Last Days

Nothing has made the idea of moving to Africa a reality quite like getting out of our apartment.  Over the past months we have spent our lives preparing for this giant move.  With the Lord's help, we have raised thousands of dollars in monetary support.  We have filled out visa forms, gathered loads of official documents, made tons of copies, gotten vaccines, completed medicine exams.... the list goes on.  For months I have been following the weather of the town we are moving to, which by the way is still chilly and rainy during these summer months in the southern hemisphere.  But, even after doing all these things and telling nearly everyone we come in contact with that we are planning to move to Africa in January, it has seemed like a far off thing that would happen eventually.  Actually packing our suitcases, gutting our home of almost everything we can't take with us, and parting with many sentimental baby items has made this idea seem so real.

Working on my suitcase

Sorting Jonathan's keepers and goers from his throwers and givers

The start of three huge van loads to the Goodwill

My keep-no-matter-what-take-if-it'll-fit pile

I haven't loved everything about living here. Certainly, I could've done without our obnoxious neighbor and especially her constant cigarette smoke.  The apartment itself isn't anything special, and in fact we have come to realize in the past two years that it was pretty poorly constructed.  But, it has been home and it has been the first place in our married life (and my whole life really) which I got to decorate all on my own.  There were plenty of things I would've liked to have changed, namely the wallpapered bathrooms and kitchen.  However, here we hung decorations, set up a darling nursery for our son, I had a wreath on my door.... I had a real kitchen where the appliances all worked and the water ran out of the faucet in a steady stream.  Most of all, this is the home where Kyle has changed from a seven pound infant to a twenty five pound little boy.  It is hard to look around and see him all over this place and know that these memories will fade even more quickly once we're out of here.

People move and that's the way life is.  We could just as easily be moving down the street or across the country.  All the same sentiments would apply as far as the home itself goes, because obviously you can't pack memories in a suitcase and you have to rely on your mind to hold on to them.  Of course, if we were moving across the country, we would've rented a moving truck and we wouldn't have had to part with so many of our things.  But, I think what makes this move especially hard is not knowing at all what to expect on the other end.  I know we will be renting a place to live, but I don't know if it will be a round hut or a concrete house.  I know we are supposed to have access to standard kitchen appliances but I have absolutely no idea what kinds of groceries we'll be able to find in rural Africa.  Somehow I doubt I'll be making a lot of barbeque meatloaf or baked mac and cheese.  I don't know if I'll have a wreath on my door or curtains on my windows.  I just don't know what setting up "home" in Mokhotlong, Lesotho is going to look like and it makes leaving this comfortable home difficult.

I remember when I really felt my heart completely surrendering to the call of missions, I said I didn't want to be comfortable.  And I meant it.  Saying it and doing it are very different things.  While I wouldn't want to be doing anything else and I can't imagine feeling satisfied with life if Jonathan worked a normal job and we lived in a normal house, it it still very uncomfortable for me to pack up and actually go.  I am being forced to find comfort in my God, my Protector and the One in whom I find strength.  I find comfort in my husband and I am thankful that I am not going alone.  When I look at Kyle, I am comforted that I get to keep him with me, although it hurts me to be taking him from so many others who love him so deeply.

Whenever I try to imagine stepping off of a plane and planting my feet in Africa, I can barely grasp what it will feel like to think, "this is home now."  I want Africa to be our home and I truly hope to be more African than American one day.  I am thoroughly excited about tackling life there, no matter what it might throw at us, and I've even thought about what it will be like if they don't have cheesecake.  I love cheesecake.  I day dream of Kyle playing in a group of black children and I try to imagine what kind of critters he might come walking through my door holding.  After two years of watching my husband work faithfully serving chicken to people every day, I can't wait to see him doing what he loves to do, study and teach the the Bible.  Going is exciting and thrilling and I can hardly believe it's me doing it.

Leaving is so much harder than going.  I feel like a part of my heart is being crushed when I think about leaving for three years.  I have to remind myself that we aren't dying.  I just can't bear to think about my little boy being five before he comes back to visit his aunts and uncles and cousins, some he won't have even met yet.  I know people have been doing this for years, and I know people who are doing it right now.  But it is so hard to think that I am doing it.  It seems as if now that is it getting close, time is in fast forward.  Where I have been looking at everything in terms of months, I am now seeing everything in terms of days.  And they are few.  A dear friend and fellow AIM missionary wrote us this week and said, "Close well, cry well, hold your loved ones for a long time!"

