We're Here!

We did it! We survived 25 hours of travel and made into Moldova. They celebrate the New Year here until WAY past midnight...like 4 or 6
a.m.. The firecrackers may well be left overs from the Soviet Union's nuclear arsenal.

It was loud.

I slept through most of it until Amy came upstairs to wake me and ask that we pray the house didn't burn down. I guess the prayer worked.

Air Moldova wasn't as frightening as it sounds. It was a fairly modern aircraft and actually since it was a little older, we
had real leg room.

The only oddity was when they served dinner, the flight attendants passed a basket of bread rolls. No individually wrapped stuff here.

I couldn't help but think how appropriate it was to break bread as we entered Moldova and to think of Christ's body broken for us.

----
Internet account is "pay by the minute - dial up " so that's all for now!

Prayers for Amy please, she's worried she'll have the stamina and be able to adhere to the team schedule.

Bless you all!

Off We Go!

We may be pulling an "all-nighter" getting ready, but it appears we're actually going to do this thing...this Moldova thing.

Of course, Amy is not yet packed, and we've got to get a few extraneous details taken care of - some business stuff and some dog stuff (our Veterinarian offered to kennel our dogs for half price, and since Shell is starting a new job with undetermined hours, we are opting to take advantage of his generosity).


In less than 11 hours we'll be meeting our "team" at the airport and actually begin this new season of our lives.

It's been a long time coming, and we couldn't be making this journey without the prayers, encouragement and financial support we've received from so many of you.

We can not thank you enough.

This will be my final post for a while I suspect, however I did remember that I can "email" a post to the blog. I'm still uncertain of the computer/internet access we'll have in Moldova, but I think I'll be able to at least send out an email.

I've tested the email posting feature and it works - sort of. The formatting is a little awkward and it doesn't appear to allow me to publish photographs, but if nothing else, I hope to dash off a quick note saying, "We made it!"

It's going to be hectic for a while, and I'm sure the travel is going to tax our patience and probably our nerves a little...but we feel safe in God's will, and trust that He is guiding us.

I know Amy and I made this trip our "Goal" nearly a year ago, yet now it seems like it's come upon us so quickly.

But we're ready.

Please know that in addition to the bunch of "stuff" we are taking to the children in Moldova, we are also carrying the many blessings we have received from you.

I pray we can be good stewards of so many warm, generous and loving hearts.

Off we go! Next stop...Moldova!

Happy New Year!

The Best Main Plans

We'll be at the airport preparing for the long journey to Moldova in about 44 hours and there's lots I should be doing.
But I'm not.
Sometimes God steps in and reminds us that He'll work things out...and He'll also direct us where we're needed.

A couple of days before Christmas, the 19 year old son of some very close friends died.
It is a tragic situation the circumstances of which need not be borne out here.

But we heard God calling and reminding us that our bags would get packed, we'd remember our passports, and Shell could handle any minor household emergencies we didn't plan for before we left..

Right now we had to put those preparations aside, we're needed elsewhere...with our friends in their grief.

Death, especially the unexpected death of a teenager, requires so much of us, not only emotionally and physically, but answering all the questions, filling out all the paper work, figuring out what to do with family and friends... planning a funeral you prayed you'd never live to see.

So we've tried to be there and do whatever we could.

The funeral is planned.

Gordon will preside, I've written and will try to deliver a eulogy...Amy will sing. We've tried to remove some of the unthinkable burden from our friends. In between we've hugged a lot of people, prayed with a lot of people, and cried with a lot of people.

I don't know if we've done all we could, but I'm reminded that oftentimes in situations such as this the best approach is, "Don't just do something, stand there!"

Simply "being there" is often far more comfort than any words or action.

About 19 hours after Amy sings our friend's son into the grave, we will board a plane with the partial intent of bringing hope to children in a very far away land.

We'll be on that plane, but we pray that before we leave we will have helped re-plant a few seeds of hope here too.

Uh...Mmphello Mffster Preffident..

Gerald Ford is the only former President of the United States whom I spoke to with my mouth full.

Gerald Ford's passing last night brought back the memory of my one and only meeting with him. It was 13 or 14 years ago, and he was in San Antonio.

The former President is probably best known for pardoning Richard Nixon, but in San Antonio he's probably better remembered for a culinary gaffe...he was offered a tamale and didn't remove the corn husk before chomping down on it.



