05.01.09
Posted in Reflections on Life in General at 1:30 pm by Lynette
Yesterday, I opened my 3-day garage sale. It poured down rain. I still managed to sell a few items. The highlight of my day, however, was the little old Asian couple.
They wandered in huddled under an umbrella, in the midst of a downpour, and proceeded to pick up and discuss almost every object in my garage–in rapid Chinese, no less. At one point , they crossed the “barrier” of tables into the garage sale world equivalent of the DMZ: The “not for sale” zone. The man started picking up my garden tools. He seemed rather taken with a hoe. I tried politely to let them know that the garden tools were not for sale and pointed to the rest of the items for sale in the garage not in this zone. They both smiled and nodded at me, then picked up the rake. At this point, I realized we had another sort of barrier with which to contend: the language barrier.
They should have had a sign that said “No English Spoken Here” for I would have saved myself a lot of foolish gestures and explanations. I even think (shudder) that I started to speak loudly to them as if they were deaf instead of simply not speakers of my language.
In spite of my repeated actions and shaking of head, the man pulled out the hoe again and, I am not lying, started to hoe some dirt in my yard! I guess he needed to test drive it before purchasing. At this point, my brother, who lives in Florida but was getting a blow-by-blow account via AIM, said to me “Just give him the dang hoe!”
After about 30 minutes of this interaction, they left. It caused me great amusement and my family and I chuckled over the whole experience.
This morning, I put the kids on the bus and was talking to some neighbors when I saw two Asian gentlemen riding bikes pull into my driveway. I could not believe my eyes…it was the same man! This time he brought along what I presume to be his interpreter….a younger man of Asian decent who actually said the word Hello.
The first thing the older man went for? THE HOE. I thought, “OK. This time I will sell it to him, but for what price?” Well, they soon left without asking about it again, so I decided I had escaped a second potential international incident. That is, until 2 pm.
I looked up and saw my friend, the old Asian man, standing in the garage, holding in his hand…..???? Yup.
THE HOE…
AND…
One quarter.
I thought, “Oh no, old man. You are not going to put me through this three times and get my hoe for a measly quarter.”
I smiled and shook my head, held up a $1.00 bill and said “One dollar.”
He smiled and pulled out a 2nd quarter, offering 50 cents.
I smiled and shook my head. I held up 4 fingers and said “4 quarters.”
He laughed and pulled out two more quarters.
I had won! I negotiated with a little old Asian man who didn’t speak English and held out for more money. That, I think, was the hardest earned dollar I’ve ever made!
Oh well…at least we are still friends with China…at least in my neighborhood!
Although my neighbor pointed out to me that now I am a marked woman: they will come back every time I have a garage sale and try to buy all my garden tools…one at a time for a quarter a piece!
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04.29.09
Posted in Reflections on Life in General at 3:14 pm by Lynette
I guess banks are hurting more than I realized. They seem to be hoarding their small bills.
Today, I went to a bank right next to my house, to save time, and withdrew money from that bank’s ATM. I paid $3.00 for that convenience. Then I went through the drive thru and asked if they could please change the 5 twenty dollar bills into ones and fives for my garage sale. This is how the conversation went:
Me: Can you please change these twenties into ones and fives?
Teller: And what account is this associated with?
Me (with stupid look on my face): Excuse me?
Teller: Do you have an account with us?
Me: No. I just want to exchange cash for cash. I’m not asking you to cash a check.
Teller: Well, we do not normally do that.
Me: You cannot give me cash for cash?
Teller: Not unless you are an account holder with our bank. But I will do it for you today.
Me (still with stupid look on my face): You are kidding me, right?
Teller: No, I am not.
She proceeded to exchange my money, but under clear duress. I had no idea that it was such big ordeal for banks, who have on hand usually more than $100 in cash, to trade one denomination of currency for another denomination.
When she returned and sent my money to me, she assured me that this was a common practice for ALL banks. This piqued my curiosity. I came home and called my bank. The woman who answered the phone seemed as dumbfounded by my experience as I. So I’m not sure where the original bank teller got her information.
I just know I will NEVER bank with that bank.
Do you see me trying to exchange my money and you won’t let me? Rude!
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03.27.09
Posted in Reflections on Life in General at 1:43 pm by Lynette
This is my cousin Jennifer. She is 44 years old. Because of complications during her birth, she suffered brain damage and has been mentally challenged ever since.
The other day I found her swinging on our swingset, watching a kite being flown in the distance. She was utterly, completely happy. It was a great thrill for her to swing and watch that kite toss about on the wind. I will never forget her look of tranquility.
She has the joy of a child and is blessed enough to be able to have that for the rest of her life. It’s a good lesson for me to remember to enjoy life. It is a blessing from God and worth my time to slow down and enjoy what He has given me.
Thanks, Jen, for the reminder!
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Posted in Reflections on Life in General at 1:39 pm by Lynette
From Dictionary.com:
Origin:
1660–70
a⋅ga⋅pe
2 /ɑˈgɑpeɪ, ˈɑgəˌpeɪ, ˈægə-/ [ah-gah-pey, ah-guh-pey, ag-uh-]
–noun, plural -pae /-paɪ, -ˌpaɪ, -ˌpi/ [-pahy, -pahy, -pee], -pai /-paɪ, -ˌpaɪ/ [-pahy, -pahy]
1. the love of God or Christ for humankind.
2. the love of Christians for other persons, corresponding to the love of God for humankind.
3. unselfish love of one person for another without sexual implications; brotherly love.
4. love feast (defs. 1, 2).
I felt this Agape love recently. I experienced it. I absorbed it. I was overwhelmed by it and I do not think I will ever be the same.
Walking amongst Christians who truly love me because of Christ’s love for them…it’s the most humbling sensation and one I hope will never, ever go away.
It has changed the way I love my husband. It has changed the way I love my children. It has changed the way I love my family and friends.
I hope and pray that anyone who reads this post has either known this love or will know it one day in their life.
God is good and He truly loves me. I know I cannot ever be worthy of that love but after experiencing it so completely, I know I want to try my best for the rest of my life.
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02.05.09
Posted in Books at 6:53 pm by Lynette
“Loving Frank: A Novel” (Nancy Horan)
In her debut novel, Loving Frank, Nancy Horan delves into the private world of Frank Lloyd Wright and his ongoing love affair with Mamah Borthwick Cheney.
The affair was scandalous, mainly because they were both married, just not to each other, when the affair began. Borthwick was married to Edwin Cheney, a great follower of Wright’s architectural skill. He encouraged his wife to agree to having a home built by Wright…a decision I’m sure he regretted for the rest of his life.
Mamah Borthwick was not the average turn of the (twentieth) century woman. She was a feminist and lived her life as true to her feminist ideals as possible, even at the expense of others. She did not make her decisions lightly, nor without great remorse, but she remained true to herself.
While I disagreed with many of her life choices, I also struggled to balance those same choices with the struggles every woman faced in the early 1900s. She was a suffragist, yet wanted much more for women than voting rights and equal pay. She wanted freedom for all women.
I strongly recommend this book. I found I could not put it down, even when I was disgusted or irritated with Borthwick throughout the story. The fact that Horan, the author, strove to weave the fabric of her story as close to the truth as she could discover, only made it more interesting.
I think the Chicago Tribune’s review sums the book up perfectly:
“An impressive and admirable debut…If FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT is the reason people will pick up this book, MAMAH BORTHWICK is the reason they will keep reading it….”
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