Africa...doesn't that word cause a little flicker of excitement? Does it conjure images of giraffes and elephants traversing a dusty, weedy sahara? Do you see little shacks and big snakes? How do you feel about traditional tribal garb?
Hmm. That's interesting. The first question is easy for me to answer...yes, thinking of Africa is terribly exciting, in a clueless, curious sort of way. I've never been and really don't know what to expect upon my arrival there next year, Lord willing. I do know that Todd and I will be living in a massive, modern (to an extent) city and are unlikely to witness much in the way of wildlife or native apparel.
I'm sure there will be plenty for me to write about after Todd and I find ourselves in our new home across the globe. Life will certainly be much different in many ways then, but it's actually much different in many ways now. I've discovered over the past 10 months that missionaries take on a "missionary" lifestyle to a degree before they ever depart for the field. Allow me to paint a verbal picture...
Last fall Todd's parents invited us to move into their (mostly finished) basement in an attempt to help us save the money we were paying in rent. We accepted. I will tell you, though, that even now when someone asks where we're living, it's kind of embarrassing to say "in my in-law's basement...but they invited us!" That last part...I make sure I point that out. It never occurred to us to ask to be moochers, but it would seem that we have no problem becoming moochers when the option is made available. :) In all seriousness, it has been an incredible blessing and we are so grateful for the generosity we've been and are being shown. This is hospitality at its finest.
So that would be the first indication that we are gearing up for the mission field...we don't have a home of our own. Within that distintive we find a subclass of others:
While we are not "living out of a suitcase," we are kind of living out of a microwave. Our lovely basement apartment did not come with a kitchen, but we do have our fridge plugged in and our microwave set up on a plastic table. When I need a stove or oven, I borrow the one upstairs. It makes for a lot of back and forth sometimes, but I just think of all the extra calories I burn going up and down the stairs to make soup. Same goes for the washer and dryer situation; we just borrow Todd's parents'.
That's the second and maybe most pervasive distinctive; we borrow. The following item in the description of missionary living might explain part of why borrowing is such an important characteristic.
Before Todd and I moved out of our rental house we went through it with a huge garbage can. We would find an object, evaluate it, and decide whether or not it was something we would take to Africa. Whatever didn't make the cut got chucked. It sounds easy and it was actually an incredibly...liberating, I suppose, experience. It felt good to be able to rid our rooms of the junk we'd been accumulating. As we conducted this purge, we would, at times, come across something that gave us pause, something we thought was valuable to us either practically or sentimentally. But when these moments of weakness arose, the one of us who could be objective (as it was not our object in question) would ask the other, "are you going to take that to Africa?"
Being faced with the knowledge that there isn't much we could take with us has helped us keep our "stuff" in perspetive. That's the third distinctive; missionaries can't hold on to stuff. Not all stuff, anyway. I expect another purge will be in order when we begin packing in a couple months. Each of us may take only two suitcases plus a carry-on, and our co-workers in Africa have suggested we bring primarily clothing. Oh, there are a few things we'll still take with us; I plan to tuck my cookbooks and a couple of treasured kitchen-ish things into my suitcase, and I will of course need my camera! These, among other small items will probably make the trek with us but for the most part, I will just have to learn to let go of stuff.
The last distinctive I'll offer is hard. The logical outcomes work their way into my conversation sometimes, but I don't know if it's really sunk in completely. It's just this: missionaries leave. And not only do they leave physically, they need to leave mentally, as well. This doesn't mean they don't regularly talk with family and friends or think of the place they grew up. But it does mean that they must make their new home home. Someone who is constantly pining for what they've left behind can't really be a part of where they are now.
It's so important that we plant ourselves in our new life, and try not to be overwhelmed with what we're missing...first steps, 4-year-old birthday parties, college graduations, engagements, births.Ok, so I've thought about it. I'm sure many exciting things will happen without me here to see them, so it will be important that I remember that obedience and faithfulness are what is required of me. I'll just have to celebrate from afar and not let the distance be a cause of depression. I know, I know...easier said than done, right? Well, I can trust that the Lord, who is my Lord, will supply all my needs, and will sustain me during the times when I get so homesick it's all I can do not to get on a plane.
I have a lot to learn. I pray He will prepare me for what He's called me to do.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Weapon of Choice
It was a rainy Monday late-morning in the fair kingdom of Overbeek when the lunch moster came creeping round my kitchen. I could have unsheathed one of my usual combat techniques: opening a can of Progresso Light series soup (an easy, tasty lunch I enjoy often), but I felt a more interactive weapon would serve me better. I decided, rather, to wield *pause for dramatic effect* the Chicken and Dumpling.
Of course, in order for this weapon to have been at my disposal at all, prior planning was required. That morning I'd secured a fine rotisserie poultry at my local edibles supplier, and was, at the moment of the attack, attempting to prep it for consumption. My fingers worked deftly, scavenging the little bird for the meat, discarding the bone and other less useful matter.
Having sufficient chicken in my possession, my next step was to compile the soup component of the dish. I wrangled open a can of Mr. Swanson's chicken broth, poured it along with some water over the meat, lightly salted and dry-onioned it, and ignited the electric stove, hoping a boil would quickly ensue.
Not one to usually fail me, the stove top did its work in a most prompt fashion, which kept the lunch monster at bay, for the time. The true test was yet to come.
