14419 Nell Drive

 Last week was our 15th anniversary, so Erik bought me a house in Orlando.

It's unusual in many ways. In fact, at first it was so unusual that I didn't really want it. The former owners custom designed it in what we'll call an "eccentric" way, which sounds better than what I called it before which was, "designed by drunk people." The upside of this eccentricity is that it's one of a kind! Hard to find anywhere, but especially in Orlando where housing developments abound.

Aside from the layout, it's unusual because you can't reach out your window and touch your neighbor's house like most houses in Orlando. In fact, we can only really see the neighbor to our west. In the back we have a fence and trees blocking our view of anyone, and to the east, as you can see, there's an acre of trees. Yes, our acre! Hello future guest house (in the way distant future when we win the lottery and have the money to build it). In the meantime, you can stay in the guest room, or pitch a tent if you really want to stay outside.

When I look at this house now, I see lots and lots of potential, and if you know how much I love to decorate, you know I'm like a kid looking in the window of a candy store right now.

Here's what else we love/are looking forward to about it:

It comes with deer! Ok, not ours but how sweet is that? (until it eats my garden)

The dining room has wood floors and I'm picturing a wall treatment below that chair rail

A three+ car garage. What??

Hello cabinet space as I've never had before

This might be my favorite part - the second floor deck off the master bedroom

Fire pit! Or, rather, was and will be. Someone stole the bricks, but we'll replace them and make it even better!

A master bedroom that is ridonkulously huge

This is part of the "unusual" - this is the front of the house, which faces the neighbor. I have plans for it, starting with tearing down that fence.

The joke's on us - Erik and I hate houses that scream "Welcome to our garage" and ours appears to be the poster child for it. But what a nice garage it is.

Second favorite part - HUGE porch off the living room. We want to screen this in.

I'm picturing this landscaped and flanked by our new stone lamps

And did we mention the pool?

You Can't Take It With You . . . Unless There's Some Room in Your Container

What do you do when you find out you aren't close to filling your 40 foot container but there's no way you could reduce it to a 20 foot? Why you make the most of it of course! And how do you do this? Well, if you're us (and we are) you think of anything you might possibly need on Tao Bao before you go. When you realize that this will take up about 2 cubic feet of space because let's face it, you're just buying computer cables and travel slip covers for your shoes, you look toward bigger things.You look for furniture.

Now let me add the caveat that our children truly do need new furniture because we're leaving their old stuff behind. We thought about just waiting until we get there but everyone who has gone before us has lamented NOT getting more while they were here. So it only seems smart. (ok maybe smart and a few other things, but mostly smart).

My first attempt was to go to a place a friend of mine recommended that makes furniture. They were happy to make what we needed within our budgeted time, but when she texted me later with her quote, it was obvious they wouldn't do it within our budgeted money. Oy!

In the past, we went to a furniture place out in the boonies and bought a few pieces that we love from a great couple. Since then they have moved their warehouse twice, once in the past two weeks, so we had mostly given up hope that they could help us. We thought we'd give it one more try though and emailed them pictures of what we wanted made. To our great surprise, they emailed back and invited us out last Friday. And hope was restored (cue the peasants dancing).

After an hour long drive to a new part of the boonies, we found them. We were able to order 8 pieces of furniture for a third of the price that the other place quoted us, so we upped our joyful dancing. Not only that, it's just ridiculously cool to walk through their warehouse, take pictures, and dream about how you could possibly (and simply must) incorporate an antique pair of Chinese doors into your new Florida home.

Washing Windows

This morning I washed some of our outside windows, because I thought starting off the week with an exercise in futility would be a good challenge. It was also to remind myself how crazy dirty it can be here.

Why would I want to remind myself of that? When I write it, it just sounds depressing. But it serves several purposes. First, it helps me easily justify having a cleaning lady come every weekday morning for 4 hours; it reminds me that I am not a neat freak, just someone living in an urban jungle; and mostly importantly right now, it gives me hope that in the States I won't miss or need my helper as much as I think I will.

I mean don't get me wrong - I love this woman just as a person and I will miss her terribly. She brings joy into our house every day. But I know that my house will not rapidly decline into something filthy that would be featured on some reality show called "Dirty House."

See here's the thing. This is what my windows look like regularly, particularly if it has been raining (and this is the rainy season). I washed my windows this morning. By the end of the week, certainly sooner, they will look like this again. Why bother?

Last summer when I was at my parents' house, I noticed their front windows needed washing, so I did it. By the end of the summer - two months later - they still didn't need to be washed again.

