A (Not So Big) Move

A year ago, we were just getting ourselves settled into life here in Spain.  I shared some about our quest to find housing before we arrived and the difficulty we encountered trying to find a place to rent.  Eventually, we were able to sign the lease and get into a home.  

Ellee watching the sunset from the side yard.

We liked the house.  We have enjoyed the space to spread out, host friends and family from afar as well as many dinner parties.  The location was fantastic given our strict lockdown for nearly 3 months.  We had space to get outdoors despite the restrictions.  Really the only draw back was the cost of the rent and the fact that the landlord (with whom we had no contact) and the rental agent who was our liaison were not fixing anything that went wrong.  An initial selling point was the solar water heater which we thought would save us money.  We didn't have any other choice, really, because we were desperate for a place to live.  Nevertheless, as it turns out, the solar water heater had never even been plugged in or programed and no one ever came out to do so.  Upon our arrival, our neighbor informed us that the previous tenants in our house had tried to use the fire place and the entire upstairs filled with smoke.  He strongly encouraged us to not try it, and to see about getting it repaired.  We never used it and it was never repaired.  Despite regular requests, the air conditioning which blew out hot air was never fixed.  There was an open space in the wall above our bed which was home to a noisy birds nest, along with some electrical issues and a leak in the roof… we weren’t getting anywhere.  I wanted to stay for the area and the space, but it was frustrating to pay monthly and get no service in return.

At Christmastime, we met the owners of the other side of our duplex.  They came to Jerez for a visit and repairs after their tenants had vacated their property.  They have a son not much older than Kyle, and they stayed for a few weeks.  Kyle thoroughly enjoyed having a friend around!  And to add to the thrill, they spoke English…. Real English like they speak in England because they live there.  I mentioned to the owner our desire to stay in the area and our hopes to talk the landlord down a bit on the rent, since we had discovered we were paying more than our neighbors.  

About eight weeks ago, as I was communicating with the owners of the other side, she mentioned their desire to re-rent their property.  She offered us first priority if we wanted to swap houses when our lease ran out.  Initially I thought it might just work in our favor as leverage with our current landlord.  I hoped we could tell him we had an offer at much lower rent and see if he would match it and let us stay.  Unlikely, but one can hope.  I didn’t really want to hassle with moving.  However, it quickly became apparent that the best choice was to just make the switch.  We couldn’t beat the reduction in rent, along with the fact that we personally knew the landlords next door and their desire to maintain their property - all things that couldn’t be said for the people with which we were currently working. 

I laid in bed thinking about all the stuff that needed moving.  I have moved a lot of times, and I knew this would be easy in comparison to squeezing our lives into 50 lb suitcases.  But to have to touch every item in the house again…. I wasn’t excited.  And all the stairs!  The houses are tall and narrow, with three stair cases each.  Then it occurred to me.  We could pass our things across the balconies!

If this doesn’t scream hillbillies, I don’t know what does.  But it worked!  We moved the basements by going out the basement door of one side and in the doors of the other.  We moved the first floor by carrying all our things out the back doors, out the garden, in the garden and through the back doors on the other side.  Then, we secured a ladder across the balcony of our bedroom floor and passed everything from laundry baskets full of bathroom essentials to bed frames and mattresses across.  The most nerve-wracking of all was watching the guys from church pass my hammock across the roof top balcony, with one young guy scooting across along with it to guide it over the shingles.  I am glad I don’t have a picture of that moment because it made me feel sick.  The kid and the hammock and I all survived. 

It was no small effort and it took me about a week to move it all.  I say “me” because Jono helped as he was able, but unfortunately he was taken out by some kind of brutal food poisoning the whole week of moving.  Maybe he planned it that way, just to see how much I could really carry on my own since I’m always asking him to lift the heavy stuff.  A group of guys came from the church to help move the bulky furniture.  Naturally, we had to move the hottest week of the year thus far.  

I dropped probably 5 lbs.

So we’ve come to the other side.  It’s identical, only a mirror image.  Still trying to get my brain to work backwards.  That's the only thing I have to get working.  The air works.  The garden is nicer, with a big beautiful tree perfect for a tire swing.  There are a few fancy upgrades in the kitchen and laundry room.  There are screens in the windows so we can leave them open without getting eaten by mosquitoes.  The solar water heater is functioning.  The house has WiFi included.  We have been reliably informed that the fireplace works.  To my knowledge, there are no birds’ nests in the walls.  And we are paying less.  It’s a win-win-win-win-win!

Gotta figure out how to run the sprinkler system.  You guessed it; it didn't work on the other side.

