the hallway. I must warn you... the walls are going to be very bare and very white. That will be remedied soon enough.
When you step through the front door, you see our only bathroom on the left. This room has everything except a toilet. The toilet has it's very own room at the other end of the apartment!
If you walk into the bathroom, this sink is hiding around the corner of the shower curtain.
Such a dreadful picture, but I had to show you the strangest thing that is common in Geneva. The shower heads are placed in the middle of the tub instead of at the end of the tub. It's the most awkward thing to stand with the curtain in your face and the spray hitting the curtain. What are they thinking? Chris is even more uncomfortable because the shower head is too low for his 6' 2" height. I take a lot of baths. The tub is a decent size.
Leaving the bathroom and heading down the hallway.
The toilet has it's very own room at the end of the hallway. Notice the flushing system on the wall, different than anything I've seen in the U.S.
Backing up and entering the first room on the left... the guest room. Empty at this time except for my easle. Notice the hot water heater behind the easle. Every room has one.
Our Master Bedroom on the right side of the hallway. Fortunately, while we waited 2 months for our stuff, the apartment came with a bed and dresser. We also got on the train and took a trip to IKEA.
If you step into the room and turn around you'll see a built in closet. There are 4 of these in the entire apartment. It's not much closet space by U.S. standards but it's far more than most Genevans have. We have the old building to thank for this.
On the other side of our bedroom door... I'm not sure what the purpose of this is, or what it's covering. But it's pretty.
Walking across the hall to the kitchen. Again, this table came with the apartment.
Left wall of kitchen. We don't have a dishwasher, oven, or dryer. It's actually common in Geneva to have a dishwasher and oven, this apartment just didn't come with it. If we stay in this apartment, we'll probably buy those things, along with a dryer that will stack on top of that washer.
I don't mind doing dishes by hand, but look at the arrangement. It's awkward. Where do the dirty dishes stack? And where do the wet dishes get put to dry?
The dirty dishes are still awkward on the drain board up top. I can't let them stack for long. The clean dishes are in the photo below, on the floor. I realize it's a small complaint, but it's once you've HAD a dishwasher, if you see what I mean. =)
Turning around in the kitchen to head back out, you finally see the refridgerator. This is a small fridge by U.S. standards, but ENORMOUS by Geneva standards. We have many friends with waist high fridges and no freezer. We are very happy to have a freezer. To be honest, our habits have changed and now this fridge/freezer seems large. We never fill it like we would have in the U.S. Food prices here are high. We only buy what we are going to quickly and thoroughly consume.
Walking back across the hall to the livingroom. Most of you saw this photo in the previous post.
Last, but not least, we step out on the balcony, looking to the right, down the road to Lake Geneva.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Four weeks have passed since I returned, disheveled, from the Middle East. I’ve settled back into my previous routine in Geneva and am loving every minute of it. There is a time and a season for everything and I’m content that this is my time to be home… home meaning “with my husband.” After moving so many times I have very little concept of “home” being a place, except maybe Virginia, the land of my birth. Our time in Geneva is an interesting thing, however. We don’t intend to stay here forever, maybe only a few years, and yet, I feel a sense of belonging here for however long it lasts, more than any other place I’ve lived as an adult. It’s an amazing feeling… to belong.
As I write this, I’m snuggled up under my covers. It’s chilly outside and I've opened the windows to air out the apartment. We’re on the fourth floor, but with windows open I can hear the sounds of the city. Workmen just below me, laying a new sidewalk, clanging and banging away, cars picking up speed and fading into the distance, buses, motorcycles (so many motorcycles!) and sirens. Of course sirens. What would a city be without sirens? I’ve actually come to love the sounds of the city. It makes me feel connected, a part of something larger than myself, something that doesn’t need my help to keep running when I run out of steam.
I don’t, however, love it when the guys in the next apartment keep us awake at night, talking loudly on the phone. They run a call center of some kind over there. Slowly but surely I’m learning to tune them out.