This is true for our floors as well. We can justifiably mop every single day. It's not that I need super clean floors. It's that you can see dusty footprints, and also paths through the dust, if you don't.

This is something I'm always trying to explain to my Stateside friends, but they just don't seem to grasp it. They say their houses are "dirty" because they haven't cleaned in a couple weeks, but I look at them and see no visible dirt, so to me they're pretty darn clean.

Ok, I need to go finish washing the windows. Hopefully it won't rain for a few days so we can enjoy it.

IKEA to the Rescue

The above picture doesn't even capture Ethan's room at its worst. Most of the time it looks like a Lego store exploded and you can't see an inch of that Lego table. And although 95% of his toys are Legos, there are the errant Nerf guns and bullets, Bakugans, Plants and Zombies cards, and various other small items that have wandered in and started squatting without a good place to live as well.

IKEA to the rescue. We've tried to leave IKEA behind, but it calls us back with the promise of inexpensive storage solutions with funny names. Thankfully, Ethan actually enjoys assembling IKEA furniture, so we bought the toy unit under his bed and a long box that's peeking in the left of the picture - the first to hold the Legos, the latter to hold everything else.

I wonder how long it will look like this?

Looking Forward

Now that we've said our goodbyes and are picking up the pieces of our broken hearts, it's time to look forward at the next step. In two weeks we will move up north, closer to our office. While packing box after box and dongxi bag after dongxi bag (these are plastic like bags that zip shut. Dongxi means "stuff"), I have started thinking about our new apartment and what I'm excited to experience in it, like:

1. A double sink in the kitchen
2. Dishwasher
3. An island with stools next to it - breakfast is served!
4. A guest room, maybe two!
5. That beautiful duvet I bought at Hola for the guest room
6. Using the shower curtain and towels in the guest bathroom that I never could part with but haven't needed for the past 3 years (and the new bathmat that matches them that I got for my birthday!)
7. Bright, bright rooms
8. A five minute commute to the office, door to door
9. An office in our home
10. Beautiful new paint colors
11. Stairs! I haven't had stairs in my house since right after college
12. Leaving behind the leprous walls of this apartment (from the water damage)
13. A giant homeschool/playroom
14. A closet! Chinese apartments rarely have closets. They just use wardrobes
15. That huge built in shoe/coat cabinet in our main room
16. Friends across the street and down the street in more than one direction - so many people we know who will be close!

That last one is probably the best (and I'm not just saying that to counter the material emphasis of the previous 15 thoughts). I'm not thrilled about the packing and unpacking, but I'm excited to think about how much fun it will be to live in!

Not Quite What We Chose

Erik has been periodically checking on the status of our apartment, which I'm sure involves headache inducing conversations in Chinese with the renovation boss (whom we affectionately call "Mr. Zhuang Xiu Pants" - zhuang xiu meaning "renovation") about the details of everything.

After his last visit, he came home with that "prepare your heart" tone as he told me that the kitchen tile has been installed, and it's not what we ordered. I suppose in the U.S. this doesn't happen, or if it does, you'd immediately demand a refund and receive it. Here, it's just kind of part of the deal.

Erik suspects it might have been his fault, a miscommunication with the tile woman. Thankfully, it's not horrible and is relatively close to what we ordered. Instead of a neutral color on the yellow/tan side, it's neutral on the grayish side. It could be so much worse.

It could be like our first place, when we ordered tan carpet for the whole house, and got gray instead. When we pointed out the difference, they initially insisted it was the same. Later, they admitted, "This is what we had at the factory." Or it could be like the time we spent an hour choosing the covers and countertops for our cabinets (pine color covers and dark counters) and got two random orangish/yellow colors that didn't really go together. Or what about the time we chose dark forest green couch covers, and our couches showed up in a vibrant green? It begs the question, "Why do you bother asking us to choose colors?"

So if this is the worst mistake that happens in our renovation, I'd consider us very lucky indeed. Here's hoping . . .

Moving On

Our lives as expats are filled with change. The most difficult of that, of course, is when the change in our relationships. Over the years we've said goodbye to more friends than we care to number.

This summer we'll say goodbye to our closest friends here, the family who came through training with us in 1999. Our experience with them has been the true definition of community - doing life together. We're so thankful we've been blessed to be next door to them this year! It will be devastating to say goodbye to them, but their move will also facilitate one of our own.