That's the type of thing that automatically pegs you as someone unfamiliar with Mexican food...sort of like wincing when you see someone pour salsa on eggs. It was an understandable mistake, if you've never had a tamale how would you know how to go about eating one? I've had any number of visitors from other states who've asked the procedure for devouring tamales.

Anyway, that incident happened I believe when he was still the President. My meeting with Mr. Ford happened after he had left office, although it did involve food.

It was a campaign year, and an upstart Republican named Henry Bonilla was making his first run for Congress in a traditionally Democratic district. Bonilla had held no previous political office, but he was well-spoken, Hispanic, and - at that time - married to a very popular television news reader.

Anyway, Mr. Ford was making a campaign appearance on Bonilla's behalf at a swanky downtown hotel, the first stop on a rapid fire swing through South Texas. I went to cover the event, and being an experienced reporter, I knew that morning news conferences usually involved food. Since this event was being held at a nice hotel, I figured it would be good food too. I made certain to get there with plenty of time to spare so my feasting would not be interrupted by actually having to cover the news.

Sure enough, I arrived and was directed to one of the hotel ballrooms where there was a fine spread of coffee, juices, donuts, fruits, and other delicacies...all of which fit very well into my budget at the time.

In other words, they were free for the taking.

I was the first person there; the ballroom was vacant except for me and the breakfast bar, so I started digging in.

I was well into my second or third sticky bun when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I thought, "Oh great, probably some political wonk who's going to direct me to a seat and away from the buffet."

So I turned around, my mouth still half full, and evidence of gluttony scattered all over my shirt, only to hear,"Hi, I'm Gerald Ford."

And sure enough he was...the Gerald Ford...the guy who pardoned Nixon, got shot at by Squeaky Fromme, the only man to ever serve in the Oval office who had never been elected to a national political post.

And he was alone.

It was only me and him with a rather curious number of pastry crumbs between us.

I quickly tried to be discreet and wipe the sticky bun residue from my hand as he reached out his hand in greeting.

Admittedly, Mr. Ford had not been in office for a number of years, and presumably Squeaky Fromme was well medicated, rather than self-medicated, some place where she couldn't get near him, but I was still a little shocked that the former President of the United States was wandering around alone.

My first words were literally spoken with my mouth half-full of free foodstuffs - and I was certainly unprepared for this encounter - but I did manage to greet him as respectfully as possible while still trying to swallow the remnants of a croissant.

My tape recorder was on a chair near the front of the room, so I wasn't prepared to interview him. My mind raced trying to think of something to talk to him about, I mean I don't really run in the same circles as former Presidents...heck, I don't even hang around people who play golf. I was a bit numb, and I'll confess I was also trying my best to position myself in front of the buffet table so that Mr. Ford might not notice how seriously I had ransacked it.

Besides my first words of introduction, which were at least respectful, albeit somewhat muffin muffled, I could only think of one other thing to say....

I asked Gerald Ford, the former President of the United States,"Shouldn't there be someone here to protect you from people like me?

I think he began to laugh, but then, as if on cue, the "handlers" came rushing in...they included Henry Bonilla and his then wife, who gave me a look like I had done something truly underhanded, yet I knew she couldn't possibly have had the chance to see the glaring glazed donut disparity on the buffet table.

They ushered Mr. Ford away and soon began introducing him to more important people, which wasn't hard to do...the busboy at that hotel probably earned more money than I did at the time.

The political staging then got underway in earnest and I was kept in my proper place, close enough to get a sound bite or two, but too far from the buffet table to snag a bite of anything else.

It was a brief interlude, my one-on-one with Gerald Ford. However he did strike me as a very down to earth kind of guy. Someone who felt comfortable enough to walk into a virtually empty ballroom...EARLY...for a political event and strike up a conversation with the only other person there.

I always thought a little differently about Gerald Ford after that...

He overlooked my crumb-laden "free food" frenzied face...I figured I could forget about that one little tamale.

Gerald Ford
1913-2006

Merry Christmas!

May God grace you and bless you...
May you always know His purpose for you under heaven.

Merry Christmas,
Michael & Amy Main
2006

It's Beginning To Look Like Insanity

In our home there is one Christmas tradition which is unfailing...procrastination.

If there is something we could have done/purchased weeks ago, months ago...we will wait until 1 hour before the only place in town that has that particular item or service closes on Christmas eve to try to get it in under the wire.

That is the case today. I am currently waiting for a critical element of a "Christmas Project" to be completed so that I can go and try to convince some folks to help me slap it together on Christmas eve, right about the time they should be getting off work.