I love my coffee station!  These lights are going to be so pretty in the fall/winter evenings.

Possibly my favorite part! A spice drawer!

~Abby

Neighbors

I really hate to complain, but I’m so fed up I have to tell someone.  For months, we’ve lived in relative peace with our neighbors.  We only share walls with one other house, so what was the likelihood that the folks on the other side will be unbearable and we would be unable to settle our differences?  They have been occupying the other side of our walls the entire time we’ve lived here.  Obviously, they were here first.  For a long time, the noise was bearable.  Sure, there was some occasional bumping and banging and a bit of arguing here or there.  Nothing we couldn’t live with….

Morning mist

...Until recently.  After welcoming triplets into their family, the otherwise quiet couple is now dealing with a frenzy of activity.  I can, of course, sympathize with the mother and father and pity them as they are up half the night with their wailing offspring.  Having one at a time was hard enough on my sanity, I can’t imagine having three.  But the fussing…. The arguing over who’s turn it is to get up with the crying baby… the bumping and banging in the middle of the night.  What might have at one time been common arguments over petty things, now sounds like downright domestic disputes.  I’ve considered calling the cops.  They bump and bang so much, I’m afraid sometimes they’ll fall in through the walls.  I can’t imagine what all they are doing to cause so much ruckus.  We have had some quiet hours, thankfully, but the late nights and early mornings are the worst.  The babies are loud, the parents are arguing and I finally had to contact the landlord. I don’t know what he can do, really, but I have had enough.  I can’t cope with being woken up repeatedly.  It’s causing us all to lie awake and ponder how to politely recommend some sleep-training and tough love to the exhausted parents.  I don’t know exactly how long it’s been since they welcomed their babies, but surely it’s time for some sleep. 

What with the virus and the strict lock-down we’ve experienced here, I imagine they are overwhelmed with caring for their children alone.  Tensions are obviously running high and I feel for them.  Families aren’t allowed to mingle and I imagine no meal-train was set up for them amidst their return home after the birth.  Judging by the sounds of it, they’re up managing meals all hours of the day and night.  Clearly they are overwhelmed with their own situation and have little concern for our peace and rest.  I would like to offer to bring them a meal, but we don’t speak a common language and I have no idea what they would enjoy.  Plus, we still aren’t supposed to socialize and I wouldn’t want to put them on the spot to refuse my offer.   Often when things are apparently going smoothly and all the babies are content, the parents sing at the top of their lungs and leave us with little peace.  I’ve tried politely tapping on the walls, which has rendered no response.

I haven’t even heard back from the landlord; clearly he is at as much of a loss as we are.  Day and night I consider that in time, these days will pass and hopefully a bit more peace will come to our neighbors.  But for now, I’m quite ready to find a way to evict them and wish them well on their way.

In the meantime, I suppose we will continue in our cohabitation with our feathery foes and hope when their babies fly the nest in our bedroom wall, we can all get some much needed rest!

~Abby

Stitching the Seasons

Today I finally completed a project I've had on the back burner for over three years.   When returning for our second term in Mokhotlong, I brought along fabric blocks and lots of embroidery thread to hand-stitch an embroidered calendar.  Using a real calendar, my sister sketched the intricate photos for me to copy.  To transfer the photos to fabric, I would tape the sketch to the window and tape the fabric block on top of it.  Then using a fading pen, I would trace the picture onto the block before I started the stitching.  Truthfully, I grossly underestimated the amount of time it would take to stitch 12 extensively detailed blocks.  It didn't take me long to realize I might've bitten off more than I could chew.

I started the first blocks toward the end of 2016.  Shortly thereafter began my increasing battle with headaches for the following two years.  Because I felt worst when sitting still, I ditched the stitching and took up jogging instead.  Finally, after my headaches were under control (thanks, keto!) and we had made our big move to Spain, I determined to finish the project I'd started!  Each block was obviously very detailed and time consuming.  I arrived to Spain with three completed blocks and one barely begun.  Since November, I've finished the last nine!  Nestled under a blanket by the window, sunning on the balcony in a chair, drinking my coffee, listening to podcasts, waiting for dinner to cook, little by little I have whittled away at each scene.  

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

My plan is to make this into a wall-hanging with sashing between each block.  It's on my project list for the next time my mom comes to visit or I get to visit her.  I'm too scared to attempt it alone, for fear of ruining my hard work!  But today, I'm relishing the fact that the blocks are finished and I can get busy making something else.

Do you have a favorite?

