Meet M.I.M.

My. Irish. Machine.  Isn't she beautiful?  Note the extended table for quilting.  Trust me, it's a big deal!  So is that little box full of quilting accessories.  Things are about to get serious.

Denise brought M.I.M. over on Tuesday afternoon.  In a matter of minutes, every free space in my teen-tiny-living-room was covered with boxes, styrofoam, free accessories, and other sewing essentials.

With Denise reading the manual, it didn't take long to wind a bobbin, thread M.I.M up, and sew my first seam.  That was about all I could handle on Tuesday.  I, like the rest of the folks on the team, was sick-something-horrible.  See that smile?  It took the last of my energy.

Luckily, my bug only lasted almost-exactly-24-hours.  By Wednesday evening, I was finally feeling up to the task of finishing a quilt I'd started while I was living at the Karnes'.  My teeny-tiny-living-room was barely-big-enough to get it ready to quilt.  Good thing "barely" counts when it comes to quilting.  M.I.M. surpassed all my expectations!

It turned out that sewing something was just what I needed to get well.  About 10 minutes after I finished quilting-and-binding that quilt, I started picking-and-cutting fabric for the next one.  I also discovered a more-fun-than-drying-laundry use for my drying rack...

M.I.M. and I have spent a lot of quality time together these past couple of days.  I don't want to speak too soon, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that she's everything I've been looking for... fast, quiet, easy to get along with... I think we're going to be very happy together.

See how straight she sews?  I can't take any credit for those seams (well, maybe just a little credit).  But most of it should go to the 1/4" quilting foot that came in that little box above.  I had no idea what I'd been missing out on all these years.  Now I know.  My world has been rocked.

I start school a week from Monday.  Which means I've got a week to get rid of all the quilting-energy that's been pent up over the last 2 months.  Like I said, things are about to get serious.  For real.

Some (mis)adventures from the Dakota-Half

Seeing as how Dakota didn't get to participate in the adventure of moving to Dublin (tear), "the adventures of Jo and Dakota" has really just been "the adventures of Jo."  I figured it was time to see what DK has been up to since I've been gone.  Luckily, she has a Mooly to keep her in line... most of the time...

This weekend, Dakota had some fun playing in the flower bed.

So she got put in time-out.  South Dakota.

For the most part, though, DK and Mooly get along great.  Especially when Mooly spends time with her in the backyard doing things like this:

Thanks Mooly, for making sure Dakota still gets her share of adventure... and for making sure I hear about all the mis-adventure too.

Perspicacious Perspicacity.

There are things Satan attacks me with: doubt, fear, insecurity, inadequacy.  He says that loneliness is inevitable.  That I'm not desired.  That I will never be sought after.  He tells me I'm too much.  Too independent.  Too strong.  He convinces me that I will fail.  That I don't have what it takes.  That I shouldn't even try.  He whispers.  He distracts.  He twists the words of others.  All to deceive my heart.  To draw me away from Love.

Then there are the things I am certain of, the things that these lies can never take away from me: God is faithful.  He is good.  He has a purpose for me, prepared in advance for me to do.  He listens when I cry out to him.  He delivers me from anguish.  He is greater than my heart.  He can do more than I could ever even dream to ask from Him.

He is all I need.  My worth is found in Him.  He is in control.  He loves me.  He will never leave me.  He dwells in me.  I am safe with him.  He is not malicious.  He is not deceitful.  He doesn't set me up to fail.  He uses my failures for good.  His will is perfect.  His timing is perfect.  His grip on my heart is eternal.  He is steadfast.

He doesn't keep me sheltered, but He's my refuge when I'm battered.  He prepares me for battle.  He fights alongside me.  He continues to fight for me when I have no strength left.  Then He lifts me up on eagles' wings.  He fills my weary lungs with the breath of Life.

In Him I find rest.  Peace.  Gentle waters.  He calms the storm raging within me.  He has proven Himself to me over and over.  His hand remains on my heart.  He surrounds me.  He guards me.  He watches over me.  He protects me.  All of my trust, my entire life, belongs to Him.  He is my only desire.

I cling to these promises.  To all the things I know about my Creator and the nature of His love for me.  He is faithful in His call.  In His provision.  In His refining.  In His healing.  In His protection.  Satan doesn't stand a chance in the battle for my heart!

Yes, perspicacious is a real word.  No, I did not make it up.  And I learned it from Denise, not Mary Poppins.

