sore thumb

Here we are back in Chengdu. There is no sky. There's no definition to it. No clouds, no sun, nothing. It's just a low grey. So, I just hold out hope that this too shall pass. Madeleine and I are both stuck at a 4am wake up call. Phil and Lily seem totally adjusted to the time zone change. Madeleine was so wide awake this morning. She just talked and talked to me at around 5:15am. If she wasn't so cute and cheerful (and I was also wide awake) I would have been annoyed with her non-stop monologue about taxi drivers, cavities, all-night movie watching, jet-lag and delicious bread. I wish I could just blow all this smog away and look forward to a blue skied, spring, Saturday. Instead, I'm trying not to get too negative and dwell completely in my Lord. Sighhhh, this is hard.

There's a shop called Daily Grind in New Philadelphia, OH. I like it so much. I've been there twice and yesterday was one of them. I had lunch (which was delicious) and read a Grisham that I'm really enjoying (Painted House). The coffee is good and the food great but what I might like best is the clientèle. There was a chubby mom in a low-cut shirt with her chubby baby and her grandmother who both ordered sandwiches, ice cream and diet Pepsi. A white farmer with a John Deere hat and a black business man shared a table and ate Tomato Basil Bisque. A table of well-dressed middle aged white ladies sat around a large formica table laughing, eating and drinking espresso. Three college aged people drank cup after cup and finally switched to ice water. My favorite was a large white man in bib overalls who walked with a limp, carried a hardback Grisham and told me he couldn't put it down. That's what a coffee shop should be like. If you like coffee, good food or a

Every evening now for over a week around 10 pm, I heat up a heat packet in the microwave. Then I sit and watch the end of a show - House Hunters, Property Virgins, Holmes on Homes, Man vs Wild- with the packet on one of 7 spots of my body. Tonight it was on my left thigh, outer side. The packet heats up my skin and gets it ready for my shot. After about 5 minutes of sitting, I say, "Phil are you ready?" He says, "Yes" gets up and gets my autoject bag and sharps container. We head downstairs to our bedroom. Sometimes we forget the icepack in the freezer so Phil runs back up and gets that and wraps it in a kitchen towel. I lie on the bed while Phil loads the syringe filled with medicine in to the autoject . One of us cleans my skin with an alcohol square that came with my syringes. We let it dry. We both agree on the spot to inject and then Phil says, "Ready?". I look away and "click", I've been shot. I'm usually the one who pick

I'm sitting on the back porch this morning. It's about 60F and the sun rising on my right has been lovely. Birds are having a hay day with this morning and I'm feeling it too. It's at this moment that I feel dread about returning to Chengdu. Uhgg. In my mind and in my heart, China is what I call home. It seems like it should be because that's where my bed is and most of my clothes. That's where I spend most of my time. It's the currency that I've been converting US dollars in to while here to figure out money's true value. It's where Phil and I have spent the majority of our married lives. It's where Lily was born. But as I sit here this morning and as we played at the park yesterday I felt and I feel like this is home. This is where I understand small talk and where everyone knows that apple pie is something to smile about. I don't have to explain why the smell of someone grilling makes people feel content and happy. This is