~Abby

Pollyanna

While on a girls' trip to visit my sister in Florida during the fall of 2018, Sadie was gifted a Pollyanna doll at an antique store.  Dressed in a gingham frock, the doll immediately attracted Sadie’s attention.  She quickly sat down in a little red rocking chair and tenderly began cradling Pollyanna.  During the time that we were in the store, Sadie repeatedly requested that I buy her the doll, which I continually declined.  We were preparing for a big move, and I wasn’t in the market to add to our load of things to pack.  So Sadie sat and rocked the doll while we browsed the store.

Stealin' hearts (and dolls) since 2015

Unbeknownst to me, the owner of this antique booth was right there watching the entire time.  She was rearranging shelves and moving things around.  I particularly liked her country styled area and admired many of the pretty things she had about.  She began urging me to buy the doll by reducing the price she had listed, but I explained my packing predicament and tried to drop it.  She went on to tell me how special the doll was to her, because her aunt had given it to her as a Christmas gift back in 1960.  Pollyanna had been this lady’s childhood doll and she still had the book her aunt gifted her along with the doll.  She offered to give Sadie the doll saying she just wanted her doll to be loved as well as she had loved her when she was a little girl.  I again tried to explain that I just didn’t have the space to take more things and I wouldn’t be able to pack it for the move.  The lady told me to sell it on eBay before moving, just so Sadie could enjoy her while she was stateside.  When I realized I wasn’t getting out of that store without the doll, I accepted and Sadie left happily with a new doll and doll quilt, book, and another book and tote bag the generous lady threw in at the last minute.

Sadie dressed in her favorite winter outfit, Pollyanna dressed in Sadie's favorite doll outfit.... Both with their shoes on backwards which is only fitting.  SK puts her shoes on backwards about 80% of the time.....

Being the heartless mother that I am, I have to admit that during my final days of packing last summer, I intentionally left Pollyanna behind at my parents’ house where my mom has other repurposed antique dolls.  Packing all the essentials of life for a family of 6 into suitcases leaves little room for sentiment.  I heard a lot about that misstep from Sadie between when we moved and when my mom came to visit in September.  Needless to say, Pollyanna was added to the list of “musts” when Lollee came to visit.  Sadie was very happy to see Lollee, but possibly even more excited to see Pollyanna.

For over a year, Sadie has loved and played with Pollyanna.  A few days ago, she announced that Pollyanna had a birthday coming up.  So, today we partied with cookie cake and presents and celebrated Pollyanna’s "3rd" birthday.  Sadie isn’t aware that Pollyanna is actually a 60 year old doll who could be her grandmother and for the sake of fewer questions, I will leave it that way for now.  I reached out to the antique store to try to contact the vender who gave Sadie her childhood doll.  I wanted her to know that Sadie has loved, cared for and taken Pollyanna out for walks and trips since she received her.  The lady responded with a photo she had saved of Sadie Kate with Pollyanna in the store.  When she also added that she thinks of us and prays for us often, knowing that we serve overseas, I got tears in my eyes.  What a thoughtful, generous lady!  Pollyanna has a new hair-do, thanks to a three-year-old Sadie and scissors combo a few months back, but she is still as loved as any doll could be.  It warms my heart to think of the generosity of that lady and her confidence in Sadie to love Pollyanna in the years to come! 

The photo I received today from the original owner.

~Abby

Tea, Tacos, and a Turtle

I am sitting in front of an oscillating fan, sipping chai spiced rooibos tea which is meant to make it feel more fall than the 90 degree afternoon we’re enduring enjoying.  It’s October and I’m too stubborn to turn on the air; besides it doesn’t really work anyway.  Rooibos tea, which is grown in South Africa, transports me right back to Lesotho days.  I didn’t love it when I first tried it, but over time it grew on me; when I discovered the chai spiced version, I was sold.  Since it is naturally decaffeinated, it’s a great option for a late afternoon slow-sip.  Dinner is prepped and ready to go in the oven.  I usually do some variation of Taco-Tuesday, but this week it got postponed to Wednesday.  Keto-taco-casserole (known around here as ke-taco) it is, and it’s so good!  I loosely use this recipe.

Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, preparing all sorts of goodies.  I have many eager helpers, which doesn’t make things go very quickly.  Just when I was about ready to finish up and have a seat, Ellee reminded me I had promised we would make something from this alphabet cookbook this week.  So she, Sadie and I whipped up this Turtle Bread to accompany dinner. It was quick and easy and great for little helping hands.  I even managed to get out of kneading!

The finished product was well received by little turtles and Daddy turtle alike.

