Uganda in a week. Uganda in a week.

My mantra all day has been “We’re leaving for Uganda in 7 days.” Then I pause and wait to see if my eye is twitching. It isn’t, which deeply concerns me. Then I go back to working for five minutes, then think “We’re leaving for Uganda in 7 days.” Why the continued suspicion of twitch? Well, because despite my obsessive nature, I’ve managed to procrastinate rather violently up to this point. Only two days ago we finally got the piece of paper in the mail that we’ll take to the plane that will let us travel thousands of miles. Because I don’t even have a packing list yet. And don’t get me started on my thorough lack of knowledge concerning our bank account.

What I’ve been telling myself is that I am not simply experiencing the bliss of ignorance, but that somewhere, deep in my soul, I actually trust God to provide more than I realize. The idea that I’m actually spiritually mature enough to not knaw through my own wrist at this point hadn’t occurred to me.

Hopefully last night’s meeting proved that true: While knitting faithfully on the second Stairway to Heaven front, I sat across my pastor’s office from Jared and listened to the last mission team, Fr. Terry and vestry member Tim, as they passed the baton of their cultural and spiritual experience on to us. Now, we’re not travel virgins, but neither of us have been to Africa, and we haven’t made an overseas trip together before. Let alone … alone. It’s just us and the jungle here. But they were sensitive, positive, and excited for us, which we thoroughly appreciated (though after a collective 20 hours of sleep over four days, Jared was a little out of it).

I didn’t take any pictures of StH from that meeting, but it did have some adventures recently which I can share:

The first front got to see the beginning of the Orioles game. (You’ll see I decided to stick with my original weird-ish design. Figuring that the big cuddly neck is going to fold over at the top, as there are no closures on the thing, I crossed my fingers and figured I was not on smack when I made this design. What I haven’t yet decided is whether to fix the wonky armholes on the back by frogging [excuse me while I choke on my tongue] or by some creative fiddling involving picking up stitches and knitting a little addition. I’m leaning towards the ladder; who’s going to be examining her armpits anyway?)

I really wanted the Oriole to come over to our section so I could ask it to hold StH, but it didn’t come close. Besides, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to do it… I am at the point of knitting chutzpah that I will knit in almost any public place, but I don’t yet know if I’d yet ask mascots and/or complete strangers to hold my current project for a picture. Besides, that’s the Yarn Harlot’s thing, and if I’m going to be a Real Blogger I probably need my own gimmicks. (How about compulsive, embarrassing forthrightness?)

Unfortunately, the second half of the front of StH (or at least its ribbing) watched the Orioles get trounced by the Mets. They ralleyed at the end, but it wasn’t enough to Overcome. I consoled myself with cotton candy

(yes that is cotton candy; you did not catch me breathing pink fire, or exhaling smoke from pink cigars) provided by my crazy-generous father-in-law, who consoled himself by trying to win the “Fan of the Day” award with his daughter.