Internship Begins

Madelaine and I have settled into our new 2br house in Coos Bay, OR.  There is way too much going on, but I am loving it.  My supervisor is great, the congregation is great, I'm finding my way around Coos Bay and North Bend.  And, my grey pony, Zoe arrived late on Tuesday night (a couple weeks ago now...).

Not all has been easy and care free, though.  Going back a few months (ok, now over 6), I started dating a young man in Germany.  I knew how difficult it was going to be since I had to return to the US.  Sebastian and I both agreed with Luther, "Auch wenn ich wüsste, dass morgen die Welt zugrunde geht, würde ich heute noch einen Apfelbaum pflanzen."  "If I knew that tomorrow the world would perish, I would still plant an apple tree today."  And so getting on the plane came with many tears.

The week before I returned from Germany, death reared it's ugly head and I lost my Ruffie Hunny.  More tears.  She was 14 and had lived a fabulous Chesapeake life in the country with lots of room to be a dog.  For a bit of reminiscing, see My Ruffie Hunny post from last week.

My Living Room

Then comes the foot deal.  I broke my big toe in 5th grade, yes, sliding on the hardwood floors in my socks.  If you've ever done anything like it, it's great fun...until you can't stop and run into something like the kitchen chair.  Can't really say what all has gone on in my foot since that day.  Perhaps I broke it again...and again...and again.  Perhaps I never let it heal the first time.  In any case, it has bothered me on and off since 5th grade and this spring in Germany it got so bad I could hardly stand it.  It kept me awake at night.  I limped everywhere I went.  But, I still had to run my half marathon.  Turns out, I ran it with a bone chip floating around in the joint at the base of my big toe.  I arrived home to the USA and headed for the doc.  A few X-rays later the doc said, "Yup, it's broken.  And full of arthritis."  That day I had the most painful encounter with a needle I've ever had.  Steroid injection in the toe joint.  How come everyone else gets a local anesthetic for steroid injections and I didn't? OOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHHHH!  When the blood drained from my face and I threatened to pass out (or puke) the doc got all squeamish and ran off.  Sent the nurse back in.  She was nice.  Anyway, I spent nearly 8 weeks in a walking boot before I got fed up with it.  I'm happily riding and walking almost limp-free much of the time, though I'm not running yet.  It is so hard to be still!

Zoe's first Ausflug to Horsfall Beach on the Pacific ocean!

Enough complaining.  These few things have been on my mind so much these first weeks on internship that it's hard to remember everything that has happened.  I have already grown so much though.  I find myself fairly comfortable leading worship (as long as there's no pressure to chant or sing).  I discovered that I absolutely love teaching Confirmation.  Preaching is another story.  Well, not so much the act of giving a sermon, but the writing of it terrifies me.  The second week I preached was so tough that this past week my supervisor gave me a Thursday deadline.  At least this way I won't stare at my computer all day Friday and all day Saturday and for another couple hours Sunday morning, wondering what to do.

Now, the goal is to post more regularly again.  Discipline.
Pax.

My Ruffie Hunny

Thursday, October 4 was the Feast Day of St Francis of Assisi.  In celebration of the life of this animal lover, today, Sunday, October 7, I participated in the leadership of my first "Blessing of the Animals" worship service at Mingus Park in Coos Bay.  Nothing like a service of blessing for so many dogs to bring back memories.  I actually wrote this a couple months ago and never got to posting it. Or perhaps I have been avoiding it because it hurts. In any case, here it is.

A huge part of my life changed on Thursday, July 19.

In the spring of 1998, my parents picked me up from school (7th grade) and said we were going to look at a manure spreader for Bop, my grandpa. That seemed reasonable to me so I asked no further questions. As we pulled into the driveway at this manure spreader place, I said, "Puppies!" and a short time later, "Chesapeake puppies!" Still clueless, I started looking around for the manure spreader...until Mom said, "Pick out the one you want." That day, I took home an 8-week old Chesapeake puppy. Dead grass female. My Ruffie Hunny.

I had been asking for a dog of my own and had been planning what kind of dog I wanted and what qualities it would have. Ruffie ended up meeting very few of those, but what I wanted in a dog changed right along with her. No longer did it matter if she would pull the wagon I tied her to or walk across a board I set up from the back of the truck to the picknic table. She was the star of her "puppy class"... ANYTHING for a bite of hotdog. My Ruffie Hunny.

She was my best friend, though she certainly had her quirks. Throw the ball for her and she would look at you and say, "Go get it yourself, dummy." But a square of bubble wrap would entertain her for...2.7 seconds...until she had frantically popped every bubble and shredded it to tiny bits on the floor. Tie a helium balloon to her collar and she would bounce around the yard after it until she finally pinned it and popped it. Chicken fight? She'd break it up, and was also known to pin the chickens down and rip their feathers out before letting them go again. My Ruffie Hunny.

Then there was the summer sausage. "Yard O Beef" from Sam's Club. She. Ate. The. Whole. Thing. Wrapper. And. All. She smelled like summer sausage for 2 weeks and so did everything that came out of her, solid and vapor, from the front and the back. It took me a long time before I could eat summer sausage again. My Ruffie Hunny.

Chessie smiles. She had a great smile. She smiled when she was happy to see you. She smiled when she knew she was in trouble. She smiled (and sneezed) in your face when it was time to wake up and eat in the morning. My Ruffie Hunny.

And her first water experience. She, just months old, went to the cabin for the weekend and I took her out in the canoe. Not having a clue about water, she jumped out and sank right to the bottom. It was only a few feet deep and the water was clear so I could see where she was. After some flailing, she figured it out and paddled herself to the surface. Then she had to paddle her way home since there was no way I was getting her back in the canoe without capsizing altogether. From then on, she was a water dog. She'd spend hours and hours in the lake by herself, finding sticks and rocks and of course, dead fish. My Ruffie Hunny.

Any stuffed animal that made noise drove her crazy. One time my singing Pooh found himself behind the livingroom couch. When someone sat down rather ungracefully, Pooh started singing and Ruffie couldn't stand it. My Ruffie Hunny.

I have so many memories of her I can't even begin to share them all. She was at the airport when I came home from my first trip to Europe. She kept my room and bed occupied while I was away at college. I always got a smile when I returned home. When I'd go back to school, Mom and Dad would call me to tell me she was carrying one of my stuffed animals around crying and moping.  My Ruffie Hunny.

July 19, 2012. My Ruffie Hunny is gone. We had a great 14 years together and she was a real pill right up until the end. Ornery, hard headed, stubborn Chessie that she was.  My Ruffie Hunny.

Pax.