The Great Move-In

It's official.  I live in Dublin!  I've got an address.  A bank account.  Internet.  Bills.  My bags are unpacked.  Most of the boxes have been thrown away.  It only took three trips to Ikea and another full day at a different shopping center to gather up most of what I needed... towels, bedding, pots and pans, lamp shades, pillows, etc.  I still need to find my perfect sewing machine.  And a bike.  It took me two days and three people to figure out how to use my washing machine/dryer.  I don't know how to use my oven yet.  But how hard can it be?  Other than that, I'm pretty much settled in.  Finally!

Outside my apartment after a big shopping trip with Juli:

My Living Room/Kitchen/Strange-Space-That'll-Be-Perfect-For-Sewing, from the Kitchen:

My Living Room/Kitchen/Strange-Space-That'll-Be-Perfect-For-Sewing, from the Strange-Space:

Guest Bedroom.  Awesome window/view.  Awesome Single Girl Quilt that's not quite finished:

My Bedroom.  With fancy bedding (no Dakota=fancy bedding) and a surprisingly-not-too-tacky purple chandelier:

The new drapes I made for the Strange-Space window.  Ignore the ugly ones in the middle.  Couldn't figure out how to get them off the curtain rod:

My house warming party is September 3rd.  You're all invited!

Time to get back to the real world...

Camp is over!  I get to sleep in a real bed tonight (last night, too).  My campers were amazing!  They were from the Dublin area, and participate in a sports/youth club with some friends of mine.  I'm excited about getting to hang out with them more.  There's a chance I may get to tag along when they go on a surfing/camping trip later this month.  I've never been surfing before.  It may be a disaster.

We won "tent inspection" the first two days.  The first day was a theme day.  We decorated our tent like a Justin Bieber concert.  Complete with screaming fans, security guards, and of course... Justin Bieber.  It was a big hit.  Literally.  I was blessed with clean, creative girls who will be the first to tell you that I was the messiest one in our tent.  It's true.  I was.  Luckily, I got my act together enough for us to take home the Tent-Inspection-Award for the week!

The weather was UNBELIEVABLE!  Only one night of rain at girls' camp.  The rest of the time we had clear skies and lots of sun screen.  I was thrilled to be outside in the 75 degree weather!  All the Irish girls were "roasting" in the heat.  They don't have a clue how bad it could be... right, Dallas?  I'm looking forward to catching up on my rest.  And I'm excited to go back to the forest next summer.

Today was day one of The Great Move-In.  Ikea delivered some furniture this morning.  Craig, Merschon, Denise, Davis, and Bailey crammed into my tiny living room/kitchen to help me build it.  It was good craic (pronounced crack)... that's Irish for "good times."  Here's a quick sneak peak of the mess.  Pictures of the finished product to follow.  But don't hold your breath, it could be a day or two... or nine...

Legally speaking

I spent the last 10 days or so with 40+ boys at Camp Shamrock in the Tollymore Forrest in Northern Ireland.  Three days of sun made my soul very, very happy.  Then the rain came.  It wasn't too bad.  We all stayed mostly dry.  I go back for another round of camp tomorrow.  Except this time it'll be full of girls... drama, drama, drama.  I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories to tell.  If I survive.

Today was the only full day off in between camps.  I had to go to immigration.  It wasn't nearly as horrible as I thought it'd be.  They didn't give me any grief for being here illegally while I waited on my new passport to come.  Guess the guy was right when he said it wouldn't be a big deal.  Who knew?  Since my courses at Irish Bible Institute don't start until September 5th, I only got a temporary stamp in my passport.  I have to go back before school starts to get my actual student visa.  At least now I know that I have everything I need for when I go back... again.  And I'm legal... again.  Whohoo!

If a picture's worth 1,000 words...

...then how many words are 12 pictures worth?  A lot.  The pictures are easier than the 12,000 words it'd take to match them.  Yesterday, Craig and Merschon took me on an 8 mile hike around Howth.  We had a picnic lunch by the sea.  We were blessed with warm sun, cool weather (how does 66 degrees sound?), and beautiful things to look at... as you can see...

Monday night, we celebrated the 4th of July with 3 Germans and an Englishman.  We had burgers and potato salad and chips.  I made the dessert.  Patriotism never tasted so delicious!

I just saved myself another 1,000 words.

"Wonderful!!!!"

This is the wedding quilt I made for My-Sister-Rosi and my Brother-In-Law:

Anna Maria Horner, my most favorite fabric designer ever, commented on this picture I posted on Flickr!  That's right... THE Anna Maria Horner thought one of MY quilts was "wonderful!!!!"... that's kind of a big deal!!!!!!!  Anna Maria, thanks for making my day month!

