Kurt and Lori are excellent party hosts. Last night, it was a small dinner party: Kurt and Lori, Lori's mom Martha, Stephanie and Denny, Hank, and us. There were steaks and portabella mushrooms on the grill, gin & tonics in our glasses, and homemade pie and cobbler from Steph. (Thanks to Denny for responding to the question, "Which one should I make?" with "Both!") After dinner it was a lively conversation about politics (anti-Bush, of course), hats, the effects of turning 50, films (I still believe Deckard was a replicant), PT boats, and on and on. I think the party could lasted all night if Lori hadn't kicked us out at 10:30.

This afternoon, Phillip and I both left work early to log a visit to Groundspeak Headquarters. We took the tour with a couple from Australia (maccamob), their daughter, living here in The States (Smurf, of Slider & Smurf), and a couple from Woodinville (Puppers). It was a bit of a joke among the group that, with visitors from faraway, we had come from practically next door.

While we were at Groundspeak Headquarters, we launched our latest Travel Bug: "Madge's Curl 'n' Dye" - a sister TB to our first, and most successful, TB: "Flo's Diner." We also picked up a brand new Travel Bug, launched by a member of the Groundspeak Crew - I think he was hoping the Austrailian geocachers would pick it up, but they weren't interested.

We got the strong impression that no one had ever gone through as elaborate a scheme as we did to get an invitation. ("All you had to do was ask," it was pointed out, with a smile. "We didn't know that," I responded, with a smile, and I think they saw my point.) We also got the impression, maybe not as strong, that the Groundspeak Crew were impressed with the work we went through to get through their door. Considering the devious way in which we got our invitation, Phillip and I thought it was only fair that we bring a fruit tray for the crew - I think they were impressed by that, too.

The tour was fun and friendly. We were asked by the Groundspeak president what we liked or didn't like about the geocaching web site. I pointed out a minor thing I didn't like in an otherwise excellent site. Tonight, my suggestion was implemented.

I'd expect something like this to happen in a rural clinic, not a big city hospital: A patient brought us a large bag filled with pre-measured coffee packets. He explained that he'd been given them by a food bank, but that he doesn't drink coffee. He suggested that the clinic staff might enjoy them. We were rather reluctant to take his coffee, until another patient overheard, and suggested that we brew some coffee for everyone. So we did. With our coffee maker brewing in our supervisor's office, and disposable cups "donated" from the staff break room, our clinic became a free coffee shop for almost an hour.

Meanwhile, in the story "La Siesta Del Martes":

"No había nadie en la estación. Del otro lado de la calle, en la acera sombreada por los almendros, sólo estaba abierto el salón de billar. La mujer y la niña descendieron del tren, atravesaron la estación abandonada cuyas baldosas empezaban a cuartearse por la presión de la hierba, y cruzaron la calle hasta la acera de sombra."

(I'm fairly certain that it translates as: "There was nobody in the station. On the other side of the street, in the sidewalk shaded by almond trees, only the billiards hall was open. The woman and the little girl descended from the train, crossed the abandoned station whose floor tiles had cracked themselves from the pressure of the grass, and crossed the street to the shady sidewalk.") I had a lot of trouble with the cracked tiles and the pressure of the grass, and I had to resort to Babelfish to straighten it out, but I'm having fun reading this story. I seem to remember having trouble with "cuartearse" before.

I woke up this morning, knowing that I'd interrupted a dream, but having no memory of what the dream was about. I did remember just one detail of the dream: A CBS News type announcer saying: "If north is the moon, how are we going to kill them?"

I got home a little over an hour ago from my third (and, unless something changes, last) Church Council retreat on Lopez Island. I've taken last Friday and this Monday off from work - Monday is just to have some recovery time. Phillip had expressed a desire to have the car this weekend, which was fine with me, since I was in the mood to be a passenger this year. I rode up with Eric - just the two of us - Friday morning, left his car in Anacortes, and met up with Wayne (who was bicycling) and Lynn (who was driving) onboard the ferry. Eric and I rode with Lynn to the house. Pastor Shannon gave Eric and me a ride to the Lopez ferry terminal this morning. Pastor Shannon is staying on the island until tonight. Eric and I rode the ferry to Anacortes with Tom (who was motorcycling).