I also decided to use some super ripe bananas to make up a sort of low-carb banana bread.  Oxymoron, I know, but where the kids are concerned it's only an effort for healthier eating.  So I did my usual 3 mashed bananas, 2 eggs, stick of soft butter, drizzle of vanilla.  Then I added about 1/2 cup of coconut flour and a shake of baking powder and a shake of baking soda.  The technical details to recipes are negotiable in my book. It had to bake a good long while to set up - probably an hour or more - but once it did, it was very tasty.  The addition of a couple dark chocolate chips was not objected by any of the members of my household.

Hope you are having a great week!

~Abby

A New Roof

Somewhere in the midst of four children, a couple big moves, homeschooling, and the array of other duties which follow me wherever I go, my almost-forgotten blog was pushed aside.  I have kept up (and not kept up) with this blog for nine and a half years.  I often don’t even remember it exists, but when I do, I enjoy looking back through the virtual scrapbook of my unusual life. 

I am seated on the floor of our roof top patio, listening to happy birds chirp.  The breeze is refreshingly cool after months of exhausting heat.  It may not feel as fall as I would like it, but the respite from unbearable heat is welcome.  And the cool dips at night make my morning coffee with a sprinkle of ground pumpkin spice all that much more enjoyable.  A coconut-lime keto cheesecake is cooling on the counter.  Homemade keto chocolate ice cream is also freezing in the freezer.  A roast is in the crock pot and I am excited to see how the sweet potatoes I finally found here turn out this evening when I bake them.  We didn’t have lunch until nearly 3, which is so Spanish of us.  You see, we really are adjusting.  Dinner will be on the table by 8.  School has been accomplished, Kyle in 3rd and Ellee in 1st, and Rosie has napped on and off all day.  Teething has disrupted our days and nights for over a week now.  Jonathan has been in and out - out at the store helping with refugee grocery shopping, in working on class preparations for English class tomorrow, back out here shortly to help with an immigrant food distribution and then on to his African migrant soccer team’s practice this evening.  If it sounds like he should be tired, that’s because he is.

Moving to Spain has been quite a smooth transition, as far as transitions go.  Buying a car, securing a rental home, filling it with furniture and getting it set up during our first week here wasn’t exactly the least stressful thing I’ve ever done.  We checked out of a guesthouse on Saturday morning, July 13th, and went and dropped a few thousand dollars at IKEA that afternoon buying beds, couches, a table, a pot and pan, silverware, pillows and sheets and everything else you might imagine needs putting into a house if a family plans to live there starting that evening.  Now the house, which at first didn’t attract my love and affection but was all that was available, feels like home.  I enjoy the quiet setting, the very low traffic along our street, and access to the pool and neighborhood garden for outdoor time. Since Jonathan is away a lot with the car, I am pretty well situated here at the house with the kids all-the-time, so it at least feels like we’ve gotten out when we go up to the swings for a picnic.  We’ve managed to work out a few kinks with the place, except the A/C that couldn’t handle the heat.  Fortunately, it seem the worst is behind us now, so I’ll wait for Spring to bug the maintenance guy again about that. My favorite thing about the place is probably the stunning view.  And the dishwasher.

Spanish has come flooding back, although thankfully we never lost it completely.  We’ve been using it for years as a secret language when we want to hide something from the kids or to speak privately in Lesotho or South Africa.  Unfortunately, now we are encouraging our children to learn our secret language.  Kyle works daily on DuoLingo and Ellee listens intently.  Sadie is picking up bits and pieces along the way.  I have made it my personal goal to be absolutely fluent someday, but that day is far in the future, I am sure.  Nevertheless, being able to get around and make my point or ask my question in the language is not a luxury I enjoyed in Lesotho.  And English is not widely spoken here, so it is pretty well a necessity.

The baby is now awake after another barely-nap, so I am off to see how my ice cream is coming along (read: have a bowl regardless of if it is frozen yet or not).  Then maybe I’ll try to pointlessly sweep the house or fail miserably at attempting to read my awesome book about a missionary family in Peru during the 1960’s.  Although more than likely, that will have to wait until the kids are all tucked into bed and I am left with silence until Rose wakes back up.  This is a life I love and appreciate, even in the frustrating and mundane.  I wouldn’t trade it for all the cleanliness, structure, or silence in the world…. But at times that does sound appealing. 

