Reflections on: Perceived Necessities

As I sit down to write the first of several long-overdue New Zealand updates, I glance back at previously written & unfinished blog posts in my folder.  One catches my eye; “Perceived Necessities.”  “Hmm, I wonder what I was writing about there,” I ask myself, and open it.  As soon as I begin to read, the applicability of the topic makes me laugh.  “When did I write this,” I wonder, and see that it’s dated over a year and a half ago.  I left it unfinished, & thus unpublished, but now I think it will serve well as a little background to what I’ve gone through more recently.

February 2011
I move often.  In past 2 years, I’ve moved 5 times (including this time).
Every time I move, I have to reconsider what to bring & what to leave, and what will happen to the things I leave (storage, give away, loan).
I keep a lot of stuff.  Question: if I’ve kept it for a year & not used it, will I really use it in the future?  Too often, can’t bear the thought of permanently parting with it.  Question: if I don’t need it now or in the next year, why did I buy/acquire it in the first place?  Was it necessary?  Are there things I perceive to be necessary NOW that a year from now I’ll wonder why I spent the money on them?
Unfortunately, I’m such a planner & back-up-plan person that most of the time my answer is “I got it because I needed it then, I don’t need it now b/c I’m in a shared/family household, and I will need it again later when I’m on my own again, or married.”  And then, of course, there are the boxes of memorabilia items that would otherwise be trashed except that they remind me of various good times.

…That’s as far as I got with that post, but I’m sure I was about to launch into the difference between perceived and actual value of belongings, and refer to journal entries I had written about watching movies where people have one or two hours to grab their most important possessions (& only as much as can fit in one bag) and flee the country to save their lives, and contemplating how difficult that may or may not be for me if it ever came down to that.  More on this later.

November 2012

In case you’ve missed the memo, one month ago I flew to New Zealand for a year-long working holiday.  I was moving out of my apartment in Flagstaff and anything I kept was getting stored in Tucson.  Once again I was facing the “I’m moving, so what do I take/leave?” dilemma, but this time the “things to take with me” list couldn’t be the familiar “what fits in the car,” list, but rather the “what can I take on the airplane” list.  

Additionally, as the writing above indicates, I had long been contemplating how many of my possessions are really worth putting into storage.  The alternative?  Sell them & have the cash on hand.  Whereas previously this idea didn’t take root very easily for me, now being faced with a year (or more?) abroad & knowing I’d need all the cash I could get, I found new motivation for this course of action.

Thankfully, I was able to sell a sizeable handful of things in Flagstaff.  Sadly, not enough.  So what I could fit in my car, I took down to Tucson in hopes of selling it there the week before I flew out, and what couldn’t fit in the car got left behind for roommates to use or sell.  In Tucson, I tried to advertize things on Craigslist, but it’s such a big city that my post got pushed to the fourth page of results within 24 hours, and I didn’t stay on top of updating it.  So my Mom is mercifully putting up with a bunch of my things sitting around that I had really hoped to get rid of before I left.  Maybe I’ll still be able to find buyers if I repost my ad.

Anyway, many people have asked me “how much are you taking with you?”  Before I packed, my answer was “just what I can fit in a backpacking pack, a regular backpack, & my computer bag.”  With those limits in place, I sorted through my clothing & gear and decided which items were multi-purpose enough to be justified (a year’s worth of Sabbath & nice-occasion clothes consists of one black skirt, one pair of black slacks, a handful of shirts to mix & match, a wrap skirt & 2 dresses), or which items were specific-purpose enough to be justified (things to hike in, things to swim in, things to rock climb in, things to work in, appropriate shoes for each case, etc).  Once my packing was complete, my answer was “too much.” 

5.8 lbs too much, to be precise.  Which I found out at the airport.  I figured I’d be over the weight limits before I left the house, but I couldn’t think of what else I’d leave behind, so I decided I’d just bite the bullet & deal with it.  When I checked in & the agent weighed my backpacking bag (the regular pack & computer bag qualified as my carry-on & personal item), it was 5.8 lbs over 50.  So the agent asked if I’d be able to take anything out & put it in my carry-ons (no, they were stuffed to the gills) or if I could trade heavier items in my checked bag for lighter items in my carry-ons.  The difficult part about this idea was that I had been as strategic as I could with putting all my heaviest things in my carry-ons to start with, so there wasn’t much available to trade for lighter weight. 

