2017 Week 4: Stories and robots

"This little light of mine . . ." 

I suppose we all question at different times in our lives what our purpose or focus should be. This week I've been asking in what way and where is my little light supposed to shine?  Why do I feel so compelled to write? Is it a futile dream? Will it make any difference?

Sunday was one of the occasional Open House evenings for Pastor Dan's college class, which we've been privileged to join. We had such a good time interacting with a different generation who are asking similar questions for different reasons. They are just starting out desirous of making the right choices. I want to focus on what is really important in this last stage of life and finish well.
Important or not, I had a lot of fun learning how to play euchre.

Open House moment at Pastor Dan's

Monday was the first day of the second semester. Seven students this time.
I sat down and scribbled some goals for myself and for them. I was amused by the similarities and by the fact that I wrote to myself in English and to them in Spanish.

Tuesday as planned I drove up to spend a day with Mother. Hopefully that will become my weekly routine. It happened to be celebration day for January birthdays--a program in the chapel and a dessert in the dining room after. We sat with a newer resident who had met our little family of three (I was a toddler) in New York City on our first attempt to leave for Argentina in December of 1945.

That was only one of the many stories from the past that Mother and I talked about. I discovered several very interesting pieces as I carefully went through my father's files and emptied one of the drawers in the big desk: Dad's sermons carefully typed single spaced with the location and date on the back; a packet of Mother's messages and interesting writings she did not remember; other resources and photos.

In addition, I had brought with me a treasure discovered last week in a random folder: the itinerary from birth to age 72 of my paternal grandmother, the one I hardly knew, and the diary of her last year. I read these to Mother and we counted how many times she moved or traveled from one place to another. We gave up toward the end, after  number 83!

Meanwhile the robotics team is done designing the robot in CAD. Wednesday, after I got back, Michael gave me a short demonstration of how it works. I'm trying to learn more about the whole process, and hopefully be more supportive. 

Looks like Michael is not afraid of the machine that threw him off so forcefully a few weeks ago. I watched him from my loft window as he was bringing back the garbage bin Thursday. And he had already been out for a bike ride!

Friday my neighbor-friend had a surprise for me when we met for our usual coffee hour--she introduced me to her first and only grandchild!

I think little Emmy warmed up to me when I spoke Spanish to her and called her preciosa.

Our own little preciosa is growing up so fast. I loved her photo this week wearing my favorite gray-pink outfit and painted nails.

Rebecca at 29 months

 Saturday was another of those long robotics work-days, something like 14 hours. Thanks to a mentor who takes a lot of photos, I have this glimpse into Mike's day.
I have enough to do around here and stay pretty busy, but it does get lonely.

Build season is at the half-point now so they are big-time into actually constructing the real robot as per their design, two robots in fact. They are allowed to hold back certain parts (up to 30 or 35 lbs.) that can be attached to another practice model after the six weeks are up and they have "bagged" the official yet-to-be-named robot.

Let week # 4 begin . . . tomorrow!