The Best Sunburn Ever

Mooly, you probably shouldn't read this post, because you will scold me and give me "the line"...

When I moved to Ireland, I was afraid my skin would never see the sun again.  Yesterday, all my fears were put to rest.

Juli has been playing softball with a team here in Dublin.  I very willingly let her wrangle me into joining her.  She was, unfortunately, out of town for the tournament this weekend.  I was left all alone and had to do some wrangling myself.  Luckily, My-Friend-Kyle was more than happy to be wrangled.

I managed to get some sunscreen on my face before I left.  And Denise was kind enough to put some on my back.  I figured the rest of my body could enjoy a couple hours of quality vitamin D before I layered it with SPF.

We played 4 games in a row before stopping for a lunch break.  I played 1st base.  I was no Albert Pujols, but I handled the glove pretty well.  We even got a double play!  I'm embarrassed to say that I struck out swinging in at least my first 5 at-bats.  I don't want to point any fingers, but I will mention that Scott took me out to hit baseballs the other night.  Totally threw me off my slow-pitch groove.  By the second game, I was at least making a little contact with the ball.  And in game three I hit a double!  Whoohooo!  MFK totally showed me up with his 2 home runs, but who's counting?

Around 3:30pm, before our 5th game, I thought Wow!  I've been out here a while.  Maybe I should put some sunscreen on.  Too little, too late.  If I was still in Dallas, I would never have been so deceived.  Intense heat would remind me that I need more protection.  But here, the burn crept up on me.  It was hidden behind partly cloudy skies and a nice breeze and a mild 75 degrees.  Best sunburn ever.

It doesn't look so bad today.  In 3 days it'll be brown (hopefully), and I'll feel a bit more like my usual-summer-self.  My muscles, on the other hand, are complaining a bit.  Apparently, 7 hours of softball was too strenuous.  My short legs aren't used to having to hustle.

The bright side of being ghetto.

My experience last week with the DTW has made me very conservative when it comes to making plans.  The less ambitious you are with your time, the better.  I had two things on my To-Do-List for Monday: get a phone, get new passport pictures.  Easy enough.  Scott took me to a shopping center nearby.  They have a photo shop and a place that's supposed to have good deals on mobile phones.  We figured it'd be easy enough to knock out both my birds with one stone.  We went to the photo shop first.  The metal door was closed.  There was a hand-written sign taped to it: Closed.  Be back tomorrow.  One bird got away.  We headed back for the phone store.  No good deals.  There went our first stone, and we hadn't killed any birds.

We got back in the car and drove 10 minutes or so to another shopping center.  Craig had mentioned that they had a photo shop upstairs.  It took us two laps around the small second level to find the photo store tucked between two bigger shops.  In a little more than 5 minutes I had two new not-so-flattering-you're-not-allowed-to-smile passport pictures.  One bird down.

Getting a phone took a little longer.  I needed something cheap that could hold me over until I can get something better.  The sales guy showed me his recommendation.  It's perfect for talking and texting, he said.  Plus it only cost 10 euro.  I figured anything would be a step up from the phone I left behind in the States (which was held together by a couple layers of packing tape).  Bird number two.

Two birds.  Two stones.  Things could've been worse.

When I got back to the Karnes' house I figured I should send a text out to everyone with my new number.  I went to the "message options" menu to turn on my predictive text.  It wasn't there.  I looked under "language".  Not listed there either.  I pulled out my manual.  No mention of predictive text anywhere.  Seriously?  This phone has a stopwatch and four languages and FM radio but no predictive texting?!?!?!  How can a phone be "perfect for talking and texting" and NOT have predictive texting?

It's taken me a few days, but I've accepted the idea that I may be destined for a life of being cellularly ghetto.  I did accidentally leave the phone in the park yesterday.  It got rained on for about 30 minutes.  No one stole it and it still works... I guess that counts for something.

Note:  I have to go to the US embassy (to renew my passport) and the Irish immigration office (to get my student visa) tomorrow.  Denise is coming with me for moral support.  Please pray that everything will go smoothly.  I know that "the one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it!"--1 Thess 5:24

The Dublin Time-Warp

Today was my first experience with the phenomenon Craig has appropriately named "The Dublin Time-Warp."  He'd mentioned it several times before, this idea that you run around for hours and hours, but at the end of the day you haven't really accomplished anything.  I was properly warned.  But there is no way I could be properly prepared, not without experiencing  DTW for myself.

