Our Big Sunday.

 My mind was full of visions of plates, and I couldn't think about anything else. Suddenly, a vision of Ikea came into my head, along with the thought. "I wonder if those crazy Swedes sell good plates?" I simultaneously remembered that our closest Ikea was moving into a new building that would make it THE HUGEST IKEA IN THE UNIVERSE . . . or at least in this country. So Mr. M and I planned to go after church Sunday. (Those crazy Swedes sure know their way around a meatball and ligonberries.) We met a Brazilian girl at church and invited her to lunch . . . and to go shopping for plates. She didn't know she'd be stuck with us for the entire day. We drove to Ikea, which had just opened two days earlier, and cars were lined up for several blocks just waiting to get in the parking lot. We found parking on the street and walked. We headed straight for the restaurant, which seats 600, and waited in a zig-zag line like the lines at Disneyland. We ate our food and browsed our way through the mile-long showroom. We finally came to the marketplace, where I found some Swedish plates made in Thailand. We bought the plates and limped back to the car. I had blisters on my feet. But I got plates, and we got to spend good time with our new friend from Brazil, and we ended the day at church, listening to a sermon on Ruth.