I have faith.

But I'm losing my mind.


All I want for Christmas is a second chance at sanity...


Merry Christmas!!

A Quick Christmas Freebie

As most of us are these days, we're running around trying to get a lot of stuff done. Family is coming in today to spend Christmas with us...of course some of our family members can't be with us in San Antonio.

I came across a freebie the other day that I thought I'd pass along if you want to get your whole family together - no matter where they are - in a conference call. You can use your regular phones, but the person signing up has to use a computer to sign up - their call can be made on a regular phone too. You can have up to 10 folks talking at once....sounds just like Christmas dinner...

Anyway, it's at Jajah.com and it's only free on Christmas day. There doesn't appear to be any "catch" although I'm sure the email address you use to sign up with get plenty of offers for phone service from Jajah, so make sure and use an email address that receives spam, gmail, hotmail, yahoo... you know the drill.

Anyway, it sounds like a good deal, a way to get everyone together in a free conference call on Christmas day, and it's easy to use.

Here's the link for Free Christmas Day Calls.


Okay, now I need to go wash the dogs....




Merry Christmas!

Good Things Come In All Packages

We don't leave for nearly two weeks, and we're halfway packed for Moldova!

Of course, this was not by choice...we were forced to pack half of what we're taking since all the team members had to divide up stuff for the kids so Customs or the Mafia, or whomever decides to search our bags, doesn't think we're smuggling in dental floss for the black market.

Could there be a black market for dental floss? What would an underground floss peddler look like?









Okay, so that's a bizarre tangent...let's leave it be....


The point I wanted to make is that we had A LOT of stuff to pack: Sweaters for all the kids, hats, socks, beef jerky (these kids don't see a lot of meat...jerky is a fan favorite) toothbrushes, toothpaste and...um...floss...




Sorry, I'll get the image of profiteering floss hawkers out of my mind now...I hope.

We really have a bunch o' stuff we're taking to these kids...











And I only took pictures of some of the items...

Alright, I'll admit it...I took one photo of...well, you know...




Anyway, we folded and moved items around between bags so no one had too much of any one thing. We stuffed and we crammed and we weighed each bag - every bag has to be under 50 pounds - and at the outset I don't think any of us believed we'd actually get all that stuff into 10 suitcases.

But we did...with room, and certainly weight, to spare.

It's amazing how, when you let Him , God can make room for you in a myriad of ways.

Later in the week, it did get me thinking though...

One of the things I want to do, and am in fact tasked to do, in Moldova is help take pictures of all the kids and assist in printing them out each night, so every kid can have a picture. I've got a fairly decent digital camera, nothing too fancy, and I have several memory cards that can hold a ton of pictures, which I also use for my MP3 player. Still, when I saw an ad for a really inexpensive (after annoying mail-in rebate) two-gigabyte memory card I decided to snag it while I could.

After shipping - and the annoying mail-in rebate - it'll cost us less than 20 dollars.

I couldn't find the link to the same deal any longer, but I know some of you will ask, so I looked about and found a slightly different SD memory card on the same site, "Tiger Direct," which is actually even less expensive....after the annoying mail-in rebate.

Good while supplies last, as they say.

So, I bought the card. They shipped it out the next day, and last week it arrived.

In case you're not familiar with the size of an SD memory card...it's a little bit bigger than a quarter.

It arrived in this box:




Yes, those are my toes and one of our dogs - Avery - I wanted a little size comparison....Avery is a small dog. I have big toes.

Admittedly the card itself was sealed in that annoying "form plastic stuff" that requires a hacksaw -at minimum - to open, and in worst case scenarios blasting caps...but it still isn't very big.

And when I took it out of the annoying "plastic stuff which ought to be outlawed" and placed the card on the box - that's it sitting atop the label in the photo below - only one thing that came to mind...



"Man, they had room enough to shove a lot of floss in there too..."

Moldova Monies

Tonight is our packing meeting for our Moldova mission...the night we all shove toothbrushes, along with sweatshirts, socks, floss, toothpaste and assorted other items into one of the two bags per person we can take with us...everything in those first bags is designated for orphans and orphanage workers.

I just made our final payment for our trip. Our expenses were a little more than I bargained for, but we'll rebuild our emergency fund and still have money for Christmas with a little scrimping. I wanted to have the money issue behind us so we can focus on preparing for the trip, packing, getting all the other stuff done we need to do - did anyone else notice Christmas is like two weeks away? How did that happen?

