Happy Father's Day, Dude.

I had a wonderful evening at Rock the Garden last night and while I was lying down to sleep I found Fresh Prince of Bel Air on TBS. Watch this 3-minute clip from the episode I watched and you won't be surprised that my pillow was filled with tears as I slept.

Today is Father's Day and at this point in my life, with the job that I have and the neighborhood I'm living in, I can't help but feel purely blessed that I get to have the love of both a mother and a father.
My father loves me and wanted me [as he did with all his children].

He was there when I first learned to tie my shoes, ride my bike and drive a car. He took hours of actionless video in my first days in the world. He taught me how to pitch a softball and penciled out x's and o's so I could better understand defense on the football field. He showed me how to weed a garden and snap beans. He carried me into the house when I fell asleep on the car ride home. He taught me how to hang sheetrock, change a tire and mow the lawn. He attempted to teach me how to drive with a clutch and didn't freak out when I ruined the alignment on his car or ran out of gas on the interstate in the middle of Nebraska. He passed on his love for baseball and sunflower seeds. He baptized me with water into the Church and as we watched a Rockies game in 95 degree weather. He reads my blog religiously and helped me study for theology tests and with my math homework.

He helps me move into each new stage of my life physically, mentally and spiritually, and leaves me with a great big hug and confidence in the independence he and my mother have given me. He taught me about our Creator and showed me what a good sermon sounds like. He taught me the importance of justice, peace and service to others. He prays for me, he is proud of me, and most of all, he tells me so.

I am blessed to have such an amazing dad in my life, but I realize today that there are many in this world who must live without [the majority of the children I see each day, in fact]. And so, as I know my father does daily, I pray for those who who have lost or never known their father, that they would have that same support through other relationships in their life, especially from those of us lucky enough to have a dad in our life.

And as for me, I will be forever thankful that I have the love of both a mother and a father.

Happy Father's Day, Dude.

You can't take the honky-tonk outta the girl.

I just returned from a week spent in the small Iowa town I grew up in. I attempted to debrief on my sunny drive home through the corn fields and cow pastures while listening to commercial-free country. I eventually got caught up in the paradox of my transitional/do I even have a permanent address life and gave up, uninspired.

Until I got to work.

We're creating posters for a competition through NAHRO based on the theme, "What Home Means to You". I got a number of landscapes and houses on a hilltop pictures. Then Deon showed me his -- HEY, DEON -- written in large bubble letters.

Well, those are some sweet bubble letters, Deon, I said, but not really what we're going for here.

Let me explain, he said, Home to me is everyone yelling my name...my mom, my friends, my neighbors...because they all want to talk to me or ask me a question or hang out. Get it now?

Got it. Wow, Deon. You are exactly right.

For the past week I had people yelling my name at the OK Cafe, Northwestern's commencement, Barnes and Noble in Kansas City, Pizza Ranch, the Koffie Hoek, Fareway, my parent's kitchen, Dairy Dandy, along the Tulip Festival parade route, on the patio, at our five-year class reunion, at Double D, in Wal-Mart and driving down Frankfort Ave.

I completely agree with Deon, home is where everybody knows your name. And, oh, how sweet it is.

Haiku for LOST.

I'm a fan of LOST.

Dread Tuesday nights without it.
Best acting ev-ah.

Avocados.

For the past month(s) I have basically lived off of the most delicious dish I've ever created. I'm no cook [my family will firmly attest to this], but I bet they'd even be impressed with this one. Basically, I make couscous [which takes literally 5 minutes], cut up an avocado, sprinkle some salt, add kidney beans, walnuts, a little olive oil and the juice of an orange. This covers two meals and it's so good that I eat it over and over again [with slight variations].

All this avocado eating has literally given me dreams about one day owning my own avocado farm. After some research I learned that most avocado farming is about the watering, and knowing how advanced irrigation systems are these days, I think I can handle that. I would bring my crop to the local farmer's market and I'd wear a hat like this:

and it would be awesome.

I believe it was my Yakima, Washington birth that makes my heart lean towards the tree fruit life. The best date I've ever had was spending an afternoon four-wheeling through the apple orchards with Popsicle in hand. [Ah, first grade....you were good to me.]

I love the life in the city and I plan to build a "career" [whatever that looks like] within an urban setting, but when I tire of that [or choose to retire, I suppose] I think the life as a farmer would suit me well.

Plus, I look good in those hats.

Two things.

1. Listen/watch this. It makes me happy. It speaks to me. She is a stud. She is the woman we should all believe we are inside.


2. I'm busy planning summer. All my kids want to go swimming and go to the lake and a water park and go camping. Only problem -- almost all of the girls don't own a swim suit. So I've enlisted the help of my church and family to help me purchase suits for the girls. We looked online and found some good ones under $20 at Kohl's. The girls are super modest and were very concerned that the material would "show our dots". Priceless.

I really love my job.

I get to go roller skating and to the science museum. I get to play UNO and have four-square tournaments. I get hugs and renditions of We are the World. This is a great way to spend a year serving my country.

I've been really busy these past few weeks. Many people have no clue what I do every day, and when I explain that I run an after school program within St. Paul Public Housing, they usually exclaim how lovely it must be to have to work from only 3 to 6 every day. This, however, is not my life.

In any given week, I may have meetings with new residents, other service providers in the community centers, the Minnesota Alliance with Youth, the Wilder Foundation and my many supervisors. I plan daily programming, purchase supplies, snacks, etc., write grants, interview and hire workers for this summer, manage/find volunteers, arrange buses for field trips, help with homework, find ways for kids to serve their community, plan special civic engagement projects, come up with creative art projects and games to play outside...all while developing good moral character within my kids. :)

I've mentioned this before, but without a doubt, my favorite moments are when I find myself with a small group of kids, sitting on the kitchen counters and talking about life. Perhaps I love this so much because growing up, my house was known for its full pantry of Little Debbies, Oreos, you name it. My friends and I spent countless, irreplaceable hours in my kitchen -- it's where we tackled life's biggest issues and answered the biggest questions-- like breaking up with our boyfriends or dying our hair...so important.

Today, with trail mix and Goldfish in hand, the girls and I talked about what life was like back home. For three sisters, home is Thailand, but for a new member of Youth Connections, home is Ethiopia. The sisters talked about the freedom to run around the village in the rain and play in the mud. H, from Ethiopia, laughed and squealed, "No!" when the girls asked if she rode camels everywhere. They all talked about the food they ate, with shared utensils and the two plates the family owned. They all shared their feelings when their names were finally posted and they were able to get on a plane to go to America. The sisters talked about how they cried to be leaving their neighborhood. H said she cried when her two brothers were forced to stay behind. They all detested the food on the plane and giggled when they remembered the Americans speaking English to them as if they were to understand.

Today, Asia and Africa and America came together...sitting on kitchen counters...eating Goldfish.

I wonder if there's room in the national defense budget for Goldfish?

Spring Break is exhausting.

Yesterday another AmeriCorps worker, Kari, and I took 40 kids roller skating.

Today, I took kids to a greenhouse where we planted hot peppers, tomatoes, basil, green onions and marigolds to use in the first community garden at Dunedin. Amanda, our greenhouse hostess, told the kids that it's a good idea to plant foods that complement each other near one another, for example, basil next to tomatoes, etc. She asked the kids, "What should we plant hot peppers next to?" Almost in unison, they exclaimed, "Noodles!"

Tomorrow I'll be hiding 180 plastic Easter eggs.
[And waiting for my family to arrive for the weekend!]