Ahhh, The Church Skip

Yesterday was a pretty busy day. It was the Twin Cities MCC Relief Sale, and I got roped into helping volunteered to help with the children's activities. So, bright and early, I drove out to the site, uttering mild (non-violent, of course) curses at the 12 helium balloons obscuring my rear-view vision.

I lurve me some Mennonite action, as you all know, so it was fun to hang out in the world of verenkje and quilts for the day. Given that there's only two Mennonite churches in the cities, the lion's share of the work is done by the two congregations. A far cry from rural Manitoba, where everyone who's anyone is somehow connected to Mr. Simon either by birth/marriage/church affiliation. But also kind of nice to know so many people there.

My best part of the day was when The Girl got stuck in a tent on the auction stage with eleven other kids; the tent was a refugee tent used to house Bangladeshi refugees and the auction participants were told that each $400 bid (the amount MCC requires to build new homes for families rendered homeless by the cyclone) would free one of the children from the tent. The Girl was told she would be first out; I think the idea was that the teens in the back were last on the list because everyone figured they'd be in there for awhile (if they got to come out at all). I mean, this wasn't a "real" auction item; no one got to actually take anything home.

Well, they couldn't get those kids out as fast as they were "freed"; MCC raised 12X$400 within about one minute. Got me all teary-eyed to see people in somewhat unstable economic times throw their money about like that.

Then, as soon as I got home (cursing the now-16 balloons that were in my backseat, having been told to "take some home for your kids"), it was time to get ready to go to a party. An actual grown-up evening, a party without Pokemon-themed cakes or treat bags. Ordinarily, I would have come up with some excuse to get out of a party where I knew no one (it was put on by one of The Husband's coworkers), but after the whole "maybe it's time to find some friends who don't live 8 hours away" decision last week, I put on my brave girl panties and off I went. And, of course, I met some really nice people. (Mental note: stop being so darned shy.)

Today's been semi-uneventful. We skipped church, one of my favourite things to do. Now I firmly believe that there's lots of things that you should do because they're good for you even though you don't always want to (see: exercising, eating only half the bag of Old Dutch chips, not wearing yoga pants to work), and usually I put church attendance on that list. But every so often, I like to stay home, just to remind myself that I go because I choose to, not because it's just part of the routine.

Out and about running errands, my usually stalwart (if creaky) car suddenly sounded like it was driving over four tin cans and lost power steering. I was able to pull over, call The Husband (who confirmed roadworthiness of the limping home variety), and brought the ol' girl back. It's something about a belt and an alternator pump and a tension thingamajig (read: $$$$). So, we're a one car family for awhile again. Thank you Jesus for a husband who likes to bike to work and public transit!

So, y'all can keep driving, I guess - nothing to see here folks - just another typical weekend in the PM house: Mennonites, wild parties, and car breakdowns.