For everyone who contributed to our madness, whether it was financial or floss or words of encouragement, again thank you.

You are the body of Christ.

We've decided to try something a little different with our personalized thank you notes - besides actually sending them, which would be a feat in itself for us, we still have Christmas cards to mail from 1996 - we're hoping to get pictures of some of the kids in Moldova and mail everyone who contributed, in any form, a personalized note with a picture of one of the kids, and maybe a little information about them. I really haven't broken that idea to Amy yet - I've typed every word I've written for 30 years, Amy has even taken to signing my signature so that it looks like something quasi-legible so she'll be tasked with hand-writing thank you notes, but it also relieves us of the stress of trying to get thank-yous out in a timely manner.

On occasion, there's a method to my madness...on occasion.

Anyway, the next couple of weeks are going to be hectic. Between trying to get "ahead" at work, Christmas shopping, fumigating so that visiting relatives don't leave wishing they'd been vaccinated before visiting, continuing our church journey, keeping Amy from overdoing, and making the house look as if we don't really live here, the truth is blogging will be sporadic.

I will keep you posted...probably in blurbs....we leave in three weeks with Christmas madness in between.

I will also have access to some type of computer in Moldova and hope to at least keep you folks updated a bit on our day to day adventures...I've already had some thoughts on flying air Moldova, which might substitute as a eulogy in a pinch.

Although I may be away from the computer, please know you are in our thoughts and prayers. We thank God daily for the support we have received from you nutty folks who read this blog, at a time in our lives of great hope, and honestly a heck of a lot of turmoil.

Please keep praying for Amy's strength, and that we will be able to convey the word we feel God is calling us to bring to these kids in a way that will resonate far beyond our brief visit. We are taking each of you with us...in our hearts.

Most of all, please know we are so thankful for our blog community, you have touched us in a time when we needed it most..this too I attribute to God. One day perhaps I'll be able to explain more fully the void which so many of you filled.

May God shine His face upon you and bring you peace.

Bless you all.


love,

Michael & Amy

We Are The Weird

I know this is a joke of some kind...I mean simply putting the names of Erik Estrada, Lou Ferrigno, and Kato Kaelin together as spokesman for a "cause" seems to automatically imply it's a parody.

Then when you factor in that they've supposedly joined together for a campaign to "Save Mistletoe," well it seems rather obvious.



Plus they've put together a song for the cause. It's not exactly "We Are The World."

Listen for yourself

Plus the website for the Mistletoe Appreciation Society of America seems to mention a certain brand of booze more than mistletoe.

Then again...it is Hollyweird.

I'm just sayin'....

Sometimes I Get Tired ...

I write about dead people.

Some years back my boss did an investigative piece on the most likely people to be "murdered" in San Antonio. As you might expect, we were able to show that if you weren't on drugs, hadn't been drinking, weren't at a bar at 1 or 2 in the morning, your odds of being "murdered" were minimal. People who lead "normal" lives, who are in bed at a decent hour, who aren't on drugs/selling drugs, and remain sober...don't tend to get murdered.

So most dead people I write about make the "news" due to the circumstances of their demise.

If this type of thing were measured in quantity, today's been a good day for people who write about dead people...not such a good day for the people they write about of course.

One guy I wrote about this morning got shot in the back of the head at a pool tournament where folks were drinking a lot. Someone starting shoving someone else...someone had a gun. Someone's dead....at the "Happy Hut." I wrote the story in 40 seconds...I've written the same story with different players so many times in nearly 30 years that it's almost become mechanical.

And miserable.

I try not to become immune to those type of stories. Someone is dead...someone is grieving, no matter the circumstance. However in truth, I don't delve deep enough to care, I can't allow myself...it happens too often. Here are the facts: booze, guns, bars, drugs, death. Stack 'em up as you please.

Last night's murder was at "Happy's Hut" - the victim: 28 years old. Earlier this week, it was "Santa's Place," another bar, another argument, another dead man in his 20's. The irony of the names of the murder locations already outweighs the memories of the victims.

But there are the other dead people I write about too...the even more senseless dead.

Getting shot in the head at "Happy's Hut" during an argument over pool is, of course, senseless, but these other dead people died for no reason except for the failure to take basic precautions and I don't mean avoiding drugs, booze, and bars...

Around 4:30 this morning, I was finishing up the various versions of the stories I was writing about the Happy Hut murder, along with a plethora of other stupid acts of violent crime which occurred overnight, some of which may eventually become stories of dead people, but so far those "victims" are hanging on. Then I heard the words.