We've decided that with them, and another family we love, leaving, combined with high rents and cost of living in this part of town, and our current distance from the office, it makes sense for us to move to the north part of town. There, we will be close to Erik's office (instead of an hour away!), and will be within walking distance of people we work with. The rents are significantly cheaper and the houses are bigger.

We think we've already found one of these cheaper and bigger apartments, so we're excited! The landlord is fantastic and seems to not be in great need of money, which means he's not asking much from us. The apartment is on the 12th floor across from our office. We're thinking of installing a zip line down to it. The main downside is that the new area of town is not exactly a beautiful place to live, and our apartment in particular is devoid of surroundings where kids could play. This will be particularly difficult for Erik the Outdoor Man, but will not have much impact on Gina the Girl Who Could Live Happily in a Bunker. I will miss running along our canal though!

We plan to move in August, after our friends have left. Between now and then we will be working with the landlord to "zhuang xiu" the apartment as it is currently an empty concrete shell. Pictures and stories of the crazy process sure to follow.

After much za-ing, zhao dao le!

After you've heard two people discuss your apartment at length, using the word "za" about 20 times, then you run into one of them later and he tells you that he is going to come back to your house at 1 pm, but he will not being doing any more "za" it's time to figure out what "za" means.

za: to pound, to break, to smash

I should have guessed.

At this point, they have za-ed about 6 holes in our floors between both bathrooms and the hallway. This morning they za-ed under our shower floor, and "zhao dao le! (found it!)" Sweeter words have never been heard from a worker with bits of tile scattered throughout his hair.

They promised they would find it today, and so they have. They also promised that today they would finish all the work. I had my doubts. Sure, you might find the leak, but dude there are six holes that need filling, tiles that need replacing, my bathtub is against the wall, and my sink in is the storage room. Really? But here it is at 4 pm, and they are holding true to their word. Not sure about the tile yet, but those holes are filled. More importantly, there is a shiny new pipe in place of the old one. I've got to hand it to our management company - once they're done with the za-ing they take care of you.

Guo Liang Tian

In every language, there are phrases that you can't take literally. I need to remember this whenever someone throws me the phrase, "Guo liang tian." It means, "after two days" but REALLY what it means is, "Not today, lady. Maybe some time in the next few weeks." Ironically, I'd rather have a "guo liang tian" than a "ban tian" which means "half a day" but really means, "Your guess is as good as mine."

I got "guo liang tian" yesterday when I called the management company to find out when the workers will come to fix The Thing. It's like a cancer spreading through our house. Maybe if I take these pictures over to them, I'll get a "jin tian" (today).

This hallway is where it all began. There was a small spot here when we moved in. The landlady said it was "where a dog peed." Yeah, I don't know any dogs that big. She had it fixed for us, but it's back. (that was supposed to be said all creepy) Every day I scrape off the new paint/plaster that has bubbled. The darker part is where it's constantly wet.

This is the wall across the hallway from the bathroom, which means it's seeping under the laminate floor.


Megan's room, on the other side of the bathroom, has had the brunt of damage.

This part's right up by her head. I didn't show the damage in Ethan's room, or our room, but it's growing there too. I had a picture of the flooring too, which is no longer flat but increasingly warped. I accidentally deleted it and feel like eating breakfast instead of reposting it. I think you're probably sufficiently appalled already anyway. Hello, management? Jin tian people!

The Thing

I feel like I should post some pictures of the ever-encroaching damage that's happening to our walls as a result of this water leak. It is now prevalent on the walls outside both bathrooms, across the hall from the bathroom on both sides, all along Megan's wall, on parts of Ethan's wall, across the flooring in the hallway (we have wood laminate floors) and this week has traveled to a second wall in our bedroom and crept across Ethan's floor. Now when we step on the floor outside our bathroom, water seeps up between the floorboards. It's like a monster from a horror movie. Maybe should call it The Thing.

But there is hope! (this is the part of the horror movie when the hero swoops in. Or wait, are there not heroes in horror movies? I don't watch them). Today I called the management and told them they needed to send someone again asap. A new worker showed up at the door and I thought, "Shoot. I'm going to have to explain this all over again." He was pretty shocked at the state of things, but walked into the bathroom, removed a tile from the wall, looked in, and said, "Here's your problem. This pipe is leaking, and so are those."

Ok, dude, where were you two weeks ago?

