grandpa.

My grandpa passed away this morning.

He suffered a major stroke last week, and he finally met his Maker in the early hours of this morning.

It's a tough/odd/unwonted thing to deal with from abroad. Never before have I lost anyone close to me. The thought of going home and not seeing Grandpa is bizarre to me. I'll never yell a conversation at him again. I'll never again receive one of his hand-me-down gadgets that I can't live without but he can. I'll never kiss his wrinkled, weathered cheek again. He'll never tell me how I used to when I was a tot cling to his foot while he walked around. I'll never again dance with him in the kitchen as he sings and leads. That makes me sad.

I'll miss my grandpa. I already do.

copan ruins.

The Copan Ruins were amazing to say the least. If you visit me in Honduras, I will take you there.

We had a day off school this week, so the girls and I took our extended weekend in Copan. Alex and Alyssa accompanied as well.

We visited a bird sanctuary called Macaw Mountain. There were parrots, macaws, hawks, and owls. I loved it. The birds were so beautiful.

At the ruins we climbed all over old temples and stood in awe, gawking at huge structures that still stood from the ancient Mayans.

october.

I miss October at home.

It's one of my favorite months. I love the fall. Turning leaves. Crunching leaves under my feet. Pumpkin patch. Corn mazes. Carving pumpkins. Hot cider. Candy corn. Crisp air. Scarves. The playoffs.

cold.

Achachay!

It was frigid this week. I know 50 degrees probably doesn't sound too cold, but let me explain something to you. My house is basically a closed in porch. My classroom has one wall of windows that are open.

I was cold to the bone, and I think that's only the beginning of the winter season here. I suddenly wish I had brought more socks.

Jacki and I used my blow dryer to heat up under our covers. And then we spooned and fell asleep that way.

contentment.

I will never tire of looking at the mountains around me.

Or the stars on a clear night. They're beautiful. I can't see stars like this in the Midwest. Last night the power went out for a little while, and with absolutely no lights to kill the view, the stars were breathtaking. I can't help but think about God's promise to Abraham when I see the vastness of the night sky.

These, among myriad other reasons, make me want to stay here forever.

the simple life.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the difference between my life here and my life back in the States.

Life here is so simple. What I once thought were necessities, aren't. What I thought I couldn't live without, I can.

At home I get in my car and drive to some megamart to buy prepackaged food that I take home and cook in the microwave and eat while I watch something that I DVRed all the while surfing the wireless internet and texting on my cell phone.

I thought I needed those things. But I don't.

I don't have wireless at my house; I have limited internet access the one or two times I head to town a week. I don't have a microwave; I have a tiny gas oven and no counter space for cooking. I don't have television, let alone satellite and DVR; my extent of entertainment is watching episodes of The Office on DVD on my computer (Thank you, Mom, for sending Seasons 1-5.). I don't have a car; I walk to town sometimes and hitch a ride in the bed of a friend's truck or a mototaxi most of the time. There's no Wal-Mart/Meijer/Whole Foods; my shopping is done at one of my student's parent's mini-mart and in the open air market.

If you had told me a few years ago that this would be my life, I would have laughed at you.

But you know what? I love it.

The simplicity of life allows for so much that I didn't know I was lacking. I have so much time to read and think and pray. Boredom is not a companion of mine, rather I find myself journaling out my extensive thoughts or exploring more extensively ideas that I would not have previously given more than a few moments' thought.

I am very thankful for the place in which I currently find myself.

lesly.

This is Lesly Beatríz. She prefers to be called Beatríz. Or Bea. But I call her Lesly.

I have a picture of my brother, Wesley, in my classroom. Lesly is in love with him. She calls herself my sister-in-law. I told her Wes was 27 years old. She said, "Only 18 years!" I told her he was married and that his wife was pregnant. She said, "I will...how do you say...robar?" She asks me every day if she can have Wesley's picture. And every day I tell her no.