Phillip and I had a nice lunch today with Jasmine and Chris, at a new Indonesian restaurant in the U District. Then, Phillip and I went to the mini golf course at the Interbay Golf Center, on 15th, between Queen Anne and Magnolia. The mini golf was a scouting trip for our July CAP adventure.

It was a nice 18-hole course. I think I liked it just a little bit better than Phillip did. It was part of a serious golf center that included a golf course and a driving range - thus, it was technically a "putting course," not a miniature golf course. There were no "themes" - no windmills or dinosaurs - just a nicely landscaped course with a variety of trees, bushes, and water. The lack of themes was a negative for Phillip. The course needed some repair, but not much - one of the waterfalls wasn't working at all. (There was a sign, however, saying that the carpets are going to be replaced in April. Maybe they'll do more repairs as well.) Another negative is that it was all outdoors, which could be a problem if we chose it for our CAP outing, and it rains that day.

On the positive side, it was a challenging course. There were plenty of doglegs, inclines, roughs, rocks, and banks. Every hole was different. The 11th hole was especially tough - hit the ball wrong, and it rolls all the way back to the tee.

The price was reasonable, with group discounts. It took us a little over an hour, including waiting for the groups ahead of us, to finish the course. I thought it was interesting that the course was unsupervised, and, unlike that course in Skyway, the 18th hole didn't collect our balls. We could, if we wanted to, play our favorite holes, or the entire course, several times for our admission price. Also, beer is allowed on the course - that's another plus.

We still have other mini golf courses to check out, but I feel that the putting course at Interbay is one to consider. It was certainly a lot better than that course in Skyway.

The theme of Pushing Boundaries (or Breaking Barriers) continued yesterday evening.

At the start of class, Lisa pointed out that most of the students had been there a long time, so from that point on things would be intensified. It seems that while our class is still "level I-II," it's swinging closer to the II than the I. That was kind of scary, in an exciting sort of way. We're getting into a lot of inversions.

Lisa led us into a pose that I don't know the name of. I'm not sure if I can describe it, but I'll try. It started out as the Plank Pose (like the upper half of a push up), except with your right foot next to your right hand, with your right knee bent outside of your right arm. Then, we put our left hand on our left hip, and shifted into a Side Plank, and as we did, we lifted our right foot and wrapped it around our right arm. "By the way," said Lisa, "this is not a beginning yoga pose." I couldn't do it. Most of the class couldn't do it. But we tried.

This was one of my favorite moments in yesterday's class: As we began the Wheel Pose, one of the students, who I think was there for the first time, asked, "What are the dangers of this pose? I mean, what risks are there if we do it wrong?" Lisa answered, "None - well, none except embarrassment."

I meant to write this yesterday, but with yoga class, and writing the Church Council minutes, I just didn't get to it:

Yesterday, Phillip took the day off. He gave me a ride to work, and bought me a donut on the way. He's a good boy. Along the way to work, he commented that he was surprised that I hadn't put a link in the post I wrote about Beth Quist.

That was an oversight. We I got to work, I edited that post and put in a link to the record company, Magnatune. When I did, I discovered something amazing: Not only does Magnatune offer full-length clips from Beth Quist's albums, it allows you to play the entire albums from their website! (I assume they do that for their other artists, but I haven't checked it out.) So I started yesterday at work listening to all three of Beth Quist's albums - three hours of music. As I started the third album, my boss asked me to turn the volume down, because it was "too mellow."

Maybe I should explain those last two entries. Maybe they don't need explaining. I'm not actually planning on going anywhere on March 19. I was just feeling some wanderlust this morning, and decided to visit the Nederlandse Spoorwegen website and play with the trip planner. I wanted to reminisce about those train rides I took across the Dutch countryside in 1995. I picked the date of March 19 more or less at random. I picked Den Helder because it's a northern, coastal town. I've never been there. In 1995, I never got to the north half of The Netherlands. I like coasts.

I had fun planning an imaginary train trip. I decided to try it again. I picked Iceland - a country I'd like to visit someday - but discovered that it doesn't have trains. I turned to Ireland - another country I'd like to visit someday. Dublin seemed like a good starting place. I picked Sligo from a map - knowing nothing about it - because it, too, is a coastal town.

What is it about coastal towns? Is it that coastal towns tend to be full of people from elsewhere, and the towns tend to be so full of mixtures? Is it that the coastline adds a border that limits sprawl?

I started walking home today, and when I approached St. James Cathedral, I noticed that a lot of people were still at the 60 bus stop. I looked behind me and saw the 60 approaching. I rode the rest of the way home. I thought about how ironic it is that when the bus is late, I get home early.