I asked her how much extra I’d be charged. 

She looked it up in the system.  She called an agent from the other airline I’d be transferring to also.  Then she looked up at me with the total; “$150.” 

Whoa!  I was prepared to pay $30 or so, but not $150.  I asked her if she was serious. 

She was. 

I asked her if I had time to TRY and see what I could do. 

She said I did. 

I stacked my bags against the wall near her desk, & started pulling things out. 

She weighed some stuff for me so I knew what my target was. 

I tried to figure out how that plus a little more could trade with something in my carry-ons. 

She dealt with the next customer in line. 

I continued trying to identify the items of proper weight & size trade-ability. 

She noticed how carefully I had packed things.  

I worried I’d end up late for the flight, but didn’t say anything & kept trying to reorganize. 

She had pity on me, came over, leaned down & said quietly, “just go ahead & put it all back like you had it.” 

I looked up with grateful hope in my eyes & asked, “really?”  

“Yeah,” she replied, “just make it look like we did something.” 

“Thank you,” I said, almost in a whisper.  And she handed me my boarding pass.

Upon arriving in New Zealand, I was then faced with standing in line for quite a while to get through customs & immigration.  I didn’t have any problems getting through, but there were just sooo many people, I was in line for a long time.  And had plenty of time to look around at all the other travelers and evaluate how much they had with them.  Some people made me feel proud of myself for being able to get everything so much tidier than their bags looked.  Others made me feel an unspoken camaraderie as I could tell they were doing something very similar to me.  And still others made me feel like a total newbie at this, as they were clearly experienced adventure-travelers who had gotten the hang of traveling light.

Upon getting picked up from the airport & taken to my first temporary dwelling, my greetings of “it’s so good to see you!” also included “girl, what did you pack!?!”  For my first two weeks, I felt like I had just the right amount of stuff with me.  I was never lacking for what I needed, and anything I wasn’t using yet, I trusted I would somewhat soon-ish.  Then I took a week-long trip, & took everything with me.  Yes.  Everything.  And suddenly, it was more than “too much;” it was now ridiculous.  

All the same stuff from the first photo, but now "exploded," as my car travel didn't need to be as strategic as airplane travel.

The next trip I took was three days, and had a very specific purpose & set of activities.  I successfully packed only the regular backpack & my computer bag.  And I still didn’t even use everything.  My sense of necessity was finally being pared down.  And now, I’m on a two-week-long trip.  This one involved a plane flight, and I was limited to carry-ons only.  Once again, the backpack & the computer bag.  And neither is stuffed to the gills.  Sure, there are things I wonder if I will wish I had brought.  But there’s also a little feeling of freedom in my lightness.  True necessities are actually quite simple when you get right down to it.

Often, as I contemplate actual vs. perceived necessities, I find myself recognizing how privileged I’ve been to grow up in the country & socio-economic environment I have.  Media of the past 50 years has made the world a much more know-able place, if you open your eyes to it, and I’ve seen how “humble” the majority of the world’s population lives.  I’ve also been blessed enough to travel internationally, and experience what is normal for many.  I still recall my trip to Africa, now seven years ago, and all the sights & sounds & smells of that world.  When I spent a weekend in London on my return trip from Ghana, the contrast was nearly overwhelming to think about.

So what about you?  How honest with yourself are you about your necessities in life?  When you sit in your home & look around, do you find yourself feeling like you really do need most of what you have?  Or are you able to distinguish between perceived necessities & actual necessities.  If someone told you right now that your life was in danger & you had one hour to pack a bag & flee into hiding, how easily would you be able to identify the things that really mattered?

Reflections On: Returning to Flagstaff

Well hello, lots of catching up to do in this post!  Actually, so much time has passed that I don’t really feel like writing everything that I might have if I had written as things happened.  You might be in luck with a short post?  Haha.  Who am I kidding?  Ok, a shortER post.  ;-)

Anyway, I returned to Flagstaff in December after that climbing trip in Joshua Tree (What trip? See “Reflections on... Life in SouthCarolina (Part 1)”), and moved into an apartment with a handful of other 20-somethings.  For a couple of weeks I didn’t have much to do besides settle into my new room, read books, do creative projects like beading, and check out whatever entertainment the roommates were providing in the living room (like having the TV on while someone is playing a video game, someone else is painting nails, and at least two separate text conversations are happening).  Oh, and try not to dwell on my recent turn of events (If you missed it, read “Reflections on... Life in South Carolina (Part 2)”).  Eventually, though, the spring semester started.  Fortunately, the way my classes were scheduled, I was able to just focus on two at a time, which meant they moved at a quick pace, but I didn’t have my attention divided in too many directions. 