~Abby

Opportunity and Success

There is a young girl who visits me occasionally.  I first met her at the river one day while I was chatting on the phone and she was doing laundry.  She comes to me for English vocabulary help.  She’s fluent in English, but wants to broaden her vocabulary base.  She wants to be a poet or an actress.  She brings me things she’s read, elaborate poetry or Bible texts, so I can help explain the difficult words to her. Finding synonyms for difficult words which aren’t also difficult is difficult.  This afternoon, she walked into my kitchen.  I was expecting someone else so it surprised me to see her standing there.  She came to tell me she had failed 10th grade math and wouldn’t be able to continue her studies.  She wanted to know if I knew anyone she could work for or what she could do.  She was afraid to go home because her grandfather was coming to beat her.  That is the only punishment here.  It’s harsh.  High school isn’t free, so if a pupil struggles, it is seen as a waste of money.  I felt so deflated when she said she wouldn’t be continuing her school.  There isn’t much opportunity for young people here, but without a high school education, there is even less.  I took her to my neighbor who is a teacher at a different school.  She suggested she discuss with her teachers and see if she could do tutoring to make up her 10th grade math and then continue on with her schooling next year.

It made me think.  I grew up in a society where children are asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  Everything is a possibility.  Opportunity is available.  Success is achievable.  You want to be a brain surgeon?  Go for it!  Study hard and apply yourself.  You want to be an actress?  Get involved in a local playhouse and chase your dreams.  You want to be an electrician?  There is no shortage of opportunity or job availability!  Your profession will always be useful.  Learn at a college or study under a skilled electrician.  That isn’t the way it is here, or in most places in the world.  I grew up believing I could be whatever I wanted to be.  I still believe that!  Someday, when I’m old and I’ve raised my kids and have more free time, I’d like to open a small cafe.  There isn’t a thing in me that makes me believe I couldn’t do it!  But here, when I hear, “I want to be an actress” or “I want to be a pilot”, I think, “There is no way.” I’m not trying to be pessimistic!  I want to be optimistic!  I want to believe that the opportunity is there.  But I know better.  The funding isn't there for schooling.  The jobs aren’t there to be filled.  There is only an up hill climb for anyone in Lesotho who wants to be something out of the ordinary.  So I encourage her, study hard.  Try to go to university in South Africa.  Try to build your credentials and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a break.  But in my heart, I feel the truth.  It’s so unlikely, it’s nearly impossible.  I pray she can finish high school and I pray, with God’s grace and lots of determination, she will have the future she dreams of having.  And I pray her parents and grandparents are easy on her, because she’s obviously a brilliant student who probably just spends too much time on English and not enough time on math.

In other Mokhotlong news…..

I found sweet potatoes in South Africa a couple weeks ago.  It’s a rare find.  I’ve only ever found them once before.  I snatched two bags and have been dreaming of what all I wanted to do with them.  I found this recipe for chocolate sweet potato cake in one of my go-to Taste of Home cookbooks and decided to give it a try.  I followed the recipe with a few simple adjustments.  Firstly, 2 cups of sugar is ridiculous.  I cut it in half and judging by the batter, it’s plenty sweet!  Recipes almost always call for way more sugar than necessary.  Then, 2 cups of pecans.  Seriously?  Have you priced pecans lately?  No.  No way.  I don’t use 2 cups of pecans in a month and I’m certainly not dumping that many in a cake.  I buy pecans fresh from the health food store in South Africa at the cheapest price around and they are still painfully expensive.  So, I just grabbed a handful of those cherished nuts and chopped them up well before tossing them in.  Then to add some more texture and yum due to the lack of pecans, I added a handful of chocolate chips.  Obviously.  I will split it up and take it to my neighbors for safe keeping, since I can’t be held accountable for what would happen to this chocolate sweet potato cake should it all remain in my home.

Dinner tonight is ribs, which come from my favorite butchery.  I’ve become such a butchery snob.  They are cheaper than the grocery stores here, and the meat is so fresh and customizable.  I always get just what I want.  I’m using some of the barbecue sauce my mom brought because I have enough to take a bath in, and because it’s amazing and tastes like home. Thanks, Selena!  I rubbed the ribs with Fat Jake's, a spice blend a friend makes.  It's so good!  I’m making these potatoes because cream cheese improves everything and fresh carrots because we bought them along the road-side this week and they are beautiful.  I know ya’ll think we are really suffering up here, eating unidentifiable food and never having a treat.  Sorry not sorry for shattering the image of poor, unfortunate, sacrificing missionaries.  It’s not such a bad existence, I promise.  You should try it!

Off I go to wake Sadie from her nap because she’s sleeping too long and I want to sleep tonight.  Hope you all have your Christmas decorations down.  I believe today is the deadline.  Mine are all down, it took me about 5 minutes.  

~Abby