I won the lottery. I imagine almost everybody has, at one point or another, fantasized about what they would do if they won the lottery. I certainly have done so, building grand castles in the air of traveling with part of it and investing the rest and living on interest and being able to spend my life doing all the things I actually want to do that don’t make a living. Surely you’ve made plans for the day you’ll win the lottery too, right? Of course, I never thought I’d have to use these plans, seeing as I’m not even a person who plays the lottery, so my already limited odds of winning are nil.
But nevertheless the odds were in my favor and I won the lottery. A couple of coworkers like to give one the occasional scratch ticket, and recently, having been gifted one and sought instruction with what exactly I was supposed to do with it (I am an ignoramus in such matters), I diligently scratched and the numbers magically lined up and I was declared a winner! I took my ticket across the road to the unassuming little deli and redeemed it, rather to the surprise of the bored clerk on service there, and then I had to actually decide what to do with all that money. It’s a responsibility being so rich, you guys! I thought I should probably split it as previously planned- invest part, travel with part, and maybe blow a small part of it on something utterly frivolous. And finally, after all that lengthy introduction, would you all like to hear just exactly how much I won? Only, don’t try sucking up to me because of the riches, because I will see straight through that nonsense…
So, I won… one. whole. dollar. I figure I can invest 60 cents for my old age, spend 15 cents on something frivolous like one kernel of popcorn, and spend 25 cents on traveling, which ought to get me down my stairs and to my front door and back. Isn’t it wonderful?!
Obviously, I also have other things going on in my life besides winning the lottery, small insignificant things like going to London and Oxford and traipsing around the streets my literary heroes walked on and having high tea and all that. I would like to say up front that if I disappear off the face of the earth, you can look for me in one of the little houseboats on the canal in Oxford, where I’ll be making tea in a copper kettle and growing tomatoes on the roof of my boat. Also, my roomie the little Kumquat wrote a lovely post about the trip which you can and should read right here. When we lived (and worked and breathed and danced and ministered) together we were so in sync that we would end up accidentally dressing alike, finishing each other’s sentences, and frequently would be cooking up the same blog post at the same time without consorting about it. So, since she’s beaten me to the first post about London, perhaps I can beat her to writing about Oxford. We’ll see. 🙂
I also did a flying day trip to Boston, in which I spent two thirds of the day on a bus and a wonderful third wandering the crooked cobblestone streets and relaxing in the peaceful park and stuffing my face with the best french toast at Tatte Bakery. I’d wanted to see Boston for ages and it was just as beautiful as I could have hoped. Sort of the teenage American little brother to Oxford, if you will, simply packed with history and knowledge and calm.
One weekend I spent playing the teeniest part in introducing Love Life to this city that needs love and life so much. It’s a pleasure joining with Christians from so many different churches and viewpoints for one common cause under Christ, you know? I also played tour guide to the lovely people who came from North Carolina for the launch, taking them on freezing treks across Brooklyn Bridge and the Staten Island Ferry and shocking them a little with legit Chinese cuisine at the Flushing mall food court. They were troopers, even if they weren’t sure what to think of having intestine in their noodles and eating soup dumplings that stick to your lips and make the biggest mess if you don’t eat them in one bite, and while I didn’t hear any of them begging for more fried tofu, they seemed to enjoy themselves just a bit perhaps. And there were cousins here! Family has been a scarce commodity in NYC, and it was such a treat.
And now it’s almost Thanksgiving, and I am preparing myself, body and soul, to fly to North Carolina and eat very American sized portions of smoked turkey, the best cranberry salad with little squares of cream cheese in it, spicy Chinese vinegar potatoes, dinner rolls with homemade strawberry jam, and more pie than you can shake a stick at. While everyone may think their family’s Thanksgiving meal is the best, I can assure you, mine’s actually is. We have a blend of traditional American, Texan, Chinese, and probably some Amish and Honduran flavors in there, and pretty much to get into my family you have to pass several cooking auditions… Just kidding of course. (But come on family, don’t you think we should implement this?)
And finally my brothers, I am about to have a lot more free time on my hands for the near future, and I have so many posts which have been stewing in my brain, unable to find the energy to form themselves into anything readable. I can’t wait to blast you all with them- hold on to your seats, okay? And as always, tell me if there’s anything you want to read about on Striped Pineapple.
Go under the mercy. (Name that quote)