I also picked up shifts now & then at Starbucks, and then later in the semester officially transferred into the Flagstaff store & got put on the schedule.  I also applied, was hired & trained as a Rescue Guide for the brand new FlagstaffExtreme Adventure Course!  We trained in February & then spent March, April & part of May getting comfortable with the course, practicing our skills, getting all the little detail things settled out, and training our Safety Patrollers.  Now, finally, at the time of my writing this, we ARE open!  J  It’s pretty awesome, and now that summer has arrived and we’re running 7 days a week, I’ll be working lots of hours there.  I expect that between the two jobs, my summer is going to be packed with work.  My only break will be the Sabbath & some buffer time on either side of it.  (Insert: Thank you, God, for giving us the Sabbath, because otherwise I’d probably work straight through that, too!)

Ok, so you knew it was coming…  The rest of the story about difficult goodbyes and all that. 

After Ethan & I parted ways in December, he headed to his Wilderness EMT course, and I came to Flagstaff.  At first we didn’t communicate much, but then after a couple of weeks we started just checking in with each other, seeing how things were going.  He successfully completed & certified (congratulations!!) in early February.  He and a guy he met at the course decided to do a mountaineering trip before leaving CA, & then hit the road for a cross-country drive to get home.  On the way, they stopped in Flagstaff so I could take them to the Grand Canyon.  This was something like 6 weeks after our J-Tree “goodbye,” and we had been trying to move on, but being around each other again, even on a short visit, brought all kinds of thoughts & feelings back to the surface.  With his new friend there we didn’t really talk much about it at the time or in person, but it was apparent we needed to talk.  Enter “difficult goodbye #2,” in about-to-fly-to-Chile-for-3-months style.  Since Ethan wasn’t moving to Flagstaff, he was completely open on what he could do after the WEMT course, and took an awesome opportunity to go work on a farm in Chile with his best friend.  I was honestly 200% excited for him/them, but the hard part was the matter of timing.  Right when his recent visit caused us to acknowledge that we really needed to talk about some things, he was leaving to be in South America, with no cell phone, limited internet, and who-knows-what-to-expect mail service.  We emailed some before he left, but I was hoping for a good, open, productive phone conversation.  The closest to that we got, though, was a pick-&-choose-what-to-say conversation while he was in the airport between flights.  L  Thus, my intro to the last post.  As it turned out, internet access was a little more available than we initially anticipated, so that helped ease the after-effects of “difficult goodbye #2,” because we got to continue discussing things that I had felt were left unfinished before. 

Fast-forward summary of things since then: We’ve stayed in touch, although at varying levels from time to time.  He’s back in the States & about to hit the road again for his summer job in California (something about that place is a magnet for him, haha).  I’ve tried to be ok with letting go of the relationship and settle into a friendship, but my heart’s not there yet.  Six months after breaking up, I still wonder what God’s will is in this aspect of my life.

Lest I leave this post on a down note…  In the spirit of trying to dance wherever this brook flows (see my very first post), I have recently taken advantage of some fun opportunities.  My Couch-Surfer-turned-real-life-friend from New Zealand had a chance to fly to the States, & wanted to go to Mexico.  It worked out that I was going to California to see some friends of mine anyway, so we combined trips!  I got to see old friends again, got to have my first Mexico adventure (short as it was, only being able to go for a day because I had to get back to Flagstaff to work), drove many miles & much of it at night, slept in a tent on the side of a desert road, went dancing downtown til 2am (I know, if you know me, you’re shocked!), & simply enjoyed all-around good company & conversation with a great friend.  J  (We’ll just overlook how often Ethan came up in conversation or memory, haha.)

The guys at the Grand Canyon (the non-cardiac-arrest version).

“Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they're supposed to help you discover who you are.”

Bernice Johnson Reagon

Reflections on... Life in South Carolina (Part 2)

~*~

02/19/12

I’ve just said the most difficult goodbye I can recall in recent events.  Maybe it ties with one other.  Both have been since you’ve last read anything from me, and both have been with the same person.  Let’s back up & fill in some more about the past year in South Carolina, first.