Two interesting things happened during our travels: Eric was about five minutes late picking me up Friday morning. We were delayed in Lynnwood by a six (or more) car accident on I-5. Eric estimated that the accident happened about five minutes before we got there, judging by how close we were to the accident when traffic stopped. We were both glad that Eric was late picking me up.

Then, on the way home today, the ferry missed the Anacortes terminal - it came in at the wrong angle and couldn't line up with the car ramp. The ferry backed up, tried to get into the terminal again, couldn't, backed up a second time, and tried a third time without success. Then, apparently, the crew realized that the boat was lined up better for the terminal next to it, and tried for that one. It couldn't line up for that one, either. The ferry backed up and tried the second terminal a second time - still no success. The ferry then backed up very far into the sound, until the terminals were just a detail on the coast. The ferry tried for the first terminal again - and it became obvious to us that we were going to miss the car deck again. Then - accidentally or intentionally - the side of the ferry bumped against a pier, and the front end swung around and lined up with the car ramp. We got docked at the terminal on the fifth attempt. We never knew if the problem was human, mechanical, or natural.

I actually enjoyed the retreat a lot more than I thought I would. I wasn't dreading it, but it just didn't seem important to me. The purpose of these retreats is to look at a perceived issue and/or problem with our church, and then map out a strategy for the upcoming year. This time, the issue was: What is the spiritual core of our church? What is prayer? And who is God?

There are twelve of us on Church Council. Only seven of us, and our pastor, could make it to the retreat, and the seventh Council member wasn't able to get there until late Saturday morning. Long time Council members said that attendance for a retreat had never been so poor. I would have enjoyed the retreat more, if we'd had more people there, I believe.

We did an interesting exercise to see where the Church Council (those of us present) stood in our spiritual beliefs. I turned out to be on the far end of the Heart (versus Mind) scale (I sense God, rather than know God), and pretty much in the middle of the Unknowable God / Revealed God scale, but closer to the Unknowable God side. That classified me as a "quiet mystic" - which I believe is right on.

I felt a true sense of belonging and community with my fellow Council members this weekend. I also think that feeling is going to go away when I go back to our church. (I had an opportunity to discuss that during the retreat.)

There is another Council member named Paul this year. Friday evening, over dinner, someone commented on the confusion caused by the two Pauls - and that both of us were at the retreat. Making a joke, I offered to change my name to Kevin, if it would make things easier. I don't know why I said "Kevin" - the name just popped into my head. The joke stuck, and for the retreat, I became Kevin.

As usual, the actual retreat business was conducted on most of Saturday, with a break for lunch. Friday, Saturday night, and Sunday was spent socializing. Suspecting that we might walk into Lopez Village at least once (usually during the Saturday lunch break), I printed out the cache pages for three geocaches hidden in Lopez Village. I picked out ones that seemed easy to find without our GPS receiver, in case Phillip wanted to do some geocaching this weekend. I didn't want to announce my intentions to the Council - I wanted to be sneaky about it. (That's part of the fun of geocaching.) I had no idea if I'd be able to sneak off to look for even one, however.

Seven of us did the Saturday lunch walk to Lopez Village. I spotted the area where one of the geocaches should be, but it didn't seem likely that I'd be able to break away from the group without attracting unwanted attention. Beyond Lopez Village, Eric wanted to turn back. I offered to go back with him. Tom and Pastor Shannon wanted to go on. Cathy voted to go back, and then Wayne and the other Paul decided to turn back, too. Tom and Pastor Shannon walked on, and the rest of us walked back. As we got to Lopez Village, I told Wayne, Paul, Eric, and Cathy that I was going to go into the grocery store to get something to drink, and that I'd meet them back at the house. Paul and Wayne offered to wait for me, but I told them there was no reason to wait. I went into the store, bought a Coke, walked over and found the geocache, and signed the log. I then wished I had told Wayne, at least, what I was up to - I think he would have been interested in it. When I got back to the house, I told Wayne that I'd logged a geocache find. He was interested (he'd heard of geocaching before), but obviously not interested enough to regret not finding it with me. Phillip did not do any geocaching while I was gone.