Here's what my day was supposed to look like:
*meet Juli at 9AM
*take the DART to City Center to look at an apartment at 10AM
*look at a second apartment at 11AM
*swing by the Irish Bible Institute to pay my tuition fees
*take the DART a few stops further, go to the U.S. Embassy because my passport has to be renewed before I can go to the immigration office next week
*head back in time to eat a late lunch with Juli around 1 PM


Here's what I actually did:
*met Juli around 9:15 AM (no surprise I was running a few minutes late)
*we would have been at our apartment appointment on time if we hadn't gone the wrong direction from the DART station; even though we got off to a slow start, we were still done looking at the (fantastic) apartment before 10:30 AM
*Juli had to go back home, and I was early for my next appointment, I decided to go to IBI first
*while waiting to speak with someone in the office, I got a call from Appointment #2 saying that they "were in a meeting and couldn't make it at 11 AM.  Would 2:30 PM work?"  No, not really.  But I said I could rearrange my schedule to make it work.
*waited at IBI until 11:40 or so before the finance person came in; I had coffee and biscuits (cookies) with some of the office staff while I waited
*my bank card wouldn't authorize the full transaction amount for my fees; we ended up having to try smaller transactions; my card let us run it 3 times before it quit working; they will run it 3 more times tomorrow; this means I have to go back to IBI next week to pick up all my paperwork for immigration
*left IBI around noon; got to the embassy around 12:30 PM
*after waiting outside for several minutes, the security officer told me that I would have to go home, schedule an appointment online, and come back later; it was about 12:45 PM
*I needed to kill some time before going back for Appointment #2; I had passed a Starbucks on my way to the embassy; I went there
*got an Irish Starbucks card (you get free shots here!) and an Iced Passion Tea; let me mention that they don't actually give you ice with your iced Passion Tea, so I had to ask for some, I'm pretty sure they thought that was weird
*left Starbucks around 2 PM to get to Appointment #2 by 2:30 PM
*Appointment #2 arrived around 2:50 PM; the apartment was NOT worth the wait
*it started raining just as I was leaving Appointment #2; I made it to the DART station before 3:15 PM
*stopped at Juli's on my way back to the Hutson's to tell her about the rest of my day; got back to the Hutson's about 4:30 PM

And that's The Dublin Time-Warp.

My move: The long and the short of it.

The past month or so has been a strange mix of emotions.  Sadness to leave.  Excitement to go.  All blended up in one heart.  I felt like that song, "Wanna throw my tender heart in a blender, watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion..."  Oh, and I should also add exhaustion to the pot, which isn't really an emotion, but it definitely adds some intensity to the others.  I was expecting to be an emotional wreck during my last week in the States.  Instead, God blessed me with lots of laughter, a strong heart, and plenty of Mexican food.  Don't get me wrong, there were still waves of sadness, and I cried many-a-river, but God's faithfulness and unending joy eased the way.

The Goodbyes:
I hate saying goodbye.  I avoid it whenever possible.  If I could've had things my way, I would've snuck out in the middle of the night, then called everyone from Dublin to say "hello".  Goodbyes are filled with finality and sadness and that horrible don't-leave-yet-I-just-want-one-more-hug ambiguity that drags on and on and on.  Some of my goodbyes were easier than others.  I said goodbye to Jes on Wednesday.  My Daddy kissed me goodbye early Friday morning.  Mooly and Dakota were a little tougher.  They weren't quick.  They lasted several hours.  And the thought of them still makes my cry.  I hate goodbyes.

The Hellos:
Or should it be helloes?  Either way, these are so much better!  Hellos are filled with anticipation and smiles and I'm-so-happy-I-could-squeeze-you-to-death hugs.  I love hellos.  I had several hours to wait between my goodbyes and my hellos.  The extra time I had to spend in immigration at the airport (due to a misunderstanding on my part) didn't help things.  By the time we got things sorted out, my 5 bags were the only ones left at baggage claim.  Not to mention there was no one around to help me manage them.  It was a pitiful sight.  After several minutes of a ridiculous battle with 2 luggage carts (a battle I was losing), a nice stranger came through and offered help.  Fifteen seconds later I was greeted with my first hellos.  My whole team (sans Scott) was standing together, holding welcome signs, smiling, waving.  Denise was taking pictures.  You can see them on her blog.  Then came the relief of being loved.  The exhaustion and frustration melted with each hug.  I love hellos.

The goodbyes are still heavy on my heart.  I know the full effect of them hasn't even sunk in yet.  But the hellos are still being made.  And I have a feeling they won't be going away any time soon.  My life is a Beatle song, "Hello, goodbye. hello, goodbye..."

Note:  It's 11pm now.  It's not even completely dark yet.  Also, it was about 55 degrees today.  Unbelievable!

