On where I write.

Today is Sunday. I walk into the Bru House and the owner, Allen, in his cheery Irish accent, asks me about church that morning. We then have a great chat about the sermon, which was on James. He then turns to everyone at the bar and tells them that everything James has to say will "really hit them in the balls." I don't know if I've mentioned this, but Allen became a Christian about six months ago, and as you can see, really has a way with words. He also loves to check up on me, with a "anything else I can get ya, little lady?" And then he'll bring me my beer and peer over my shoulder at my computer and read whatever I am working on. Let's hope that doesn't happen while I am writing about him.

I know I talk about this bar in almost every post, but I have never found an atmosphere that I have loved writing in more. My last post, "just the highlights," I wrote on a train... and all I could think of was the facts and a timeline of everything that happened. When I'm at the bar, listening to all of the talk on politics, sports and beer, I feel like I can describe things much more clearly. Usually when I am working on anything, I need headphones so I can focus, but not here.

"The Bru House" - taken at 3pm from my little table by the window.

Allen always recommends a different beer for me each time I order because he knows that I want to try as many as possible in my time here. I have yet to be disappointed!

Allen, owner of The Bru House.

In my corner by the window in the Bru House, applying for jobs. This picture, as well as the one of Allen, was taken by Bobbi Jo Brooks, one of the missionaries that I am staying with, who is also a photographer.