I know my God will sustain me.  I know He will sustain our family and dear friends here at home.  I pray that the peace we feel knowing we are serving Him will outweigh our grief as we leave and months from now when we are homesick.  I pray He will keep us safe and healthy and that we will be able to enjoy many furloughs here with our loved ones.  And I pray He will keep me from being a blubbering mess for the next month and that I will be able to enjoy these last days rather than dread the coming of another.

Last night in the rocking chair I nursed that sweet boy in many many nights.  He loves books.

Last night in his comfy crib.  Sorry it is blurry, I was trying to be quick and not wake him up.  He still woke up, but he went back to sleep.... eventually :) Sleep tight, little buddy. Lightning and Simba are coming with, don't worry.

~Abby

Twitterpated

You may remember our friendly neighbor I posted about a few months ago.  Well, about a week after I wrote that post, she disappeared.  Earlier that week my (human) neighbor mentioned that her daughter was trying to find a home for the kitty.  I'm assuming that is what happened to our feline visitor.

Now we have a new neighbor.  Four actually!  A busy little mama bird made her nest in our next door neighbors wreath.  I must admit wreath envy.  I have a wreath on my door, too, and I took slight offense that the mama bird didn't chose my wreath to make her nest in.  But, I forgave her when I decided that my wreath wasn't as equipped with the fanning twigs ideal for building her nest.

She laid her four eggs in there just a couple weeks ago.  It has made for a great science lesson.  I had no idea that eggs hatch so quickly and I really didn't know how rapidly little, scrawny baby birds become plump and feathered big birds.  It was barely a week ago that I noticed the four skinny, fuzzy necks stretched above the edge of the nest, mouths gapping open begging for food.  Now they look as if they are not far from flight.  The wreath which supports their home is flimsy (maybe she should've picked mine but, I digress), and their weight is already making it rotate.  Late last week I tilted it back up so that the nest was nearer the top center of the wreath and would be less likely to topple over.  I've been checking on it regularly since then.  They're ugly little things, but I'd rather the nest didn't fall out of the wreath and leave me burying four dead little birds.  Plus, Kyle would be devastated.  They are his best buds at the moment.  He is constantly whining at the door to go see the "birs" and squeals like a baby (oh yeah, he is a baby) every time he sees them.  The birdies are probably terrified when they see Kyle's head pop up over their nest.  He doesn't mess with them, though.  He just looks, squeals, giggles, smiles at us and looks back into the nest.

I wonder if Mama Bird is as proud of her babies as I am of mine....

~Abby

Spring Cleaning

Last night as I was beginning to unpack, I had the hair brained idea to take the opportunity to shift my clothes from cold to warm. Truthfully, I would've been better off if I had left my summer clothes out all winter as we hardly had any cold weather, but I digress..... Admittedly I was thinking to myself I wonder if I'll ever have a closet big enough to just leave all my clothes up year round.  Then I thought, Africa is always hot so I'll only have one season of clothes anyhow.  Another thought followed, I'll probably be doing well to even have a closet.  And that fixed that little problem.

Am I the only one who has this problem?  I start cleaning and I make a bigger mess.  The concept of it must get worse before it gets better seems to aptly apply to my cleaning habits.  Because of that, and a busy one year old, I put it off until I can't possibly take it any longer and then the house seems to explode. 

The Start of the Explosion

Containers of my clothes, which haven't seen the light of day in years, came off the closet shelves and Kyle's 3-6 month clothes, which were still in his drawers waiting to be put away, were dumped on the floor.  I was out of containers and too cheap frugal to go buy more so I knew I'd have to go through mine before I could pack up his.  When I get in this mode, a rarity I assure you, I begin purging.  I am resigning to the fact that I'll never again wear the clothes I wore when I was 17.  And I'm weeding through my winter clothes with a life in Africa on my mind.  I converse with myself inwardly about any questionable items and so it goes....

