25A and 25B

The flight portion of our 2019 missions trip with Praying Pelicans began around 4 pm as we flew out from Logan. Our group occupied seats on the left side of rows 23-25. Realizing that Maddie and I would be seated together I knew Boston to Panama would not be boring. Only minutes after our arrival to the cabin the first duo of giggles escaped and Greg, two rows ahead, turned back and quipped, “Should we apologize ahead of time to the guy sitting next to you two?”

Perhaps we should have.

One conversation began with Maddie stating, “I can’t believe I’m twenty years old and I just learned how dish detergent works.” We discussed this for a few minutes and I ended the conversation with, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Maddie. At least you don’t eat the detergent.” We may have had a few people turn in our direction when we laughed.

When the time for supper arrived, one of our Copa Airlines attendants, Michael, came down the aisle with the small covered dinner trays, concealing a mystery dinner. Aaron remembered the experience from his previous trip and had commented at the airport earlier, “I can’t wait to see what my surprise is.” Standing in front of our row Michael asked, “Beef and mashed potatoes or a pasta with kind of a sweet cheese?” I passed the message to Maddie who had not heard the choices over the roar of the engine. A quizzical look passed between us. “Sweet cheese”? What could this surprise dish possibly be? Maddie figured the unknown was better for her than the beef (which was pretty good) and boldly stated “I’ll take the sweet cheese.” This struck the rest of our crew in the two rows ahead as uproariously funny. We loudly laughed as quietly as possible and ravioli will now forever be known as pasta with sweet cheese. Michael also laughed but I’m not sure why since he began the entire episode. Language barriers are a funny thing.

Giving it a Whirl

Atira has long desired to learn pottery. A wheel that was originally Jodi’s, a lump of clay and encouragement from Maddie and a set of tools from Uncle Chobie and Aunt Laura, small things have fueled her interest. Last night was her first class at Neighborhood Clay in Damariscotta. I’m excited to see how much she enjoys this art form. The wheel has begun to spin.

Labor of Love

Two decades ago I was enduring the labor pains that heralded the birth of the interesting human being known as Nolan Gilbert. This afternoon I endured the labor pains of baking a birthday cake to celebrate the long ago event. My cooking skills are known far and wide to be desperately lacking which begs the question, “Why does Nolan continue to ask me to bake him a cake every year?” Each attempt, I manage to achieve an edible or better product. This year’s request was a chocolate fudge cake. Nolan is a bit of a food snob when it comes to quality ingredients and so I made sure not to skimp on the ever important chocolate ingredients.

The cake was a complete success, although very rich with its fudgey center. My small piece paired nicely with a tall glass of milk. 

Another very pleasant pairing were the notes of “Happy Birthday” being sung on two continents as Jim’s parents joined us from Australia in the familiar refrain.

Happy 20th Nolan! You continue to be a blessing in our lives.