As the bus passed First Christian Church, work crews were at work tearing down the church building. The church building had suffered serious damage during the 2001 Nisqually Earthquake, and the financially strapped congregation was never able to afford the repairs. It's odd how sad I can feel at seeing a place I've never been going away.

On the other hand, since Iceland doesn't have a rail system, I could fly to Dublin on 19 March instead. Then I'd go over to Connolly Station, to platfom 4, and catch the 13:35 train to Sligo. I'd arrive in Sligo at 16:38. Since I'd want to spend some time sightseeing after a three hour train ride, I'd purchase a 5 day return ticket for 33.50 euros (about 44 US dollars). That, except for the euro exchange rate, is according to the Iarnród Éireann (Irish Rail) website.

If I were to fly into Amsterdam on the 19th of March, in the morning, and take the shuttle to Centraal Station, I could take the 12:19 sneltrein (express train) to Den Helder. I'd arrive there at about 13:40 (there's construction on the tracks, so there may be delays). A second class return ticket would cost me 21.40 euros (about 28 or 29 US dollars). That, except for the euro exchange rate, is according to the Nederlandse Spoorwegen (Dutch Railways) website.

A while ago, Phillip emailed me the name of a song: Om Asatoma Sad Gamaya, by Beth Quist. He said he liked it, and thought I'd like it, too.

Unfortunately, he emailed it to me at work, where my computer doesn't have a sound card. I meant to look it up when I got home, but I forgot.

Now, I have a new computer at work, and it has a sound card. I remembered Phillip's email. I looked up the song, and found a full-length sample from the record company. Phillip was right - I like it a lot. Several reviews I read afterwards compare Beth Quist to Tori Amos, but personally, she reminds me more of Loreena McKennitt.

I listened to some more tracks on Beth Quist's three albums. Everything I heard was wonderful, but Om Asatoma Sad Gamaya was still my favorite.

I did some internet searching and learned two more things: Beth Quist is a local Seattle musician, and "Om Asatoma Sad Gamaya" is Sanskrit, and means something like "Spirit, lead us from the darkness to the light."

I don't need more music, and I'm watching expences, but that third album is awfully nice.

I wonder how close I came to being elected Church Council President last night.

When the Council meeting began last night, we were without a president, and no one was stepping forward to fill the position. We had a long group discussion about what we expected from the office, and why were we all so afraid of the position. (It was one of our best meetings, actually.) I admit that there were a few times in the discussion that I began to think that the job wouldn't be absolutely impossible - that, given help, I just might be able to do it.

After about a half hour of discussion, and still no one had agreed to take on the position, our pastor decided to take a secret ballot. We were requested to write the name of the person we would like to see as president.

I'm not supposed to know this, I suppose, since it was a secret ballot, but our pastor was sitting on the same couch as me, next to me, and she accidentally dropped a few of the ballots between us, and I happened to see one ballot, and it just happened to be the one on which one of my fellow Council members had written my name.

I did some more writing last night on that piece about my walks home from work. I was thinking I'd just about have it finished for Writers' Group this Sunday.

Then, this morning, it occurred to me that this Sunday is the CAP bowling party, which Phillip and I decided to RSVP "yes" to. I hate when that happens.

When we decided to go to the bowling party, we also decided to keep a close watch on the number of people who have said they'd be there. As of last weekend, that number was seven (including the two of us).

When I got to the bus stop this morning, there was a homeless(?) woman sitting on the bench in the bus shelter. There were four or five women standing in a semicircle around her. The standing women were dressed a little more affluently than the sitting woman. I couldn't quite figure out if they all knew each other, but they seemed to be enjoying each others' company. The sitting woman was doing almost all of the talking, from what I could hear. The idea of a street ministry crossed my mind.

The sitting woman seemed to be going through a lot of topics and emotions - sometimes laughing about things, sometimes complaining, and sometimes just telling the other women about the things she's bought at Value Village. The volume of her voice kept getting louder and softer at random times, making it interesting to eavesdrop.

I heard the sitting woman saying: "...I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, he was sticking his hand through my window, trying to steal my whole bag of bagels. The nerve of him! I could of killed that ******, and I nearly did." (Followed by laughter all around.)

That same woman continued her monlogue through various topics, including something about the Safeway up on 15th, followed by: "...bells was going off all over the place. All I took was one can of beer. JUST ONE ****ING BEER! They was all flippin'! What's the matter with them, anyway? It was JUST ONE ***ING BEER!"

(It's all in the perspective, I thought to myself.) It was good to see that woman enjoying herself, whoever she was, surrounded by people listening to what she had to say, whoever they were.

Some days, I feel disconnected. I wake up, do the things I need to do, say the things I need to say, and don't do the things I can get away with not doing, and I end up feeling like I haven't made contact with anything or anyone.