I previously mentioned that my move was “for the purpose of finding out if a guy (Ethan) who had entered my life in seemingly Providentially-orchestrated fashion would end up being the man I share a lifetime of future adventures with.”  While I lived with his Mom (Dad was/is on an extended work assignment) and later also his sister, he continued classes in Clemson two hours away and I worked my two jobs closer to home.  We traded off visiting each other on the weekends.  I have put off writing about this topic because, as much as I have wanted to, I haven’t really known how best to do so.  There is so much to consider and process when reflecting on how a relationship develops, and all the ups and downs and growth along the way.  I think it would be safe to say that we both learned a lot about ourselves through the time together.  By November, though, we both felt that while we very much cared about each other and were deeply attached to each other, some serious concerns were demanding our acknowledgment.  He did the courageous thing and took the initiative in our conversation, of which I was very grateful.  We spent a tearful evening together trying to accept the reality of our situation as we had now openly discussed the things that had been privately nagging each of us separately.

One of his reflection spots that he shared with me; where we would read and talk, learn more about each other and enjoy each other's company.

02/26/12

A week has passed since I started writing this “Part 2.”  The pain from last week’s goodbye has subsided some, partly due purely to time, and partly due to the knowledge that out-of-the-country doesn’t necessarily mean unable-to-contact.  “Wait, where?” you ask.  Oh, yes, you need more details.  So picking up the story where we left off…

After that conversation in November, we tried to adjust to not being a couple.  There were moments of relief as the pressures we had been placing on ourselves now no longer needed to be there.  And there were moments of sorrow as we mourned the undesired outcome of the past year.  We had planned on me being in South Carolina until the end of the year, when he would graduate and we would both move west, so at this point, the remainder of my time in South Carolina was to be four or five weeks.  Since he was going to take a month-long Wilderness EMT course in California in January, we figured four weeks was a short enough time that it didn’t make sense for me to leave early, and we could stick to the plan of moving west together.  The difference, now, though, was that while I would still be moving to Flagstaff, AZ to finish a semester of school and graduate, he would not be joining me after his month in CA. 

We joined a group of friends in Joshua Tree, CA for a week of rock climbing, and the last day of that trip was the scene for “difficult goodbye #1.”  After a group lunch everyone said their “this was fun”s and “see you again soon”s with joy for the time we had spent together and cheerful anticipation of the next time we might see each other.  Ethan and I, though, were saying a different goodbye.  One that had been dreadfully looming in the distance.  One that while we were still in South Carolina had been a thing of thought but not reality.  One that we knew was inevitable and necessary, but that neither of us wanted to accept.  Especially after having just spent time with friends doing something we loved and experiencing a week that would have been great bonding time for the two of us if we were still dating.  Our goodbye was pierced with the reality that this now meant physical separation from each other’s company, and had uncertainty on the other side of it.  We were now beginning new chapters of our lives, and due to the recent plot-change, we now had to walk ahead without each other.  We were sad.  We tried to be encouraging and reassuring to each other.  I broke down into full-out sobbing before the car I was riding in got halfway out of the parking lot.

Brought together by climbing, we spent the last week before "goodbye" climbing, too.

Well, further chronological filling-in will take us away from life in South Carolina to now life back in Arizona, so I’ll pause here and wrap up the SC reflections first.  When I think about how that year has affected me personally, I see a mixture of ways I’ve grown and ways I haven’t, things about myself that have become more apparent and things that got lost. 

·         My awareness of types of people and their backgrounds has been expanded.

·         I gained work experience in a different corner of the Parks & Rec field than I previously had been familiar with.

·         My interest in national history was stirred.

·         I had lots of opportunities to practice not being in charge of everything.

·         My self-will follow-through was tested, and failed more often than I’d like.

·         I developed a more realistic understanding (through experience and through study-reading) of relationships and healthy expectations.

·         My often black-and-white views on things have acquired much more grey (sometimes a good thing, sometimes not).

·         I have been able to open up more deeply in close relationships, and have been able to feel less like I need to always answer “how are you?” with a smile and “I’m good!”  (It’s ok to be honest & say “I’m hanging in there,” or “well, kinda struggling today,” or “been better, but the sun is shining” because your willingness to be gently genuine opens an opportunity for the other person to practice their empathy and to connect with you on a personal level.)