Will this dress fit me even if I starve myself for three weeks? Nope.  This is a sweater made for igloo dwellers and I'm moving to Africa, it's going.... Wait, I still need some heavy clothes for if we're home in the winter on furlough; but would I really want to wear THAT sweater during my only chance to wear warm clothes? Probably not, it's really going.  Gone.  These jeans are a little snug still.... Plus, they don't wear jeans in Africa - out.  Do I really need a tank top in every color of the rainbow? No.  They're all going.  I don't need any colors.

Ready for Spring!

And thus, I was able to condense three buckets of old clothes into one and free up space to pack away Kyle's baby clothes for any little brothers he may have someday.  I also cleaned out the linen closet, coat closet, organized my closet, straightened the gift wrapping supplies and pitched a ton of junk I knew I would have to get rid of sooner or later anyhow.  It feels great!  Now I'm ready to go purchase a few potted plants and the supplies to make a wreath for my front door.

How is your spring cleaning going?

~Abby

Friendly Neighbor

All of the sudden we have a neighbor at our door.  Often.  It is our first time since living in this apartment to have any real contact with our neighbors.  When we pass the woman who lives next door, we always wave.  But, until now, we haven't had any neighbors come calling.  You know, the type who want to come in and stay awhile.

This neighbor is just as friendly and talkative as can be.  In fact, she hasn't met a stranger yet.  When my family was here the other day, she kindly greeted them as well, not showing any favoritism to her true neighbors.  She welcomes herself to breakfast, lunch or dinner.  Occasionally, I offer her some left overs, 'cause I guess her frequent visits mean she is hungry.  As soon as I open the door, she tries to sneak her way in.  Even after I close the door behind me, she keeps talking.  I can hear her persistent comments long after I have walked away.  We decided to name her CiCi, short for Cookies and Cream. If you have a more creative name, please feel free to share.  I used my most creative names on the kittens we found and "rescued" for about a week in Mexico.  We named them Sugar and Spice.  Sadly, they died, I assume from infection.

Sugar and Spice

Anyways, back to CiCi........

CiCi

I sure wish she could meet Jade, who now lives with her grandparents because she isn't allowed to live here with us.  I bet they could be friends.....eventually.  I miss having Jade around, playing at my feet or chasing tinfoil balls around the floor.  I especially miss waking up with her asleep on my head, purring loudly in my ear.  But, I think she is enjoying her new life in the great outdoors, and I am thankful I still get to see her often.  She graces us with her presence and often asks to come inside.  As soon as she makes it through the doors, she sniffs twice and wants back out.  She's a wild thing.

Mama's baby, Jade <3

It certainly is fun to have a friendly feline around again, trying to get into mischief outside my front door.  CiCi purrs softly as I begin to stroke her head and neck.  Soft, clean fur indicates that she is not actually a stray but instead, a friendly, wandering neighbor.  Her plump face and belly and think legs also give her the appearance of a well taken care of kitty.  Of course, it is possible someone recently dropped her off over here, hoping that one of us would take her in.  I cannot imagine who would want to do that to such a loving, kind kitty like her.  For now, I will assume that she lives close by and is feeling extra friendly and adventuresome during this holiday season.

Any of you out there love kitties as much as I do?

Me with the very best kitty who ever lived.   I wish I could squeeze him one more time.

~Abby

Corn Pudding and Autumn Cheer

This recipe for corn pudding comes from the Autumn cookbook by Susan Branch  which my sweet mama gave me for my birthday.  The book is as much a treat for your eyes as it is for your taste buds.   Peppered with art and stories, I have yet to tire of picking it up and nestling into my couch for a good look through.  During one of those times, I found this recipe and knew I had to give it a try.  It has a 1/4 teaspoon of cayenne pepper in it, which makes it uniquely spicy and ever so delicious!

Have you noticed this cookbook sitting on my bench of fall decorations?  I figured now is as good a time as any to show you my bit of fall decor before my home morphs into a Christmas wonderland (exaggeration) this weekend.

Kyle is rapidly expanding his ability to pull up on everything.

He loves to crawl up to this bench and yank all the decorations off.   He hasn't hurt anything yet, but I did have to move all my paraphernalia up a shelf on my bookcase.  I am trying to teach him what "no" means, but until then, I'd rather him not eat the wax out of this cute candle while I'm not watching.