I also don’t love it when I’m walking up four flights (90 stairs!) to reach our beautiful apartment. It’s an old building with no elevator. In the beginning I found myself uttering MANY bad words every time I huffed and puffed my way to the top. I’m getting more in shape with every step and getting used to it. The bad words have gone. Hatred has turned to mere dislike.
Overall I do love our apartment in this old building with 12 foot high ceilings, crown molding and plenty of natural light. At some point I will want a house again, with a yard and a garden, but in the meantime I’m content with my window boxes. Doesn’t every woman dream it would be lovely to plant window boxes in Europe? Well, I’m doing it! I have boxes for every window of the house and a few for the balcony. Gladiolas and Red Lilies are growing from bulbs, tomatoes and basil growing from seeds.
Take a look at my tomato plants, still quite fragile. I’ll keep them indoors most of the time until they get stronger and I’ll take picture again for you when it all blooms. It’s just getting started.
Here’s Bear, soaking up the sun in our empty living room. Aren’t those double doors splendid? If you walk out those two sets of double doors onto the ever so narrow balcony and look to the right, you’ll be looking down a hallway of buildings and in the distance, two blocks away, you’ll see Lake Geneva, the lake with the swans and the fountain jet. You can’t see the swans from the balcony, but it’s nice to know they are there and we’re so close.
I haven’t showed you the famous Jet d’eau yet. Here it is!
Spring came to Geneva while I was in Lebanon. Remember this tree I showed you back in December?
Leaves are, indeed, more flattering to its figure.
A statue from my beloved Eaux Vives Park, just 4 blocks away.
All sense of “belonging” aside, I must admit, the last month, since returning from Lebanon, has brought a bit of “homesickness” for the U.S. and family. Getting internet and phone set up at the new apartment has been slow in coming and I’ve been forced to face how far away I really am and experience a bit of the isolation that settlers felt when they moved to a new country before we invented phone and internet. I don’t think I would agree to a move like this if it weren’t for phone and internet. I’m not a settler. I’m not fleeing my country, I don’t FULLY belong in Europe and I don’t need adventure bad enough to leave my family without regular contact. Thank God for these modern conveniences which allow us to travel farther and see new places. Thank God my phone is finally working.
Two more days and our shipment of belongings will finally arrive from the U.S. After 4 months without our stuff, it’s going to be like Christmas morning, unpacking everything. Oh, to bounce and sit on my comfy yellow couch!............
Every once in a while I sit in a cafe, looking out the window and watch sunlight caressing a person sipping coffee on the other side, and I'm temporarily swept away by the romance of it all. But then again, I've had these moments in America too. The romance of life is everywhere. I guess there's just something about the spirit of Europe that makes us pause more often and notice the daffodils. I just hope I can carry this spirit with me when I return.
Monday, May 3, 2010
It feels good writing to you again. It’s been a long time.
We’re in the new apartment, but more importantly, I spent two weeks in Lebanon and got stuck for 4 extra days because of the ash cloud. You all know about the ash cloud, I presume? More about that later…
I’m home safe and there’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been holding off writing to you because I don’t know what to tell you. I’m scared I can’t capture the last month for you on paper, in mere words and pictures. After a week of procrastination I’m finally sitting down in faith, trusting the words will come.
I went to Lebanon with a group of six people, brought together by a relief organization based here in Geneva. The primary purpose of our trip to Lebanon was to observe the relief efforts already happening by native Lebanese and see how we can assist, both while we were there for 9 days as well as form an ongoing, long distance relationship in the future. The relief efforts are various. Among many projects, the Christians in Lebanon are distributing food and clothing to war refugees and seekers of religious asylum, praying with these people, encouraging them, attempting to bring a smile.
They also distribute clothing to gypsy camps. My favorite photo came from one of these camps. I’m touched by the way this brother cares for his little sister.
Brother and baby sister is my favorite photo of the trip.