·         I learned that when I’m in my efficiency or productivity mode I can unintentionally lack sensitivity towards others, and I need to improve my thick-skin / thin-skin radar.

·         I’ve gotten to practice greater and longer patience.

·         I’ve also discovered how short I can be when that patience is gone.

·         My desire to be tactful or respectful or trusting and thus bite my tongue sometimes results in losing confidence in myself.

·         I’ve come out of this with a lot more questions than answers.

One of our dates included walking the gardens and monuments of the South Carolina State House at night.

Storyline to be continued with “Reflections: On Returning to Flagstaff.”  Yet unwritten, but coming…

~*~

Reflections On... My Life in South Carolina (Part 1)

~*~
There’s much more that I wanted to write about than I have so far, but I thought I’d at least provide some reading material to start with. More to come.

Sunday, 12-18-2011

Night has fallen, and I’m riding in the Red Dragon heading west. Ethan is beside me, in his “road trip zone;” steadily focused, with no stops besides gas until we reach the destination, and accompanied by an enthusiastically selected playlist streaming from the iPod. Trailing behind us is my car, packed like a 3-D Tetris challenge. We’ve been on the road for six hours now, so I’ve settled into reflection mode.

Ten months ago I was traveling alone, heading east, striking out on a new adventure into the unknown. That drive took me four days on the road, one rest day, and four nights of sleeping in beds. On my first day driving, my reflections bounced around between the topics of sojourning, gratitude, and various ways I’ve surprised myself in the course of my life. The second day was filled with observations of billboards I found humorous (whether they intended to be or not). The third day was a chance to catch up with friends of mine & my family, so of course lots of telling people what I’d been up to lately and what I was doing next. The fourth day I started freaking out. I had finally reached a part of the country I didn’t already have a level of familiarity with, and it really sank in that I was moving all the way across the country without any guarantee of a job to move in to a house where my primary companion would be someone I’d only met once (Ethan’s Mom), all for the purpose of finding out if a guy (Ethan) who had entered my life in seemingly Providentially-orchestrated fashion would end up being the man I share a lifetime of future adventures with. All the conversations from the day before must have settled in deep overnight, because when I say I freaked out, I mean I stopped at a rest stop & took some time on the phone to process it more and relax a bit. Thankfully, by the fifth day, I was finishing the drive with excitement.

When I’m not writing about things, my other form of documentation is photos. So, as I look back to the first set of pictures I took, I laugh. The day after my arrival, Niki left on a business trip and Ethan returned to classes. I was all by myself in an unfamiliar place and I recall going through more nervousness as I unpacked & settled into my new room. So a day or two passes, and then what did I photograph? The huge bug I found on the laundry room floor. It was a case of “Ew, what is this? Maybe if I take a picture of it, I can look it up,” but I think I was able to just ask later. The answer: a tick. Now, having spent time in the backcountry of California, I had pulled a tiny black tick off me a time or two before, but this thing had clung to one of the dogs & feasted before turning into a bulbous grey and brown-dusted alien and falling off. Future “welcome to South Carolina” encounters weren’t always photographed, but were frequently given notable consideration. Coming from the rugged west I had learned to be cautious with the vegetation and wildlife, but this humid south was a whole new world to learn. In Arizona, when I went out to work in the garden, I had to wear sunscreen. In South Carolina, I had to bathe in bug repellant. In Arizona, if the trail was free of vegetation, it was clear to pass. In South Carolina, if the trail was free of vegetation I still had to make sure I wasn’t about to walk into a spider web (the largest I encountered in this fashion was occupying a height from waist-level to above head-level and spanning a distance that I’m sure a golf cart could fit through). In Arizona, enough of the plants are shouting “I’m pokey!” that I got used to just avoiding contact with them. In South Carolina, the lush attractiveness of the beautiful greenery was sometimes deceptively distracting from little bristles. In California, I had occasionally gotten a couple rash spots from poison oak, which I nearly expected because I was constantly brushing past it. In South Carolina, I broke out in a poison ivy rash and have no idea how I came in contact with it. In Arizona and California I was alert for deer on the mountain roads. In South Carolina, the deer were prolific right in our woodsy neighborhood.

