Tiny little ship

I have nothing to write about, except that I’m going to Papua New Guinea the day after tomorrow.

Whoa. Just whoa.

It’s pretty much the only thing on my mind at the moment.

I can think of nothing else.

Excited? Way too small a word.

There is organizing and list-building and list-crossing-off and emailing and errands and laundering and packing and cleaning…. and and and… lots to do.

But you know what? It’s all for PNG.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m probably not going to sleep for the next three weeks as the four of us share a cabin smaller than our kitchen. I’ll say good-bye to facebook and instagram and pinterest and blogging. I’ll have micro showers and wear the same two shirts every-other-day. I’l not be able to pop down to the shops when I run out of something or realize I’ve forgotten something. No nightly news or long walks around the neighborhood. No time alone. No googling when I don’t know the answer to something! *gasp*

I’ll be on a tiny little ship based out of a tiny little cabin doing tiny little work that will make a great big difference.

And you know what else?

It’s gonna be amazing.

And it will probably change our lives.

It will certainly change the future.

Ummmm, did I tell you I can’t wait??!

STOP.

Q for you: When’s the last time you were preparing to do something that you were SO excited about??

Love,
A

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.

Jitters

I have the pre-first-day-of-school jitters.

The kind where you’re so excited that it’s hard to even imagine going to sleep.

Except that I’m not going to school tomorrow… I’m going to America.

Well, technically I’m not going to America. I’m going to Sydney so we can leave for America the next morning.

But whatever.

Tomorrow’s the day we pack our toothbrushes and board the plane.

Tomorrow’s the day we switch into holiday mode.

Tomorrow’s the day we go on a family adventure.

Tomorrow’s the day we head from winter into summer. (Oh please God, give us summer-ish weather in Oregon. Please?)

Between the excitement of the Voice finale and the trip beginning tomorrow, who knows if I will ever fall asleep tonight. But for everyone’s sake, I’d better go and try.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you got those excited jitters I’m talking about?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

Pack your bags, baby

I’m doing something I’ve never done before. I’m packing well in advance of my trip.

And by “well in advance”, I mean four days.

I’m normally a have-all-the-lists-made-in-advance-but-pack-the-day-before sort of person.

But this time, I thought I’d experiment and do it on the weekend since we leave on a Tuesday.

So far, so good.

The biggest thing I’ve noticed is that it’s taking me way longer. Way.

I have too much time to deliberate about what to wear. (And wonder what people are wearing “over there” these days. And what the weather will be like. And if I will have enough pairs of undies.)

Maybe it’s a little less stressful to pack a few days in advance, but I think I like the just-get-it-done pressure of doing it the day before. (It’s just that I’m learning with kids, the less pressure the better. You never know when melt-downs might strike!)

There will still be plenty of “last minute” things to put in – electronics, toiletries, snacks – but I can say that I already have three of the four of us packed. I’ve impressed myself. (And the fourth one can do his own packing.)

The biggest dilema is the shoes. I hate packing shoes.

(How many pairs of shoes do you take when you travel??)

Good thing I still have three more days to change my mind.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you enjoy packing or hate it?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

I love my Oregon

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” We’ve heard this cliche spoken a million times. Usually in regards to relationships.

But it’s also true of places.

We’re gearing up for a trip to Oregon in two-and-a-half weeks (what?? so soon??!) and my heart is about to explode with excitement about it.

I’ve lived overseas for most of my adult life.

I moved out when I was 17. Took off for Europe when I was 18. Returned to Oregon at 19. Left for Asia at 22. And have been living in Australia since 23.

In the 18ish years I’ve been living on my own, only 4ish of them were actually in Oregon.

But in my mind, Oregon (Central Oregon actually) is this near-perfect place that I always can’t wait to get back to. (Yes, having my family and church and “old” friends there definitely contribute to that.)

I realize that some of my perception has grown out of a longing and homesickness for the familiar, but still, there’s this awareness of just how incredible my little mountain “town” really is.

An awareness that certainly wasn’t there until I “grew up” and moved away.

And I know it’s real because I go back there and it does not disappoint.

It really is that awesome.

Who knows if I’ll ever live there again.

I might live the rest of my days in Australia. Or not.

But I know one thing for certain, my heart is big enough to have two homes (not including my real one in heaven).

I love my Oregon. I can’t wait to introduce the newest Booker boy to her goodness, and my other Booker boys to the glories of her summer.

Two-and-a-half weeks and counting…

until I’ll be home.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you experienced the “absence makes the heart grow fonder” phenomenon in regards to a person or a place?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

Going away and coming home

I just returned from the most refreshing three days I’ve had in a long time.

