97 years ago today

On June 28, 1914, Franz Ferdinand, who was the nephew of the Austro-Hungarian emperor, was assassinated by a group called the Black Hand. And because they were a Serbian nationalist group, the empire declared war on Serbia. Then Russia, which was bound by a treaty, was forced to mobilize which meant that Germany had to declare war on Russia. Then France declared war on Germany, and that was World War I.

9.7 million military deaths
6.8 million civilian deaths
21.2 million wounded
7.75 million missing

All this, because the emperor's nephew was killed.

I hate my bathroom.

yes. hate is a strong word. no. i'm not backing down from it. it's ok, my bathroom hates me back.

if you stepped out of the shower into a, well, let's just call it a small lake shall we? you'd feel the same way. every towel, rag, hoodie, and anything else i own that can possibly soak up water is currently on the ground in a futile effort. now i'm off to do a few loads of laundry to get this stuff cleaned up. ciao.

aunts and uncles

Coming up on the final day of VBS, there was more than enough time to reflect over the week and the lessons learned. I must admit, I did quite a bit of people-watching this week (the non-creepy kind) and I think I finally have a grasp on why this church is the way it is.

The best part of the day is right at the beginning. I love standing out front and watching the kids trickle in, parents rolling through in cars/bikes/shoes, dropping off their young’uns, some with a hug, a kiss, others with a few words of assurance. I see PGee over in the corner directing hurried parents through the driveway. Kim, Min-Siah and some of the moms steal a moment to get in some early morning chit-chat. Anna runs out to meet each preschooler with a hug and a nametag.

Group after group file into the sanctuary for games, bringing with them happy teachers, tired teachers, teachers worn and stretched thin, and teachers equipped with a strong sense of responsibility. I watched as Christina bring her Dolphin class in and patiently explain to them the meaning of standing quietly in a line. I felt for Caroline as she tried to keep some kids from acting out. Vivian calmly presented each country in the airplane scene, and Cindy dressed in regional attire to pique the interest of the children.

I quietly watched as people quickly flexed and adapted to last minute changes: little shifts in schedules, small changes in activities. I watched as Yingnan and Joshua prepared naan, cornbread, and several other delicious morsels of snacks for the children. I watched as the worship team led the children in new songs appropriately applied to each day’s “up” theme. I watched as the skit team practiced for the next day’s performance, inspiring the kids, who seem to hang on their every word.

I watched these aunts and uncles (titles given, often prematurely, to all the staff members) love and care for these kids over the last few days. These aunts and uncles are why this church is the way it is. These aunts and uncles are why we greet each other at the door and, though we may not all speak the same language; we are more than a polyglot boarding house. Three languages worth of people walk through the doors of this church and yet we form the community that makes up the body.

I love watching these aunts and uncles.

the hunted

It’s a weird feeling…being hunted. The eery, heart pounding, adrenaline filled emotion that courses through me is a little more than I’d like to feel. As I ran across the opening between the two buildings the only thing I could think about was staying alive. I cozied up to the wall as I came up on the corner. I had no idea what lurked around the corner.

Crap. Footsteps.

This isn’t good. Lucas was a few feet behind me…looking to me, as if pleading for me to go first. I peered around the corner, wondering if this was the end.

Whew…just a pair of students walking back from class. We snuck around the corner and ran down the narrow passageway toward the stairway up ahead. The stairwells are the worst. Every few steps, a blind turn. Who knows what lies around the bend? As we eased down the stairs, I see something bounce off the wall. Great…someone’s down there. As I peered around the corner, I didn’t know what to expect. Another one whizzes by.

Oh boy.

As I turned the corner, I see it again. You know that eery feeling you get as something terrible happens, when everything slows down and you can feel your heart pounding as you helplessly watch it unfold before you? I watched as it flew through the air. I turned to jump behind the corner, but I felt it nick me a split second before I was able to get to cover, the nerf dart bouncing off my left leg and finally settling on the stairway.

Bah. Got me.

50 beans | cold brew trials

I’m a nut for iced coffee. Instant, leftovers, even fresh brewed. Any kind of coffee tastes better poured over a cup full of ice. Depending on the methods available, I’ll pour espresso, drip, or even moka (from a bialetti) over a heap of perfectly stacked cubes. Next up…chemex filters :) The problem with all of these methods is…it’s freakin hot. I mean seriously, by the time the drink cools down in the ice, half my ice is gone and I’m left with some fairly watered down coffee. No bueno. But there really isn’t any other way to do it, unless I brewed coffee and left it out all day until it cooled.

Well…

Apparently there’s a form of coffee brewing (traditionally from new orleans) that involves cool tap water and coffee grounds in a mason jar. 12-24hrs later you filter it through a sieve and a chemex or cone filter to get rid of the silt and there you have it: cold brew.

I was skeptical at first. If this method was so great…why the heck hasn’t major coffee shops started doing this already?? The first time I brewed it…I had no clue what I was doing. All my housemates knew was that there was a very very brown jar sitting on the center island. I was lucky nobody got wise and tossed it. After filtering it a few times, I was ready to taste.

I slowly poured it over a large glass of ice and took a sip. Meh, no big deal. Yea it was pretty good, but nothing amazing about it. After downing the whole glass, I was essentially bouncing off the walls. I’ve never felt like this before from coffee, heck I’m the guy that drinks two iced quad-shots during audit and still fall asleep at night. Not this time. After doing a bit of reading online on cold brew, it finally dawned on me. That’s the method for making cold brew concentrate. This stuff is supposed to be mixed with equal parts water for the final product. Yikes…I just chugged a jar of the strong stuff.

Great.

Ok looks like I’m gonna have to give it another go, and let me tell ya, this stuff is awesome. There’s less acidity (supposedly close to 70% less acid than hot brewed coffee). Not really sure what the science is there, but I guess it has something to do with heat and beans creating more acid. No idea, but the mason jar seems to be working. Over the last 2 weeks, I’ve been experimenting with different beans to see what kind gives me the best coffee. I’ll probably post again when I’ve found it, but in the mean time…if you’re ever in the area, roll through and I’ll fix you up a cup.