In the Which a Cat is Set on Fire

I promised my neighbors I would share this story, but somehow BBJ's tick upstaged it...and I forgot all about it until last night.

Let me start back at the beginning. Last Monday, we had our sweet missionaries that serve our ward over for dinner. We had a great time chatting with them and hearing about all the work they're doing here. As they drove off, I was outside checking on some of my herbs and I overheard a few of my neighbors chatting about the missionaries...and they were VERY rude, accusing them of lying and wishing them to never return to the neighborhood. (When asked why they were here, the two elders replied that they were about to go to dinner at a friend's house. Since they were early, they decided to go knock on a few doors and share the gospel with anyone who cared to listen. My neighbors did not like this response.) I was disheartened and angry, on behalf of the two young men who gave two years of their lives to serve the people in this area, without pay...and they were treated with such disrespect?! (I talked to the Elders on Sunday...turns out my neighbors were quite rude to their face, which made me feel better. I hate it when people stab you in the back!)

As I pondered the situation, I realized that I needed to MEET my neighbors, and be an emissary for everything those missionaries represent! I was one of them, a few years ago, in Hong Kong, and I loved my time serving the people. I prayed for an opportunity to meet my neighbors.

The next night I was out, again, with BBJ in the front yard. I saw one of the occupants of the cottage at the top of my driveway, out on his back patio, getting his grill ready for the night. I asked BBJ if she would like to go meet him, gathered up all my courage, and walked up the steps towards him. I almost turned around twice before he saw me, but BBJ had a firm hold on my finger and she kept pulling me forward - she was DETERMINED to meet the man with the fuzzy brown head at the grill!

I introduced myself, he introduced himself and called his wife out. Their names are Glenn and Cheryl. They seemed nice. I bid them goodnight and took BBJ home for bed. Mission accomplished.

On Thursday, my doorbell rang. It was Cheryl. She spends her days at home, crafting, and knew I was here, just playing with my baby. She came by with a few tourism magazines and a map of the area, to help me settle in. We got talking...and talking...and talking. She arrived about 10 am. I put BBJ down for her nap at 12:30 and Cheryl stayed until 2:30! Before she left, we agreed to pool our resources that night and have dinner together. She was marinating a pork loin at home to grill. I had some chicken all ready to marinate. I had half the fixings for a macaroni salad, she had all the final touches. We agreed on a time, and she went home.

Lo Gung was excited about having dinner with them (did I mention Cheryl is a professionally trained chef? yummy!!!!) and taught me a new proverb - A near neighbor is better than a far relative. Given our proximity to our families at this point, I'd have to agree!

We all settled into her cozy living room while the grill did all the work, chatting and admiring her decorating style. (I should mention, her decorating style involves a LOT of candles. They were all lit for the occasion.) She was trying something new - a row of tea candles, lining her stairs. She was confident that the worst BBJ could do would be to get wax on the carpet, so I just tried to keep her as far from the candles as possible. We were chatting about her grandkids and BBJ when Lo Gung suddenly yells, "Hey!" We all look over to see Cheryl's fluffy white and black cat calmly sitting on the stairs...with her fluffy little black and white tail sitting on top of one of the candles, looking like a big firey pom pom. We all yelled at the same moment, which caused the cat (Samantha) no small amount of embarassment. She whipped her tail around (putting it out) and streaked up the stairs. (Remember, she's fluffy...to this day, I still don't think she has any IDEA why we were all yelling at her.) The house stank, and we were all laughing. We made sure Cheryl went up and checked on her, to make sure she was all the way out. Cheryl sprayed some room freshener, and we all laughed some more. BBJ helped Cheryl blow all the candles out.

It was just so cliche, so perfect - the cat setting himself on fire in that little old cottage by the lake. We went on to enjoy a DELICIOUS meal, and all went home happy and very full.

And that is how the cat set himself on fire and we made some new friends. Cheryl insists that BBJ call her Aunt She-She. (It's what all the kids call her!) The funny thing is, BBJ can say it! After her nap, while we waited for the appointed dinner time, BBJ wandered around the house, occasionally stating, "I want She She!"