My favorite “moment,” was at the end of a house visit. We took a box of food to a house full of Iraqi refugees. We visited, played with the children, drank strong Arabic coffee and listened to the adults tell us their escape story. Towards the end of the visit the oldest woman of the group, perhaps in her fifties, was in tears as she spoke of her son. I can’t remember whether the son was missing or in jail or what, but he was a victim of the war. That much I gathered from the translator. All I know is that my heart went out to her. The leader of our group suggested we pray before we leave. We all stood up and I went over to her to hold her hand while we prayed. This prompted our leader to suggest we all join hands in prayer. Realize this… we were with a family of dedicated, practicing Muslims. The woman I held hands with was in a full hijab head dress. I don’t know about you, but I never expected that a Muslim would be willing to pray with a Christian. Especially not the men. But they did. We stood there and my French/British friend prayed for the group. He prayed in English and a child snickered (unused to prayer in another language) and was swiftly and quietly reprimanded by his mother, who told him to show respect.
My cultural assumptions were cast aside right and left.
The following two photos are of us shopping and preparing the food boxes for house visits.
I went to Lebanon with several head scarves in my luggage expecting to wear them every day. As it turns out, Lebanon has quite a bit of religious freedom compared to surrounding countries in the Middle East. The only time we needed to wear a head scarf was when we entered a mosque as a tourist.
We had time for several educational and tourist-y things.
On a Sunday, we toured the great Cedars of Lebanon, noted in Isaiah and Amos for their strength and height.
Overall the trip was unforgettable, a spectacular experience, a true adventure and success. But I wouldn’t be in keeping with the spirit of this blog if I didn’t share with you my less than glorious moments.
Please meet the Lebanese Rooster…
These roosters are EVERYWHERE. And they make their rooster calls ALL DAY LONG and ALL NIGHT!!! We’re not just talking about one mentally disabled bird, we’re talking about a country FULL of them. I’m thinking they take shifts so they can take turns sleeping. They are in the city as well as the country. During the first part of the trip we were in a small village in the country. We were inconvenienced, but not completely surprised by the presence of roosters out there. Fortunately, some of us had earplugs and wore them to get a decent night’s sleep. Nonetheless, all of us would have been thrilled to kill one of those roosters if we could have justified it.
I’m thankful for God’s mercy when we are weak. I used to think that the children of Israel complaining about eating the same food (manna) for 40 days in a row was a pathetic story full of people of miserable character. I regret to admit that after eating pita, parsley and hummus for 7 days, I was very tired of it and was looking for every opportunity to have ANYTHING other than these ingredients. It didn’t matter to me what kind of food, just something different. At the start of the trip I was eager to experience Lebanese food and it was, indeed, delicious. But any delicious thing, after repeating it morning, noon and night becomes more difficult to appreciate. Perhaps I’m a spoiled, pathetic and ungrateful person. And perhaps I should have more compassion for the wandering children of Israel.
On the other hand, Richard and I never tired of this little fruit, pictured below. We pulled it directly off the trees and ate it everywhere we went. We asked as many people as possible, but never learned the English translation for its name. We suspect there is no translation because we don’t think this fruit exists anywhere else. It’s like a very large version of a yellow cherry, but different. Tangy and sweet.
Finally, we must speak of the ash cloud.
I suppose everyone has heard of the Volcano that irrupted in Iceland and shut down all airports in Europe. We were unable to fly to Geneva on the scheduled day and had to wait indefinitely. Those were the longest and most difficult days of the trip. At the beginning of the trip I was advised to go with an attitude of flexibility. I figured I was pro at flexibility. My flexibility was not truly tested even once during the first 9 days we were in Lebanon, during the time we were “supposed” to be there. Each day I had no clue what the agenda was, but I was along for the ride and a happy, adventuresome camper. It was at the end of the trip, when I was tired and ready to go home that my flexibility was tested. When I learned that the airports were closed and we didn’t know when we could return, I went back to my room and cried my eyes out. I wanted to go home to see my husband and I wanted to go now. It was a claustrophobic feeling to be stuck in the Middle East. It’s not like being stuck in the U.S. or even in Europe where you can rent a car and simply drive home. Driving through certain Middle Eastern countries is not an option.