It was the fire department scanner: "Fire...House in 'full bloom'...six people may be inside."

In San Antonio this year at least 16 people have died in house fires...nearly half of those have been in the past few weeks.

I've written stories about most of them...I write about dead people.

Several of these dead people were children, including a five year old girl killed in that fire this morning, along with at least two adults...another adult "had a pulse" when they pulled her out of the house guarded by burglar bars which was engulfed in flames by the time firefighters got there.

Another little girl died two weeks ago in a house fire, the granddaughter of a former State Senator I knew. He died with her. Her Great-Grandma died too.

Those 16 people who have died this year weren't in bars...they weren't carrying guns, on drugs or drunk...most were sleeping. Almost all of them did share one thing though...they lived in homes without smoke detectors.

Last week a fire official told a reporter I work with, "In the years I've been doing this job, I've never been to a fire where someone died if their home had a working smoke detector."

You can buy a smoke detector for five dollars.

In San Antonio, you can walk into any fire station and say, "I don't have a smoke detector and I don't even have five dollars to buy one." They'll give you one...firefighters may even come to your house and install it for you. No charge.

Do me a favor, make sure you have working smoke detectors.

Sometimes I get tired...of writing about dead people.

Career Direction

They've installed a new voice mail system at my office.

I know that's exciting news.

I think the company may be trying to tell me something, although I'm not quite sure how to interpret it.

When someone calls my voicemail extension they get connected...to the elevator.

I'm not kidding.

This is a slightly edited version of what callers hear.

I suppose I'll be an optimist and assume my career is headed up.


















Then again, it does depend on your viewpoint.

A Shell Of A Time

I kidnapped Shell Saturday night.

Shell is the young woman, 19 going on 40 going on 19 in the 1960's, who has shared our home and our hearts for several months.

My friend, and co-worker, who is the announcer at the AT&T Center, where the Spurs play, called me at about 5:30 on Saturday afternoon and asked if I'd use his seats for the game that night, at 7 p.m....90 minutes from tip off. I, being of unsound mind and totally oblivious to anything but the words "free tickets" said, "Sure!" and raced out the door to retrieve the tickets from under his doormat across town, along with a couple of quad-venti lattes from a Starbucks on the route to help keep me and - I assumed - Amy, awake for the game.

As I was rushing across town on my single minded, quad-venti, mission Amy called to tell me she was, "throwing up." Being of unsound mind and totally oblivious as stated previously, I came up with the touching and loving response of, "You'll rally."

Yeah, I scored big points.

Amy really wanted me to go and started actually calling people, anyone and everyone, to see if they'd "sub" for her. She was pretty far down the list before I called her again, two quad-venti lattes in hand, and realized her strategy. I begged her to stop and not to worry. I've gone to games alone before, the tickets were free.

Plus there were some folks on her "desperation" list whom I didn't really want to spend the next few hours sitting next to...even amidst a deafening crowd.

It wouldn't have been the first time I've had a last minute invite and gone it alone. In past instances, I've found someone standing in line looking to buy a single ticket and simply handed them my extra saying, "No charge, enjoy the game." Most of the time those recipients didn't believe me until they squeezed by the lady with the beehive hair-do who has season tickets on the same row and realized I was sitting in the seat next to the one that had dropped like manna from Heaven into their laps. Almost always the only response I've received has been a rather incredulous - oftentimes suspicious - look and a mumbled, "um thanks."

I don't blame 'em, I mean in today's world you don't expect strangers to appear out of no where and give you something you were seeking for free. I wish that weren't the case, but that's a tangent I'll let your mind chase solo....I was still in full Spurs' frenzy.

So, by the time I got home and saw Amy struggling to put on make-up so she wouldn't look like the walking dead - I won't remark on the success of this effort, I love this woman and also am fond of my life - there was little time to strategize, but I knew there was no way I was going to drag Amy to the game despite her rather sorry but admirable "put me in Coach" attitude.

I snagged my latte and started scrambling out the door just as Shell was walking in. Shell is not a sports fan. Shell has never been to a Spurs game. Shell has never been to the AT&T Center. Shell couldn't tell me which team was the Spurs when we were sitting 40 feet away from them.

I grabbed her arm and said, "Great! You're here just in time! We're going to watch the Spurs!"

Being 19 years old and misplaced in time - she really should have been born in the 60's - her response was, "What the *&%# man!" Followed by, "Sorry, I wasn't talking to you."