Judah and I went to Sydney where I met up with friends–most of whom I haven’t seen in five years–and visited family.

We ate Thai. We picnicked in the park. We got absorbed in the city. We talked about deep and meaningful issues. We walked miles and miles and miles, pushing strollers all the way.

I had pockets of “alone” time – small ones – but enough to remember how much I love breathing city air and merging into the bustle. (Alone time, meaning just Judah and I.)

There were special moments between my son and I that are hard to articulate, but I’m so grateful for. We’re closer because of it.

It’s hard to explain why this weekend was so perfect, but it just was.

And as I collapsed  into bed last night – exhausted and sore – I had a smile on my face knowing that I’d wake up and go home again.

Home to my family, home to my loves, home to my heart.

Going away is amazing. But coming home is even better.

(I missed this guy.)

I’m so grateful for this weekend away. My heart is truly full.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you been away lately? Do you love coming home as much as I do?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

We’re contending for the remote control while they’re contending for their lives

Mothers Day is in two days.

What an awesome holiday it is.

Hallmark holiday? Well, maybe. But I think it’s so important to take time to honor the amazing mothers in our lives. (Hi mom! *waving* Love you!)

I realized that although readers of my other blog are well aware of Bloggers for Birth Kits, I should probably post here too since some of my readers are different.

So here’s the deal:

In rural Papua New Guinea the rate of women dying in childbirth is one in seven.

Shocking statistic, I know.

But think about it as more than a number. Think about it in terms of faces.

How many moms do you know that are pregnant? How many do you know that have just given birth in the last year?

Divide that number by seven and then think again.

Ouch.

I know.

The good news is there’s a way to prevent many of these deaths through the distribution (and use) of clean birth kits. In the developing world the leading cause of maternal death is infection, and the kits provide things like soap and plastic gloves and a few other basic supplies that can help create a cleaner birth environment.

And the other good news is that these kits only cost about $2-3 to make. (Seriously.)

I’ve posted all about it here.

To date we’ve raised 3176 kits so far in the last two weeks. An amazing response.

Because the thing is, women love helping women. (And some men love helping women too!)

And every mother knows the love of a mama to her baby.

And no mother can fathom not living through the welcoming of that baby into the world.

So this Mothers Day, as you’re enjoying your breakfast in bed (hopefully!), I urge you to also think of the women in PNG and elsewhere that are contending for their lives (and their babies’ lives) as we contend for the remote control.

If you’re a mom, happy Mothers Day to you for Sunday. If you’re not, well then, happy Mothers Day to your mom.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Would you be alive today if you’d given birth in a developing nation? Would your mother??

 

Love,
A

p.s. The photo is of a package of birth kits I received today from a mom in America. Yay. Thank you. 🙂

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

What I hate about Australia (besides giant bugs)

There are so many things to love about Australia:

The sun.

Gorgeous beaches.

Ridiculously cute animals like koalas and wallabies.

Cool buildings like the Opera House.

Indigenous art.

Bush dances.

BBQ culture.

Passionate sports fanatics.

Words and phrases like “mate” and “g’day” and “no worries”.

The amazing (Asian) food that you can find everywhere.

Teh fact that most people don’t take themselves too seriously and are quick to have a laugh.

Morning tea.

Afternoon tea.

I love so much about this nation. So much. (I’ve been here 12 years, duh.)

But there is one thing I hate. (And yes, I know “hate” it a very, very strong word. One I don’t use often.)

Yes, I hate the cockroaches, the ants, and the mosquitoes that I come across on a daily basis… but that’s not what I’m talking about.

What I’m talking about is this:

THE AUSTRALIAN SHOPPING TROLLY.

(Otherwise known as a shopping cart.)

I have never, ever, EVER driven one of these things that steers correctly. Tehy are not made to balance and flow like the American ones.

They simply will not go in a straight line when in less than perfect circumstances.

Going around a bend (with a full cart) is like trying to pull a semi-truck around a hair-pin turn on the side of a mountain pass. Ugh.

Trying to push a cart with 50+ pounds of groceries in it and steering it in teh right direction when there is any remote slope to the ground is virtually impossible… Comparable to crocodile wrestling. (Just try to imagine that.)

I’m convinced that the CEOs of Woolworths and Coles have never gone grocery shopping a day in their lives.

If they had we would be seeing some radical reforms in the trolly department.

A nation that’s built the Sydney harbor bridge, hosted the Olympics, and engineered countless other modern marvels…. yet they can’t figure out how to make a decent shopping cart.

(Embarrassing.)

So this, my friends, is the thing I hate about Australia.