(See that lone KitKat back there?  He needs to be gone before Christmas candy goes out Friday.  To ensure that he was, in fact, outa here, I choked him down after I took these photos. Y-u-m!) 

A few bunches of faux (Doesn't faux sound so much nicer than fake?) leaves spruced up my bookshelf with little effort on my part.

Sadly, the weather here hasn't been very chilly yet (80 degrees today - not cool for fall).  And if it had, I wouldn't have been home long enough to enjoy it anyhow.  So far, I've only had a couple opportunities to snuggle under this handmade quilt.  But, it can stay out after the rest of my fall decorations go into hiding because it is just that special to me.

My kitchen table boasts a cornucopia and these turkey and acorn salt and pepper shakers I found on sale.  Hanging from a knob beside my sink is the sweetly scented, clove covered, cinnamon dunked apple which my precious sisters made as a school project, exploding with festivity as I do the dishes.

Now that we've toured my house, let's get back to cooking.  Isn't that what we came here for in the first place?  Yes.  So, the recipe.  It's simple.  It's sweet.  It's scrumptious.  It's spicy.  It's just what you need to get you in the holiday spirit.

First, heat your oven, grease your prettiest pan and set it aside.  Then, mix the corn, butter, cornbread mix, sour cream, egg and cayenne in a festive bowl and pour into your casserole dish.  Sprinkle the top with paprika to make it perk up a bit and pop it in the oven.  Wait an hour, open the oven and sniff; then take it out and serve it.  Easy as that!

Corn Pudding

One 14oz can corn, drained

One 14 oz can creamed corn

One cup sour cream

One egg, beaten

One box Jiffy cornbread mix

One stick of butter, melted

One forth teaspoon cayenne pepper

Paprika

Preheat oven to 350*.  Combine first seven ingredients in a bowl.  Pour into a greased 9X9 baking dish and sprinkle with paprika.  Bake for one hour or until middle is set and edges are golden brown.  Serve with warmed maple syrup, if desired.  

In my house, there's almost always enough for leftovers.  Perfect, that means I get to sit back and relax tomorrow evening!

Sadly, I didn't photograph as I made this delicious dish.  Not that it matters much, we all know what a yellowish corn goop looks like in a bowl.  The real curiosity comes out as you wonder what it looks like on a plate, drizzled with syrup, ready to consumed in a matter of minutes over a cheery conversation with an eight month old.

Don't forget to enter to win these cozy coasters - the drawing is on Thursday! Simply leave me a comment with your favorite Christmas carol and maybe, just maybe, you'll win!  I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving full of family, fun and feasting!

~Abby

Dinner at Home

I am my mother's daughter;  I love to cook.  There isn't a part of cooking I don't like, except maybe cleaning the burners if something spills over.  As we finish putting the final touches on our new semi-temporary quarters, I figured I'd share a few photos from our first dinner on our new (borrowed) kitchen table.

All set and ready.  We are so grateful to our generous friends for loaning us their table while we are here.  Eating from a table sure beats eating on the floor.

One serving of fresh broccoli steaming, naturally, since I'm the only one of the two of us who will touch the stuff.  I just can't convince Jono that it really IS yummy!  

Four servings of smashed potatoes cooking in another pot.  No, that's not two for J, one for Mom, one for Kyle.  It's one for Mom and Kyle and the rest for J. 

Chicken Cordon Bleu in the pretty green baking dish my Grandmama gave me for Christmas.  Before you get too impressed, I must admit to buying the chicken ready-made.  My favorite grocery (Aldi) sells these little packages of yumminess for 99 cents a piece.  Can't beat that.

As usual, I have lots of help in the kitchen.  And eating my food.

Can you guess who's plate this is?

After cooking for 9 months in Mexico using a toaster oven, two electric burners, a microwave, and about 3.5 feet of counter work space, I feel like my tiny apartment kitchen competes with Paula Dean's. Basically, I'm in housewife heaven with four burners, a full size oven and enough space to cut potatoes without knocking half of them on the floor.   

We demolished this meal. 

~Abby