After 4 days our travel agent found us a flight to Rome, which opened before Geneva. We flew to Rome, spent a night there and took a train to Geneva the next day. In the end, it was a little gift from God. Rome was magical and the train ride from Rome to Geneva is surreal. The Alps surround Geneva and I see them all the time, but the most beautiful view of the Alps I’ve seen yet swept past us at 300 kilometers per hour through northern Italy. I can’t wait to go back with Chris.
By far, the most treasured thing I will take away with me from this trip is the friendships that formed between us travelers.
During the first part of the trip we were in an empty house in a country village, sleeping on mattresses on the floor. We didn’t have hot water and we were truly roughing it together. During the second part of the trip, we were given separate rooms and our own hot showers at a Catholic Convent/Retreat Center. It was good timing. We were tired and these creature comforts were welcome. But we didn’t readily welcome being separated into private rooms with locks. How can I describe to you the bond that forms between friends, way outside their comfort zone, on a journey of discovery together? How can I describe the laughter and the joy? I can’t. It’s something you just have to experience for yourself.
There is so much more I could say about my time in Lebanon. Perhaps you have questions and this will give me an idea of where to go with my next blog post.
One last thing before I go….. We made a new friend in Lebanon. He was our tour guide the first 4 days. He showed us the cedars and the refugee homes. He said a very dear thing to me. He said, “Kara, I see your family in your face.”
I’ve never heard anyone say such an odd thing, but I told him those words mean a lot to me. I live much farther away from my family than I prefer and it means a lot to know that they are somehow with me in spirit.
My father took a trip to several foreign countries in 1988. I was 10. He was gone 2 months and came back with many stories which stayed with me for a lifetime. I know his trip and his experience played a part in my inspiration to go to Lebanon.
Please pray for the ongoing work in Lebanon. Pray for the believers who live there day in and day out, year after year, and are present and faithful even when conflicts and wars break out. We were there during a time of relative peace. But Lebanon has a long and recent history of conflicts.
Pray for the refugees who are in Lebanon right now, seeking refuge from many corners of the Middle East.
Pray for me as I launch a project to raise money for Lebanon. Inshallah, (God willing) I will paint the more beautiful aspects of Lebanon (poppies and waterfalls) and sell these paintings to raise money for refugees and others in need.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Today is Friday, March 26, and there remains exactly one week until we move into our new apartment. Perhaps next week I'll have photos of the apartment for you.
It's a busy and exciting time for us. In one week we move into our new (and more permanent) apartment and in 2 weeks I will be going on a mission trip to Lebanon while Chris is putting in long hours at work. I'm buying head scarves and other unique items for this trip. I'll be traveling with 4 individuals. Among other things, our focus will be to distribute food and clothing to those in need. I could not be more excited about this trip. I've never been on a mission trip of this sort before and it's a dream come true for me. When my sister and I were little we had certain prayers we repeated every night. One of our repeated prayers went something like this... "Please help all the little boys and girls have food and toys and clothes..." (Said in the cutest of munchkin voices.) Well, at 31 years old I finally have the opportunity to visit some of those little boys and girls in person and distribute the "food and toys and clothes." Like I said... it's a small part of my dream come true.
Trust me. If the group I'm traveling with permits it, I will have pictures to show you when I return.
In the meantime, let me catch you up on the last 3 weeks...
Two weekends ago Chris and I went skiing for the second time since moving to Europe. This time we borrowed a friend's car and went to Verbier, Switzerland. We can now say we've skiied in the French Alps AND the Swiss Alps. It was a breathtakingly beautiful day.
My cutie pants husband.
