Bilaeva

Dad found the niftiest thing on eBay yesterday. It's a $3 bill printed by The Kirtland Safety Society and signed by a Mr J. Smith Jr and a Mr S. Rigdon. Now why do those names sound familiar?! Oh, and it was selling for a bit over $8,000.

Joanne has been trying over the last year or so to persuade me of the importance of commencing an engagement with a weighty piece of high grade carbon, ie a diamond. I don't particularly care for the look of diamond engagement rings. Mum never had one and I thought them clunky and frankly rather unsightly when I first noticed them on womens' fingers. Joanne promised that when I got a look at the REAL thing my feelings on the matter would change and we decided we would do a field trip to Tiffany's one lunchtime to see what it really means to sparkle. We almost didn't make it as Joanne is leaving EMI at the end of this week, but we managed to squeeze it in a little adventure yesterday.

I will freely admit to being dazzled. Engagement rings and wedding bands have their own floor and we toured around all the display cabinets, Joanne describing to me all the different cuts and settings. They all danced with light and colour, and even despite some shapes and settings that weren't all that appealing, the diamonds themselves were beautiful. My favourite cut was definitely the emerald cut:

Now, I haven't been completely seduced. As much as I fell in love with these gorgeous little rectangles, I still don't particularly want to one. Not as an engagement ring anyway. If for no other reason, I wouldn't want to feel obligated to have to wear the thing. And the cost is so frightening. I think I would still be more than happy with a pretty little ring from the antique jewelry stalls at the Portobello Road. But if my future husband ever did happen to find himself with a spare $7,000 sloshing around in his bank account, then an emerald diamond for his stunning wife might be just the ticket.

I forgot to ring my Dad on his birthday yesterday (I have no excuse) so to make amends I'm going to gush about him.
This is Dad in his younger days. It's sort of how I remember him as a child, with a bit less hair perhaps. The advent of the eighties brought his hair above his ears, but thankfully, the moustache remained pretty much intact! It did disappear for a few years when I was a teen, but it's back for good now!

Dad is definitely the grooviest guy I know, in fact, he's the complete package. He really does know EVERYTHING. He used to tell us that when we were little and we didn't believe it for a second, but now I'm convinced it's true. He's smarter than me even, so that ought to tell you something. He's curious about everything and will never tire of learning new things. I know that doesn't jive with what I just said in the previous sentences, but if you knew my Dad, you'd get it.

He's loving and kind. He's very generous, and a shopaholic, and I've done very nicely out of that. He's very open and friendly and likes to get to know new people. No one moves into our ward in Saudi Arabia without being be-friended by my Dad. He can get along with just about anyone. He sees potential in people and helps them to develop it. He thinks he's really funny. And he is.

He's a bit of a chatterbox (and he likes to call himself that) so thank goodness for internet phone service. He's never jealous of us kids or my Mum and will gladly send us off on a whirlwind trip to some city he himself would love to visit while he sits at home in Saudi Arabia. He's just happy that we've been able to do something he knows we'll enjoy. And best of all, he was clever enough to pick the grooviest girl in the world to be his misses.

Did I mention he's devilishly handsome?!

In honour of World Refugee Day this past Tuesday I wanted to tell you about something really cool I heard about in a podcast from Wisconsin Public Radio.

They're called Lifeline Radios. The radios have been developped specifically for use by children in developping nations; they are easy to use and virtually indestructible. In Africa, the radios are primarily distributed to communities of children, most of them Aids orphans. The programming gives them vital information on health care and Aids prevention, as well as instruction on farming techniques and animal husbandry. So many of these children are the head of their household with no parent or guardian to instruct them in how to care for themselves and their siblings. For many of these children the radio serves as a comforting, parental voice that reassures them and even helps them get to sleep at night. The radios are shared among a community so it brings people together to listen and work together as a community.

As I was listening to this programme, I was reminded yet again how much Heavenly Father loves and wants to care for ALL his children, not just those of us lucky enough to live in relative luxury in the developped world. He has found ways to help them by inspiring people to develop technologies and set up programmes that help people to support and care for themselves. With all the turmoil and suffering in the world, it is comforting to know that He isn't ever giving up.

If you want to know more about the Lifeline Radios, go to the Freeplay Foundation website. It costs $55 to sponsor a radio. This includes the purchase of the radio and it's delivery to the community with training and instruction on how to use it.

Michael and I went to the theatre last night, along with his brother Stephen and a friend. It might have been a double date. I'm not sure. It would be cool though, as that would be another first for me. The show wasn't outstanding, but it was entertaining enough and the seats were pretty comfortable. We had a laugh and for $5 you can't really top it.

I haven't thought much about going to the theatre since I've been here. Strange, as theatre is such a part of the city. I've had a couple offers to join Stephen and company (he gets heavily discounted tickets through some sort of theatre organisation he's a member of) but have always had to decline for one reason or another - he always seems to call when I'm in Jersey with Joanne. Anyway, now I've been once, it's peaked my interest. I'd really like to see Alan Bennett's play The History Boys but that just won a Tony so no doubt the tickets will be hard to come by.

Continuing our occassional series on Bovees holding other people's babies, here I am with Joanne's friend Neil's little son Jonas. Jonas is nine months old and we have been following his adventures via his own blog since the very day he was born. I have been pestering Joanne for months to fix up a lunch date so we could meet the little fella in person and yesterday we were finally granted an audience. As we walked into the restaurant and caught our first glance of Jonas, live and in person, we gasped in delight. It was like meeting Mick Jagger or the Queen, only like way better.

Jonas has just started walking, and was desperate to get down on the floor and show off his new trick. Just one problem, he's hidden all his shoes. He likes to play with them and has stashed them somewhere in his apartment where his Mum can't find them,, so he came into town from Brooklyn shoeless. No worries, I took him for a little walk around our table with him walking on my feet. It didn't work so well, but he did find the activity mildly amusing and it produced a photo-worthy grin.

Stephen had asked me to send him any pictures I had of Mum as a baby, but I think everyone needs to see these.

She really hasn't changed much.

Jonathan is desperate to be a big brother. He'd even settle for becoming a cousin. There's no immediate hope on either front, unfortunately, so he's having to make do with fussing over other people's babies. Here he is on Saturday holding our Luton friend Aleysha Freeman's son Jayden, born just that morning. Jonathan has always been good with babies, holding them very carefully and dispensing gentle kisses. He's a natural.

I've finally come face to face with the real life gangs of New York...

Yeah ok, not really. This is just my gang of friends playing a game called "Family Business". It's a mobster card game where you put out contracts on people and have mob wars and try to rub out everyone else. It could get rather vicious, but we're all just too nice for that.

This is Kristian and Jill politely murdering each other's mobsters. Now, don't get me wrong, we definitely play to win and there is plenty of rivalry. There's also lots of good-humoured ganging up on people and obliterating them.