I asked him what he was going to do about it, and why it was happening. He said something about the changes in temperature with winter, having heat, then not having heat - basically I think he said it was causing a lot of condensation. The pipes themselves are the ones which supply toilet water to both bathrooms. I was greatly encouraged when I joked with him, "Should we just go use our friend's bathrooms instead and you turn our toilet water off?" Encouraged because he understood me and laughed. That made up for me not understanding so much of what he said about the pipes.

Unfortunately I couldn't nail him down to what he's going to DO about the leaks. He said he had to talk to his buddies and plan a course of action. I believe this course will probably involve demolition of some sort, but at this point, I don't care.

The best thought

Sometimes I look around my house and think, "Hmm . . . I should really pick up this place," and then the most glorious, stress relieving thought hits me, "My helper comes today." When I'm reminded of this, I usually smile and go find something pleasurable to do instead. Go ahead and hate on me if you're helperless, I understand. I've been there. But now I'm here, and I'm lovin' it.

Renovation

When we moved into our first apartment in China, we lived on the 20th floor of a 22 story building. Our apartment was an empy shell when we rented it, and in agreement for lower rent, we had flooring and some cupboards installed, and the walls painted. At first it was nice to live there because few people lived on the top floors, but over time people moved into THOSE empty shells, and the renovating became a constant neighbor. One apartment was so bad that I went and asked them how much longer they were going to be. They gave me the old "ban tian" which means, "half a day" but in actuality means, "It's anybody's guess lady. Could be weeks, could be months."

I thought we'd left our renovating days behind, but the apartment above us has been slated for a complete renovation. Every day (except weekends) they begin work around 8 am and continue til 5. I'm thankful for the days which don't require drilling. Today is unfortunately not one of those days. Finding a room in our house where we don't hear the drilling is a challenge. Usually Megan's room provides the best retreat, so we can continue to do some schooling (at least that which doesn't require us to speak to one another).

To add to the experience, last night we had some of the management company workers come to our house. There seems to be some water leaking into their basement dormitories. No surprise, given that the walls and flooring outside our two bathrooms, as well as the wall of Megan' room which lines the bathroom are all disintegrating from water damage. We've been lazy in inviting them to come. Maybe we thought it would magically go away on its own. I guess we thought it was done leaking, and we just needed to fix the damage. Not so, not so.

I don't want to disparage the quality of workers here, but it's not uncommon for them to wander through the house like they're hoping the answer to your problems will suddenly jump out at them. It reminds me a little of that scene in Toy Story, "I don't believe that man has EVER been to medical school!" My faith in their fixing abilities is shaky. But what's most disconcerting about these times is the possibility that at any moment, they will come ask me for something. Over the years, I've learned a lot of new vocabulary, as I've been asked for things like rags, ladders, pails, flashlights, hammers, and caulk. I've also learned the most important word you can learn about your house: leak. I know how to talk about leaks.

Beyond these random inquiries, there is also the final analysis, which could also be called, "The most trying language moment of the month" or "10 minutes of frustration that will suck the life out of you." This is when the workers come and tell me what they've found, and what they plan to do about it. This involves them pointing at things and jabbering quickly (usually with a southern accent), while I nod and grunt, and hope for words I understand (usually just "leak" and "water"). Then they ask me for something, and I have to admit, "I don't know what you mean." Then begins the game of me saying, "You mean this?" No. "You mean this?" Yes, but blah blah blah something else I don't understand. By the end, we usually come to a fair understanding of what has and what will transpire.

Today, the end result is that they need to talk to the workers who installed a new pipe in our bathroom. This may or may not be the source, they don't know. They're coming back this afternoon. Before they left, I asked one of them to look at our back door which hasn't been shutting properly. He fixed that, and then determined that my kitchen faucet wasn't working (I didn't know that!). I'm not sure if that puts me ahead or behind.

Now that they've left, I have an unsettled feeling. I'd better rest up though because I'll have round 2 in a few hours!

Falling Apart

No, not me, my house. As I sit here in the homeschool room, I can feel the draft coming from our porch door because lately it has decided it doesn't want to stay completely shut. I can look into my bedroom and see that the water damage around our bathrooms has started in a new spot. The damage has managed to make it into the kids' bedrooms too - very odd for Ethan's room because he's not against a bathroom wall, but maybe it didn't want him to feel left out. The laminate floors are ganging up with the walls, rebels that they are, and are bubbling in various spots. Our kitchen cabinets are still being held up by a 2x4. Am I forgetting anything? Oh yes, the lower cabinet which has detached from the wall and likes to slant to the right when you open it. Tricky.