Back to the current drive, the shuffle has resorted to cycling through these songs now on their, oh, I don’t know, 5th or 6th time, so I’ve got to take a break from the stationary state of staring at my screen. I’m not sure if the link between those two things makes sense to anyone else, but for me, right now, it seems to.

Monday, 12-19-2011

Monday morning. Dawn seemed to last forever before sunrise finally broke behind us. It was an uneventful but still rough night, so we were both glad for the daylight. I have the luxury of sleeping whenever I feel like, but it isn’t comfortable, and I’m hoping the stretch & coffee break I just got helps this headache. Ethan has taken a couple rest stops for short naps, and is feeling alright for now. Last night we passed the Mercedes-Benz Superdome in New Orleans, and it seems smaller than what I had imagined it would have been for functioning as the initial center for Hurricane Katrina relief. Ethan reminded me that they did rapidly overflow. We just crossed into Texas a few minutes ago, and will be spending the rest of the day traversing these 900 miles on I-10. Ethan’s mood has shifted to match the “bigness” of Texas. It’s rather entertaining for now. He has commentary on everything, good or bad. He’s really enjoying the billboards we pass, & is especially drawn to anything food related.

So, back to South Carolina. Having moved to the state only knowing two people, it was comforting to be so warmly welcomed by folks I met in daily routine. Anytime I mentioned being new to the area, there followed questions and conversation and well wishes, even at the grocery store. I quickly got a part-time job at Crooked Creek Park in Chapin with the afterschool program, and was integrated right in. I eventually secured a second part-time job in the mornings with Starbucks, and during my training at a downtown store most of the regular customers were patient and encouraging. When I settled into my “home” store, the regular customers were genuinely interested in who I was, and we’d have conversations as time allowed. By late summer, I reached a point where, between the kids at CCP and the regulars at SBux, I had quite a network of familiarity and would run into people I knew outside of those two settings. As luck would have it, it turned out that I also already knew several of the young adults in my local church congregation! And the folks who composed Ethan’s local congregation (in Georgia) during the school year were so glad to meet me, that we comfortably bounced back & forth between them. Finally, Ethan’s family, both immediate and extended, and his friends, all did their part to make me feel a part of them. The sum of all these social experiences was a sense of community, a feeling that the world isn’t too big, and a refreshed view of people genuinely caring about others, even if they just met.

 ~*~

The second sunset of this trip has long passed, and we’re still in Texas. Just over 200 miles to go before we’re out. At one point this afternoon I tried entertaining myself with an alphabet game, but by halfway through the alphabet we were out in the middle of nothingness and my self-imposed rules restricted qualifying sightings to the letter being the first in a word (or standing alone) and not on vehicles, so my patience was tried with “Q” and I finally gave up after an hour of waiting for a valid “X.” I think I’m a fan of this writing-in-the-car-after-dark thing. It’s a good time of day for thinking, and I don’t get carsick from things in my peripheral vision whipping past. Having a power inverter powerful enough to keep my computer running is a treat, too.


Saturday, 12-24-2011

It’s my first Sabbath morning since leaving South Carolina, and I just got to watch the sun rise over a desert landscape. No, I’m not in Arizona right now, but rather California, just outside of Joshua Tree National Park. A group of friends arrived here yesterday evening for an annual week of wintertime rock climbing. Some years we camp in tents, some years people are in hotel rooms, this year we rented a house. It’s now 7am, so in a couple hours I’ll be helping the other early risers get breakfast going, and I’ll have to have showered & dressed before then, but right now it’s relatively quiet.

The last stretch of the “moving” portion of our drive was a little rougher than the first three quarters of it. There was rejoicing when we got out of Texas, but through New Mexico & the couple hours of Arizona until Tucson, Ethan’s sleep deprivation was calling for more frequent nap-stops and we just wanted to be done. We finally pulled up to the house shortly after sunrise on Tuesday the 20th. The day was instantly filled with greetings, breakfast, errands, and such. We got a decent night’s sleep & then Wednesday morning packed more of my stuff into Ethan’s truck & drove my car and his truck separately up to Flagstaff.

Tuesday, 12-27-2011

Over the past several days there have now been over a dozen witnesses to my consistent crash-at-8pm-but-be-the-first-one-up routine. I believe the surprise of it has passed now, and they just appreciate that there’s already coffee made by the time they’re up. :-)

~*~