She's 19, she had a cell phone to her ear talking to some poor schmoe who I think was expecting her somewhere else.

So it goes. My house...my rules. You're always subject to being kidnapped...at least those were the rules Saturday night.

If you're going to take a hostage, you really can't get bogged down in their lives.

Moments later, we were in the car. There were a few more expletives, a little bleary-eyed wonderment (Shell tends to sleep days so my 6 p.m. is like her 6 a.m.) and then she said, "Where are we going? How long is this going to last? Why am I going?"

All good questions considering the circumstances, I responded with my usual wisdom, grunting, "Free tickets...Go Spurs Go!"

The blessing is that Shell really is a child of the 60's, or should have been, and her protestations stopped rather quickly, apparently deciding to go with the flow, the karma, or whatever she was experiencing at the moment.

We arrived at the game with time to spare. I was well fueled on caffeine and Shell was beginning to wake up, at least enough to shout, "FOUR DOLLARS FOR A COKE? YOU COULD FEED A FAMILY FOR THAT!"

I ushered us to our seats, past the beehive hair-do lady, as fast as I could avoiding a few wary-eyed security guards who still had Shell's spontaneous remarks about the price of a bottle of water going through their heads...and eardrums.

The game was sloppy and Shell spent most of the first half text messaging her friends, presumably the folks she was supposed to be with, but no one showed up to arrest me for kidnapping so I'm assuming she kept it tame, or she didn't remember our exact seat numbers - thank God for sell-outs.

At half-time, Shell left to use the restroom and I expected to hear a skirmish, but mercifully that's the one thing the AT&T Center doesn't charge for....yet.

She came back moments before the second half tip-off muttering something about the price of nachos and the homeless, I breathed a sigh of relief, and then the action resumed...on court.

Soon I noticed Shell was paying less attention to her phone and more to the scoreboard. The Spurs could have put that game away early, but they managed to make it a squeaker and it came down to the very final fragments of a second with a desperation heave from a Sacramento player.

It missed. The Spurs won, and Shell was jumping up and down with the best of us maniacs. I still don't think she understands or cares a lick about basketball...but as we were walking out of the arena she turned to me and said, "Thanks for kidnapping me...that was fun."

How many kidnappers get to hear that?

The Climb

It's been too long Lord...
Too long since I have knelt before You with Amy at my side,
and prayed as one.

It's been too long Lord...
Too long since we have sung from our hearts,
and left our heads behind.

It's been too long Lord...
Since we have worshipped without worry,
and given our full attention to You.

It's been too long, Lord...
Since I've wiped away her tears,
and known they were at last tears of joy.

We're still searching Lord...
Seeking Your guidance and discernment,
but for this one day we felt unfettered.

We're still journeying Lord...
There are many questions we must answer,
but for this one day we didn't ask them.

We still worry Lord...
About the road that sprawls ahead,
but for this one day we lived in the moment.

It's been too long, Lord
since we've left our baggage at the door,
and let You lead us...unencumbered.

It felt good, Lord.
To be in Your arms again,
and to reach out without question.

We know the climb will still be hard, Lord.
There's a murkiness ahead,
but for this one day, we remembered.

We remembered...
how it feels to reach out,
and touch the solid rock of Ages.












It's been too long, Lord...far too long.

Christmas Is In The Air

Ah...the season is upon us. I can tell by the "dead Santas" strewn about our neighborhood.













It's become something of a holiday tradition in our house. Last year, when the Gomez family was living with us, Ana and I would drive around the neighborhood and try to count "dead Santas." Pitiful, deflated St. Nicks...during their downtime.

I'm not a big fan of the inflatable decorations, but I shouldn't complain considering there's still a pumpkin on my porch.

Last night, Amy and I drove up to the church for our second to last "Moldova Team meeting" before we actually go to Moldova. On the way to church there's a charming little shopping "village" which we've watched grow over the years. All sorts of budding businesses have taken root there from a British tea shoppe to a dog groomer.

This year I noticed they're attempting something new, I'm assuming it's a version of Dicken's "Christmas Carol," although the sign doesn't really explain much.



I'm not sure exactly what to expect, I haven't gone in. You have your choice of "driving thru" or walking in and there are signs to direct you depending on how you opt to take it all in.


I don't think it's presumptuous of me to assume its the traditional story of Scrooge...considering each sign also contains very specific instructions.




It's nice to know someone is busy keeping Christmas traditions alive...



Okay, it's a little deflating...