fuzzies

(i wrote this on monday).  Sunday was a neat day. I'm going to back up a pinch - the weekend was pretty flippin' swell.  I was tickled Friday evening that 6 English clubbies came to the monthly outreach as well as some other neat people. I then went over to my Albanian sisters' home for shut eye - first watching some Kosovo-made comedy; then playing skipbo and chatting about what we heard that evening. I slept well enough but was woken up a smidge earlier than I would have preferred by the youngest who thought it would be funny to call my phone at flippin' 6.50a on a Saturday morning (after going to bed rather late). She made me Turkish coffee as a peace offering. We putzed, played, giggled, made/ate pite, drank tea, and then I was off at bright 10am. On my trot home, I gave big thanks for the progress of my/our relationship/s with this family.

That afternoon, I took a kombi (public transportation in the form of beat up vans) to Prishtina. I rode with 7 gents in their 50s-70s, and it was an education watching and listening to them. What they have seen and lived through...  

The next day (Sunday), I ran in a half marathon for peace and tolerance in Kosova.  I'm glad I did it, but I don't know what people are talking about when they mention a "runners high."  A girl told me later that she saw me on TV and that I looked like I was about to be sick - which is a pretty accurate description of how I felt.  Anyhoo, i finished the thing, and was able to go on a visit with some colleagues to some people whom I really respect and admire (i don't want to take that for granted...).  

Then came the youth meeting, which went pretty well, and then church.  Maybe my runner's high came after all (a few hours late), because I was having I-love-everything-and-everyone-in-this-corner-of-the-world bliss.  That's probably why i accepted an invitation to go on another visit (pite 3 times in 3 days...) to a family that is starting to feel like family.  Even with sore legs and a slightly irritated belly, I had a blast listening to funny stories, piping in with dweeby comments, playing rumicube with an often-grumpy-but-(today)-totally-agreeable 15-year-old youthie, and washing fresh garden lettuce for a salad.  It feels so good to feel good ;)  Once home, the electricity was out, and I happily accepted the hint that I needed to go to bed (it was, after all, 11pm).   I then fell asleep with a dopey grin of gratitude on my face...and woke up that way, too.  Good weekend, indeed.