Just stick to The Plan

What a week!  It was a I'm-so-busy-I-can't-even -make-full-sentences kind of week.  Somehow I managed to stay generally peaceful and not at all frantic.  I credit The Plan for the lack of chaos that usually surrounds me.  Even Mooly was proud.  Last night, as we were calmly doing last minute things, she said, "Well, you're about 2 days ahead of where I thought you'd be tonight."  She was so proud!  And I should clarify that these "last minute things" were not things that I had put off until the last minute (like waiting until last week to get my Texas driver's license that I should've got 13 months ago) but rather things that naturally come last...

A few more Last-Minute-Things to do in the next 7 hours:
*eat a chicken biscuit for breakfast
*sweep the floor in my room
*get the Last-Minute-Laundry folded and into a bag... I'm just not sure where it's gonna fit yet
*pet Dakota
*organize all the things that didn't make it in a bag for this trip but are coming in January with Jes (squeal!)
*ask Mooly if there's anything else I need to do
*go to One-Last-Happy-Hour at Sonic on the way to the airport

I'm hoping I won't have any trouble with my excessive amounts of luggage.  Pray for a friendly and compassionate ticket agent at the airport!  I figure that if our God can get all the Israelites out of Egypt then He can probably get all my bags out of DFW.

The Plan.

A couple of days ago, Mooly and I had the following (paraphrased) conversation...

Mooly:  Jo, I need for you to make a list of all the things you need to do before you leave and then you may want to make a schedule of when you plan on getting it all done.
Me:  Silly Mooly, that sounds like a great idea, but you know I don't work like that.
Mooly:  Yes, I know.  That's the problem.  You're running out of time.  I'm worried you're not going to get everything done.  I need to know that you know that you have a lot to do.
Me:  Don't worry, Mooly.  I've got plenty of time.  And I really don't have that much to do. It'll all get done.  I promise.
Mooly: (shaking her head and looking really concerned) Ohhhh.....kay......

Today I realized that Mooly was right (don't tell her I said that).  As usual.  I've got a lot to do.  I'm running out of days.  But, I've got a plan.  A good plan.  And a Super-Sister that's really good at sticking to the plan.  Lucky me.

Right now: Finish laundry; write blog about The Plan
Tomorrow: Fly to Alabama for my final visit with University Church
Friday: Take care of business in Alabama
Saturday: Mooly and Daddy join me in Alabama; more taking-care-of-business
Sunday: Make things official with UCC in front of the entire congregation
Monday: Fly back to Dallas; Mooly will help me pin/baste One-Last-Quilt
Tuesday: Quilt/bind/wash/finish One-Last-Quilt
Wednesday: Super-Sister will help me get everything into 4 suitcases and 1 carry-on; lunch with Betsy at Fuzzy's
Thursday: Take a big sigh-of-relief that everything is packed; do any last minute things I've overlooked (I'm sure there will be plenty)
Friday: THE BIG DAY!!!!!  Betsy will take me to the airport at 3pm; there may be a few happy tears prior to (and/or after) that.  Flight leaves at 5:50.
Saturday: Arrive in London around 8AM; change planes; arrive in Dublin around NOON; Whooooooohoooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! 

My Mini-Me

Or maybe I'm a Mini-Her.  I'm older.  She's taller.  I don't know which counts more.  All I know is that we're basically the same.  It used to be that we just looked like.  It's obvious (to most) that we're sisters.  Some would be fooled into thinking we're twins.  At the very least, we force the unsuspecting to do a double-take.  But lately, our resemblance has deepened beyond our appearance.  I see in her everything I feel in myself.  She is a reflection of my own spirit.  Our souls sing the same song.

She left today.  In my car.  It's almost like I'm going with her.  We didn't cry.  We smiled and hugged and waved goodbye.

 

Then she started to drive away.  I was taking lots of pictures.  She was annoyed, I'm sure.  But I couldn't help it.  I love her so much!

I turned to go inside, but I couldn't let her go.  I needed one more picture.  One last shot of her heading off toward the adventure God has prepared her for.  I turned back.  Not fast enough.  I barely caught her before she was out of sight.

Panic overwhelmed me.  I couldn't breath.  It was like all the oxygen in my air had followed her.  We had avoided the tears.  We tried to avoid time.  But in that moment on the driveway (and several since) I haven't been able to avoid either.  The finality of that happy farewell is sinking in.  So it is with wet eyes and a joyful heart that I say, Sister, I don't know when I'll get to hug you again, but my soul will sing with your's forever... a song of passion and adventure and fullness in Christ.  I love you.