The first time around

My one week Seattle anniversary has now come and gone, and it is high time to share. I've settled in with Lee and Rob Murray, whose hospitality has been fabulous to say the least. Their cats (Big Doodles and Little Doodles) have also been quite welcoming. They live in the northwest part of Seattle, and the church is in the northeast section of the city, about three and a half miles away. As you may know, my transportation options are limited as the teal tornado is parked with Jamie in Nashville. Note: we haven't been separated for this long since we first got together back in June 2002. [I'm talking about the car.] Therefore, I have found four distinct methods of transportation: the Seattle metro buses, an occasional ride with church folk, bicycle transport, and that ever-popular mode, walking. Now my hostess Lee told me early on that she sometimes walks to church, and so I naively thought it wouldn't be a big deal - only three and a half miles. Only later did I find out Lee's true commitment to walking. I've been sore for days. Additionally, the bike ride to church is relatively easy, but that's because of the large hill that I go up heading back home. I still have not conquered 125th street without walking the bike. Apparently in Seattle you have to be more than just young and athletic to navigate the commuter culture: you also have to be in shape. The good news is that I'm well on my way back to the fitness level of the old days. A smattering of thoughts to share the first time around:

• Among the "green" things I've been enamored with: mandatory recycling, hybrid-electric buses, a program for youth participation in the Seattle Marathon, and bike-to-work month (which we're in the midst of).
  
• The view of the Cascade Mountains on a clear day will, I guarantee it, put Appalachia to shame.
  
• So far I've dined on salmon and scampi and (surprise!) enjoyed it. Apparently the fish in non-landlocked states really is tastier.
  
• I will never truly fit in here in the northwest because I certainly cannot afford a "The North Face" anything, and therefore I will have to stick to my trusty Missouri State windbreaker and continue to feel a little bit foreign.
  
• It turns out you don't have to be connected to a farm, or have grown up in the Midwest, or have a last name like Kauffman, Klaassen, Epp, Nuefeld, or Miller to be Mennonite. We do in fact accept converts, and lots of them. Think O'Leary, Roe, Murray, Heredia, Lim, and Wattles. Furthermore, it also turns out that some of these crazy urban Mennonites enjoy a good micro-brew and the local wine.

Cheers to all!