From now on it's chair lifts and 4 -6 person gondolas for me. The insane cable car operators manage to squeeze 100 + people on one cable car... all standing up, holding our skis, tips of our skis and other peoples skis in our faces along with your neighbor's bad breath. Incredibly clausterphobic. What if the cable car broke down and stopped for repair for several hours? What if mass panic broke out?
No thanks.
Fortunately there are options. It was a gorgeous day and we opted for other modes of transportation the remainder of the day.
We returned home tired, happy and VERY sore.
Last weekend we took a quick, last minute trip to Atlanta and back. Our newly finalized visas had to be stamped by the Swiss Consulate downtown. Apparently "quick trips" across the ocean are now a commonplace affair for me, but I don't think our bodies are intended to do this on a regular basis. Not unless we take several days to recover at the end of every trip. I have that luxury. Chris doesn't. I don't know how he does it.
After getting our visas stamped, our seemingly silly errand turned into a special visit to Athens, GA (an hour from Atlanta) to visit my sister, Kellie, who is attending UGA. We attended her vocal and theatrical performance in an opera called The Merry Widow. We decorated the driveway with chalk for Easter, Chris made dinner for us and we baked cookies. It was a wonderful girlie time. Chris was a chum to tag along. In truth, he desperately needed the down time from work. While Kellie and I were "playing," he was reading or watching March Madness. He misses American sports on TV.
Speaking of missing the U.S... I truly didn't think I was missing my homeland at all. I was having so much fun discovering Europe. One step inside Krogers, Target and Michaels and I was in heaven. I had a list of things to stock up on... things that are painfully expensive or can't be found here, and our U.S. friends who live in Europe put in their own requests as well. My most precious purchases were brown sugar and crisco so I can make soft, chewy, real American cookies! Who would have thought they wouldn't have those over here? I guess they're so focused on the pastries, they've missed the cookies.
Anyway, I stepped into those enormous, big box stores and breathed a sigh of relief and contentment. I'm amazed by this. I really didn't think I gave three toots about these stores. And deep down, I don't. But I guess it's the familiar that was so relaxing. To be able to shop with ease, everything written in my own language, navigating a store layout I have memorized, and finally... not subconciously worried that at any moment I might break a law or cultural faux pas I knew nothing about.
I left the U.S. and my sister a little depressed. It was harder to say goodbye than I expected. I miss my sister and adventures are tiring. I miss my home in the U.S. and I suppose this is a good thing. Someday, when I return, I'll be glad to return. For now, I'm content to be back in Switzerland, enjoying the adventure. It took a few days and a few good nights sleep, but I'm back in my Europe routine.
Returning, Spring has fully come to Geneva in the mere 5 days we were gone. Delicious. I open my windows every day now. It's 20 degrees warmer than last month. It still rains, but the sun is out more often and the air smells like things are getting ready to bloom.
Now I'm off to watch re-runs of MASH on my laptop with Chris, cozy this evening in our hotel apartment. Time to rest. The next few weeks are going to be busy.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Today I ran.
This may seem common enough to you, but it is very unusual for me. I rarely run. Nonetheless, I am an active person, always pursuing health and exercise. I'm not blessed with the ability to stay thin without effort.
For years I've stayed away from running and I've turned to yoga because running exaserbates my unique pains and yoga keeps me stretched out and the pain minimized. I also don't like running, so it wasn't a hard lifestyle choice to make.
But for some unaccountable reason I lay on my bed last night with a burning desire to run.
So today I ran. I abandoned the worry of pain and I ran. It was a perfect day for it. It's windy and cold, but the sun came out for the first time in days. I bundled up, put Bear on his leash and we took off running. We walked/jogged through the city down to the lake and then ran along the lake. Excessive wind caused waves to crash along the rocks to our left.
I had a strong need to feel alive. To feel my lungs burning and expanding, cement pounding underneath me. Maybe Bear and I will both be in pain tonight, but at least we'll be more alive and happy.
Perhaps we won't run tomorrow. Perhaps we'll do something else. But today running met the need.