Shopping trollies.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you ever tried to wrangle an Australian shopping cart?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

See ya. I’m outta here.

I’m closing shop for here folks.

Me and the fam? We’re headed out bush for a week of camping. No phone service. No interwebs.

No FACEBOOK.

(How will I cope?)

Quite nicely, thank you.

I’m looking forward to a week of being unplugged. Well, unplugged from the internet at least.

I’m taking my laptop. I’ll be continuing my five-minute-a-day posts. (And will dump them here, back-dated when I return to the land of boardband.)

it’s rainy season here int eh tropics. And we’re headed to the dirt. (Lots of dirt.)

I might be having a few more mud baths that I owuld like. But that’s how it goes folks. No control over the weather!

Ryan adn I are co-teaching on three YWAM schools up there. Should be a hoot.

Could be crazy if the little-you-know-who-two-year-old is cooped up in the shed or tent the whole time due to RAIN.

please God, give us some decent weather. I don’t want to bring home shriveled up babies from too much time playing in puddles.

Pray for us guys, if that’s your thing.

And in the meantime, enjoy this quiet place.

I’ll see you when we’re back in civilization.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you unplugged from the internet and phone for a week? 1993?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | five minutes a day, unedited
Adriel also writes on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos. 

The one that’s not about Morocco

When I imagine the prefect space for writing, two images come to mind.

One is a second story cafe in Newington Green, London. It’s a bit dark, a bit smokey, and has a couple small windows that overlook an old cemetary.

In no way does this place excite me as a writing space, but I always think of it.

Perhaps that’s because I have distinct memories of sitting alone there, journalling my heart out as a 19-year-old. Handwritten, of course, in little books…. long before the days that laptops were as common as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The other place I think of is a small office on the second story of an old farm house. There’s an oversized desk, a huge window, and lots of natural light. On the desk are a couple of framed photos, few pieces of paper, and several pens scattered aorund. (Why are there pens? I write on my laptop.) Ouside there’s a looming oak tree, sprawling lawns, and of course a babbling brooke.

(This place doesn’t exist. Well, I’m sure it does. I’ve just never been there.)

I’ve never wanted to live in teh country. But I can certainly imagine wriitng there.

Neither of those places are my ideal writing spaces, and yet they are the ones I always think of – one real and one pretend.

When I sat down to write this post I was going to write about Morocco.

About the shapes of the doors and the colors of the shoes. About the flicker of lanterns and the cobblestone alleys adn how it all made me long to write and create so desperately.

How did I get to a smelly old cafe and imaginary farm house from that?

Someday I will write about Morocco. A strange and beautiful and far away place.

Until then I’ll keep writing from my couch in this old Queenslander I call home.

STOP.

Q for you: What’s your ideal creative space?

Love,
A

Click Clink Five is a blog by Adriel Booker. | Five minutes a day, unedited. | 2012 All rights reserved. | Adriel also writes on parenting and motherhood at The Mommyhood Memos.

I write to remember

There are many reasons I write.

I write because I enjoy it. I also write because I’m good at it. (And don’t we all like to do things we’re good at?)

But I also write to remember.

I’ve never been one of those people who can sit around and tell stories.

My husband is like that. I lvoe that about him – he’s never without some story to tell.

Often I try to think of stories to tell… and I just can’t think of any. Seriously. It’s like they don’t even exist in my brain.

I know they must be buried in there somewjere, but wherever that somewhere is, it’s not close to the surface.

So one of the reasons I write is to remember.

I really started writing when Levi was a couple of months old. I’m SO glad I did.

Even now I thnk back to those days (which aren’t that long ago) and the details are hazy.

What helps me to remember are the things I wrote about and the things I photographed.

If I’ve somehow captured it on paper or in image, it’s much more cemented in my mind. (Luckily I have thousands of photos to help jog the old memory!)

But what I don’t have much recored abotu are my travels.

This makes me incredibly sad.

I’ve been to around 35 different countries I think, some of them multiple tiems. Some just for fun, adn some with my work.

I remember a story here and there. I remember how I felt. I remember random facts about hte people I met or something I ate or did.

But largely, my memory is hazy.

How I wish little laptops had been available then like they are now!

I’d have volumes and volumes of stories recorded.

I’m grateful to have (already) lived such a full and interesting life.

I only wish I could remember it a little better.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you write? If so, why?

 

Love,
A

P.S. This is the same reason I’m a “list person”. I’d remember nothing if it weren’t a part of some list or another. *sigh*

 

Click Clink Five is a blog by Adriel Booker. | Five minutes a day, unedited. | 2012 All rights reserved. | Adriel also writes on parenting and motherhood at The Mommyhood Memos.