Such is life here. Stuff breaks easily. Thankfully, repairmen are generally cheap. We have just been unmotivated to get these things fixed, especially since the water damage will probably require a lot of time and mess (the mess is more my concern). Maybe we'll just leave it all for the next tenants.

Dust running wild

In the absence of my maid, I have had to scrounge around in my brain for the place where "cleaning skills and know-how" reside, dust them off, and use them. In the process I have discovered some places which she has, ahem, overlooked.

Exhibit A: Under the couch. We are all familiar with dust bunnies, but to say we have dust bunnies is an understatement. What we have living under our couch are dust rhinos. I know this, because dust bunnies would never viciously attack lunge at my face in that fashion. Territorial beasts they are. I don't think they are normally this aggressive, but they have been allowed to run feral for quite some time. I managed to subdue them, but I need to have a conversation with my maid about how we shall keep the population to a minimum in the future.

Surprise!

I love surprises. To me, they communicate that someone took the time to think of me, and I'm all about quality time. Thankfully my parents like surprises too, because I gave them a big one last night by showing up three days early.

Here's the story - about a month ago, my uncle passed away unexpectedly. My mom's sister passed away last summer (2008) and her other sister also passed away a few years ago this time of year. So this year marks the first without anyone with my mom's side of the family coming for Thanksgiving, which we celebrate on the weekend.

When all this happened I thought, "Our tickets were free (paid for by the company and frequent flier miles). Why don't I spend a little and change my ticket so I can be back with them for Thanksgiving?" So I got my brother to come pick me up at the airport and we were set.

It was hard not to mention it to my mom, especially when she said on the phone last week, "Maybe we should just wait until you guys get back to celebrate."
"No, no you shouldn't. You should do it on Sunday," was my response.

The flight from China is SO much nicer than coming all the way from Singapore. I got on at 5:30 p.m., so after dinner it was almost time to sleep. I normally don't sleep much on the flight because we used to leave at 6 a.m. from Singapore, but I think I got in about 4 hours. I went through customs in Chicago, which was slick. There was no line! And I always enjoy when the customs worker says to me, "Welcome home." It's honesty one of the only times in my life when I am very conscious of being American.

I had a great drive home with my brother and enjoyed the excitement my parents and sister had at seeing me. It's a beautiful day here in Minnesota and I'm glad I can spend it with my family!

Memory Lane

Last night Megan asked me if I knew my mother's parents when I was little. I didn't have the fortune of knowing my grandmother, as she died long before I was born, but I do have many fond memories of my grandpa John, and weekends spent at his house.

So I began to tell Megan about my grandpa. I told her what his house looked like (strikingly similar in layout to my parent's current house). I told her about the box in the basement next to the TV that always had peanut m&m's or chocolate stars, and how we'd try to sneak them without anyone hearing. I told her about eating dinner on Friday nights at the mom and pop root beer stand at the corner, where we'd always have corn dogs (and root beer, of course). I told her that my grandpa's refrigerator always had 20 kinds of soda, and that we would eat Alphabits for breakfast with half and half poured over it, and braunswauger sandwiches on white bread for lunch. But best of all, I told her, were the mornings my grandpa made pancakes, sausage and bacon for everyone, with Karo syrup.

As I talked her eyes lit up, and she said, "It sounds like so much fun!" I told her it was fun, just like it's fun for her to visit her grandparents. On reflection, I realized I made it sound like all we did at grandpa's was eat. Tonight I'll have to tell her about riding our hot wheels in the driveway, playing with old toys we'd find in the closet, the bright green antique dentist chair in the corner of the basement, the salon style doors leading to the back room that made it feel like a secret hideout, the time we stood out on the patio in our bare feet on Christmas Day because it was 50 degrees, the collection of antique dolls in my mom's old bedroom that we used to play with, playing piano while my grandpa dozed in the armchair, and how he'd always snap awake when I was done and say, "Very good!"

I actually can't play piano or make pancakes (like I did this morning, but not at the same time) without thinking of my grandpa. I wonder what our kids will remember about visiting their grandparents?

Mosquito attacks

Three nights ago, I was awakened by an extreme itch on my left foot. Turns out I got three mosquito bites right around the ball of it. I found some itch cream and settled back to sleep. An hour later I woke up with two bites on my right foot. Since the AC in our bedroom is sub par, I couldn't hide under the covers, so I went out into the living room where the AC is arctic and slept peacefully.

The next night, I woke up with matching bites on both my forearms. Again, I traipsed out to the living room and wrapped myself up in our big comforter.