Did you know the ancient Hebrew name for LORD was Y-H-V-H? It has evolved over the years to be pronouced by many of us as Yahweh. The ancient rabbis believed that these letters were actually breathing sounds and were essentially unpronounceable because they were a series of vowels.
What a beautiful revelation. The name of God is the sound of breathing.
This brings new depth to the passage in Acts 17 that says many seek and grope for Him, though He is not far from each one of us. For in Him we live and move and exist.
And new depth is brought to the song we sing, "This is the air I breathe."
As I ran, I breathed. And I reveled in His name.
How can so many eyes and minds be darkened, unaware of His presence when the very breath in their lungs is from Him and the sound of His name is on their lips? Another mystery too big for today.
We found an apartment. Actually, God handed us an apartment. We have not even formally begun the search for an apartment. The rental availability rate in Geneva is currently less than 1%. It typically takes 3 to 6 months for an apartment to become available. We had not even begun the search because our visas were not finalized and there's no point in looking at apartments if you don't have the legal paperwork to jump on one when you find the one you want. Furthermore, it costs several thousand dollars (Swiss franks) to pay a relocation company (real estate agent) to help you find an apartment. No sense paying for it until you're ready to use it.
Only a few days after our visas came through, Chris came home and said that a guy at the office is offering us his apartment. He is currently sub-leasing it to another couple, but they are moving out at the end of March and we are welcome to take their place. This apartment meets all the criteria we are looking for..... two bedrooms, a small balcony, old building with charm, lots of natural light, close to the park and the lake. Unbelieveable. God has spared us the money and exhaustion of apartment hunting. Unbelievable.
I also have to tell you about another apartment that was offered to us when we first arrived. It was in the building next door to Chris' office. Great! we first thought. Close to work, no commute. Furthermore it had a HUGE balcony. It was someone else's roof top. We could have thrown parties out there. But as soon as you step onto that balcony you realize why we turned it down. I could see Chris' office, his desk and his office mate from the balcony and they could see me. There was a whole wall of office windows. NO WAY was I going to have the freedom to lay out and sunbathe. Not that I ever do. I'm not into that, but it's the principle of the thing. A person needs to be able to chill out on their balcony without work friends playing Peeping Tom. No, it just wasn't going to do. We respectfully declined.
We'll be moving into our brilliant apartment with the itsy bitsy balcony in roughly 4 weeks.
There is one drawback to our perfect apartment. It's on the 4th floor with no elevator. This is common for many of the buildings in Geneva. No elevator. I'll be climbing 90 stairs 3 times a day to take the dog out. I'll be climbing 90 stairs with groceries in tow once a week.
Hence, the arrival of the popular Geneva "trolley," a bag with wheels for pulling groceries.
I love the location of our future apartment for another reason... it's right around the corner from a new friend of mine. Her name is Bethany. Actually, some of you already know her from the beginning of this story when I met her in December at a work Christmas party.
Speaking of friends, Switzerland seems to be raining friends down upon me. I found it challenging to make friends in the U.S. but here I am experiencing abundance.
Woman in Geneva do not smile at you on the street. That's an American thing. But the woman I've formally met and befriended REALLY know how to laugh. We've all heard that laughter is the best medicine and it's so true. Americans could use a dose of laughter. I know I, for one, have been in need of it for years and I haven't had enough yet.
My days are full of long walks, good friends, and work in my cozy apartment in front of the window.
Here you can see my new easle. Yesterday was cloudy when I took this picture, but it's a very bright spot when the sun comes out.
Right now I'm working on a painting of the Voyager of the Dawn Treader from the Narnia series, for a young guy back in the U.S. who has been absorbed by this story since childhood. The painting will be of a ship (The Voyager) with the head of a dragon.
So far, the sky is done and the ocean water is in progress. I will show it to you when it is finished.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! (Today, March 5th, is my parents 33'd anniversary.)
33 years ago, two Virginians fell in love.....
;;
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