a week of miracles - warning!! long post!!

So I don’t necessarily want to call this a week of miracles, because putting some of the things that have happened this week on the same plane as oh, say, being healed or raised from the dead seems a little frivolous. But, nonetheless, there have been some unusual happenings this week that are worth mention…

For starters, on Sunday morning – bright and early – my new table came! YAY! It was truly worth the wait and now it sits in all of its bigness in my dining room. It actually sort of dwarfs the room, but hey, if you ever want to have a big gathering, my house is now the place to be. And, if we have four other children, everyone can be comfortably seated without much ado, like bringing in the old card table, folding chairs, or someone sitting on the piano bench. Now, putting down all that cash was a little more difficult to accept…but I’m glad we waited to get what we wanted and didn’t settle for some random piece of cheap furniture. How we will get it back to the States should we ever resettle in America is certainly another issue since each chair weights about as much as I do, but we’ve got a table for the ages now!

Today was another accident free day for Emma – woo hoo, emmy! If I can recant my opening statement, I think that deserves to be on a plane at least close to some of those biblical miracles!

But here is the find of the century for all of us Asia-dwellers…

Somehow, in some conversation somewhere about something, something about avacadoes was mentioned in the presence of our ever-resourceful, snake-fat-oil-suggesting house helper. So she takes it upon herself to check out some of the wholesale bakers markets in town…and reports back to us with the word that, if we wanted, we could buy avacadoes here in our town.

The thought that this is possible was truly baffling to us, because though there are many imported items you can get here in our asialand, avocadoes is always top on every expat’s “things-I-miss-most-about-home” list. The name doesn’t even translate well into the local language, most people have never heard of one, much less seen one or tasted one.

So she pops in one day and tells us the good news that we can buy avocadoes, but then the bad news: we have to buy them in bulk. Bulk here means in boxes of 30 or 36. Wowza (to take rachel w’s word…)! That’s a lot of green stuff! But we agreed to it anyway, and today, just as promised, a box of 30 avocadoes was delivered to our home. Those nice and bumpy skins just waiting to be cut open and destroyed by tortilla chips…

Tonight we feasted on taco salads with refried beans, sour cream, guacamole, cheddar cheese (another hard find), Tostitos, and topped off with chocolate covered strawberries. The other good news is that we have like, 25 avocadoes left, still sitting in the kitchen!

So, in keeping with my miracle week, I am hoping beyond hope that some packages we are waiting on will come. Now a quick word about packages – packages are truly a lifeline to home. It’s where friends and family send you lots of little goodies that make life easier and more fattening when you are away from the obese land of the USA. Chocolate chips, cute baby clothes, Christmas presents, good quality anything…packages are so fun to get and even more fun to open. They bring warm fuzzies and remind you that people back home love you and remember you and take the time to pick stuff out just for you and then take even more time to make sure you get it. The good feeling lasts for days, and sometimes even weeks if you can wisely ration your goods. But, Mr. Postman has been playing a cruel joke on us and we are still waiting on FIVE – yes, count them, FIVE – packages that should have already been here weeks, even months ago.

It is agonizing to me every time I think of it – the contents of some packages were Christmas presents that have been much anticipated…hmmmm, I think a new pampered chef garlic press, some scrapbooking stuff, new clothes for josh to wear on our upcoming vacation in Thailand, and who knows what else? That’s the fun of packages – you don’t know what’s inside! Anyway, along with those packages are three boxes of books we had shipped over here.

Books, sure, are replaceable. I even made a list of the contents of each box so that I would know if something was lost or opened. But there are a few irreplaceable items in those boxes – my Bible, given to me as my wedding present from my husband, which I have used my entire married life. (I foolishly thought it just a little too heavy to pack in our luggage and decided instead to ship it.) It contains many notes and personal reflections since 2000, including the beginning of my life overseas, the passing of my grandfather, the birth of my two children, and many other impacting, but less significant events. Its contents can never be replaced or replicated. If it is lost, I shall truly be crushed.

Another important item in one of those boxes lost in post office abyss is Samantha’s baby book – which contains the only ultrasound pictures we have while she was her cute little self in utero, exact details and personal thoughts of her birth, and her “just born” hand and footprints that were taken at the hospital that happy day of June 17th. I sigh and my spirit falls every time I think about it.

But, I’m starting to drive my husband crazy, because I got this crazy idea on Sunday when our table came. I decided that this was my week of miracles and that this would be the week that our five boxes came. Every time the doorbell rings, I jump and scurry to the door. My poor husband probably feels rejected every time he comes home, because he knows I’m hoping it’s the delivery man! When we walk into our apartment building, I try to throw a casual glance toward our mailbox, hoping to see a notification slip that we have a package waiting for us. I give expectant looks to the apartment manager people who sit mindlessly at the little desk by the wall of mailboxes.

But now it is almost Friday morning, and my miracles haven’t come yet. There’s probably some wife of an asian FedEx guy who is happily using MY garlic press to press HER garlic! I guess since I said “my week of miracles” I (or God, or FedEx or EMS or someone) still has until Sunday, but…