Yesterday, I joked with Erik that the mosquitoes were moving up my body and that they would hit my face last night. Not so. They went for my shoulders instead. One on each side. They threw a cluster of 5 onto my left shin for good measure, along with one on my face and a few on my neck. Did I mention that Erik hasn't been bitten? So once again it was off to the couch for me.

Although my prevalent feeling in this situation is frustration mingled with annoyance, I have to laugh. What's with the matching bites? Is it some kind of Chinese yin-yang thing, trying to keep the balance? What should I expect tonight? My ears? Whatever it is, I'm guessing I'll get both sides. Wouldn't want part of me to feel left out.

Made from scratch

I remember the day I realized that it was possible to make a cake from scratch. I was living in China, and didn't feel like going to buy an overpriced cake mix. And there, in my Betty Crocker cookbook, was a recipe for yellow cake. Fantastic! Who knew? After that I began discovering that before we started drying up ingredients and boxing them so that people could reconstitute them later at home, people just skipped the whole store deal and made it themselves.

I realize the point of this is to save time, and that a lot of times the store ones just taste better (brownies, for example). But there's something so satisfying about making it yourself. And, as they say, necessity is the mother of invention. Well, I need to find ways to eat healthy while not unloading my wallet on a bunch of overpriced imports. In the end, I guess for me it's a combination of (usually) saving money, knowing exactly what went into my food, and being able to claim ownership over the finished product.

So lately I've been having this thought more and more often, "I bet I could make that myself. And it would be healthier." In recent years I've tried my hand at hummus, pita bread, tortillas (still not very good at those) granola (SO good!), granola bars, marshmallow cream, salad dressing, pizza dough, and a wide variety of whole wheat bread.

Still on my list to try is making my own vanilla (I bought the vodka and the vanilla beans - now I need a jar) and yogurt. And perfecting a whole grain bread that my kids will actually eat that I can make regularly. I'm off to try another recipe right now.

So have you made something from scratch that most people don't? How did it turn out? Can I have the recipe?

Pita Time

When I was a poor post college student, my daily lunch was usually a pita stuffed with mayo, stir fried mushrooms, and alfalfa sprouts. I know, not too appealing, but it was cheap!

I haven't had many pitas since coming to Asia, because they're not that easy to find. Usually here I find the "pocketless pita." Hello? That's like a pocketless kangaroo. You're missing the whole point.

So when I found a recipe here for homemade pitas, I thought, "I have to try this." One of the interesting things I've discovered about living overseas is that you can make almost anything from scratch. I even found a recipe recently for homemade vanilla, but you need vanilla beans and vodka, and I have neither.

I didn't have high hopes because it seems a bit tricky to get something to poof up in your oven. I was forewarned that not all of the pitas would puff up. They didn't, but some of them did! Three in fact, out of eight, which is a good statistic if you're say, a major league baseball player. Not so good if you're a doctor and you're counting "lives saved today." But this is pitas, so I say "good." It was really fun to watch them puff up! I felt like a mad scientist, "It's working!!" The ones that didn't puff up I brushed with olive oil and sea salt, baked a little longer, and made into pita chips to eat with the hummus I made (I heart hummus).

The rest I froze for later consumption, like today at lunch. Here's my yummy tuna and lettuce pita sandwich. It was so good I wanted another, but I was out of tuna. And mushrooms and alfalfa sprouts as well.

So you're saying it's me

Despite having a dad with a dark green thumb, I do not have one that's even tinged green. In all fairness, in the past 10 years of my life there hasn't been much green to thumb in my urban world. But it seems like all the plants I have adopted have come to my house simply to die. I suspect that down at the nursery, there are signs up warning plants not to come with us or they will face a certain death. The only two plants I have managed to keep alive have been a bamboo plant in China, and an unidentified species here in Singapore. It must have been a cactus, because it objected to being watered more than once every 1-2 months. The less the better. In the end though, it too made a slow and steady decline.

My conclusion was that we just don't have good conditions in our house for growing plants. We get some direct light, but we have no outside place to put plants where they could get sun, rain, etc. I enjoyed this, "See, it's not me, it's my house!" position.

Then a week or so ago, Lisa was making something with peppers. She took a handful of pepper seeds and dropped them in an old pot full of leftover dirt (and the remains of some previous failed plant). Within a few days, sitting on top of our dishwasher, they had sprouted.

They are now about four inches tall. We're aware that they are too crowded in their little pot, but we are amazed that they are growing. And I have had to acknowledge that possibly, it's me.