As is always the case when I select this particular weapon, I saw that it was time to consult Lord Bisquick. A finer authority on the delicate art of dumpling making I doubt one could easily find. He was a tremendous aid in the speedy development of a fine batch of dumpling dough, which I dropped atop the boiling chicken soup in clumps of varying sizes. The only thing to do now was wait.
Once the dish was complete, I valiantly sparred with my recurring opponent, ultimately vanquishing it for the time...though, vast experience has taught me that it can never be completely overthrown. Even now, as I sit typing this account of tasty success, I can sense it approaching...
Here is the recipe for Chicken and Dumplings, as provided by Lady Overbeek (my mother-in-law). As you can see, the version I made was a little less involved as I used pre-cooked chicken that did not have to be removed from the liquid and cut up. Either way will work, but I like short cuts.
Of course, in order for this weapon to have been at my disposal at all, prior planning was required. That morning I'd secured a fine rotisserie poultry at my local edibles supplier, and was, at the moment of the attack, attempting to prep it for consumption. My fingers worked deftly, scavenging the little bird for the meat, discarding the bone and other less useful matter.
Having sufficient chicken in my possession, my next step was to compile the soup component of the dish. I wrangled open a can of Mr. Swanson's chicken broth, poured it along with some water over the meat, lightly salted and dry-onioned it, and ignited the electric stove, hoping a boil would quickly ensue.
Not one to usually fail me, the stove top did its work in a most prompt fashion, which kept the lunch monster at bay, for the time. The true test was yet to come.
As is always the case when I select this particular weapon, I saw that it was time to consult Lord Bisquick. A finer authority on the delicate art of dumpling making I doubt one could easily find. He was a tremendous aid in the speedy development of a fine batch of dumpling dough, which I dropped atop the boiling chicken soup in clumps of varying sizes. The only thing to do now was wait.
Once the dish was complete, I valiantly sparred with my recurring opponent, ultimately vanquishing it for the time...though, vast experience has taught me that it can never be completely overthrown. Even now, as I sit typing this account of tasty success, I can sense it approaching...
Here is the recipe for Chicken and Dumplings, as provided by Lady Overbeek (my mother-in-law). As you can see, the version I made was a little less involved as I used pre-cooked chicken that did not have to be removed from the liquid and cut up. Either way will work, but I like short cuts.
- 3 chicken breasts
- 2 cups Bisquick mix
- 5 cups chicken broth
- 2/3 cup milk
- Salt & pepper to taste
Boil chicken breasts about 20 minutes until done, remove from liquid and cut into bite size pieces. Return chicken to broth and bring to a boil. Mix together Bisquick mix and milk until soft dough forms. Drop by spoonfuls into boiling broth. Reduce heat, cook uncovered for 10 minutes. Cover and cook 10 minutes longer.
Can you see the steam rising from that bowl?! I am a huge CnD fan, and this recipe is so terribly easy. I've been on a CnD kick for a little while. It's probably what I'll whip up again today to ward off the inevitable lunch monster :)
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Hey Y'all...it's Paula time: Our Visit to the Definition of the South
Todd and I love vacation. I love vacation. I talk Todd into taking vacations.
For two years running we have returned to our honeymoon destination of Hilton Head Island, SC., and I am absolutely in love with the place. For both our first and second anniversaries we stayed in the same condo, right on the beach for (brace yourself) $50 a night! Can you say off season?! It's incredible. We really enjoy it there this time of year. It's not too crowded and not too hot, a consideration I make for Todd's sake. Poor thing can't handle the upper 80s or 90s. Actually, he'd probably prefer a year-round 71 degrees. Brr.
The highlight of this year's anniversary extravaganza took place at none other than the Lady & Sons restaurant in Savannah, GA., a mere 38 miles from our condo in HHI. Since I changed careers this spring (ahem...since I became a housewife) I have discovered Paula Deen's shows on Food Network. I'm a big fan, y'all. And when I discovered that she has an actual restaurant mere miles from where I vacation...well, I couldn't resist.
I made reservations a few weeks in advance and while I'm glad I did, I don't know that it was absolutely necessary for a Wednesday 5 o'clock dinner, but better safe than sorry. I'd never been to Savannah before and found it to be a charming old city located right on the river, but excessively cramped. It feels even more cramped, I imagine, when you find yourself stuck behind one of those nice little horse-drawn buggy rides moving at about 7 miles an hour and headed in the exact direction you want to go for blocks. Anyway. That happened.
Parking was atrocious. It seemed every time we thought we'd found a spot there was s sign telling us we couldn't park there, or that it was a private lot. We did finally manage to find a public parking garage several blocks from the restaurant and y'all...it was tight! Let's just say it's a good thing Todd and I are of modest builds or there's no way we could have slid out of our car without dinging the ones beside us. I think the way I actually put it was, "it's a good thing we're not big fat guys or this would be really difficult," (one of our favorite quotes from the 2000 Disney sensation, The Emperor's New Grove...classic). But I digress.
I spent lotsa time on my hair before we left for our date and figured I'd probably pay for my vanity. I did. Most of the curl was gone by the time we got to the restaurant, taking my pride with it. Serves me right. Before we went to the restaurant, though, we stopped off at Paula's store right next door. They ought to call it Paula Deen World or something; the place was insanely...Paula! Everywhere you looked there were aprons, t-shirts, cooking utensils, dish towels and even some kind of iron trivet, many dedicated to Paula's two famous obsessions: butter and southern dialect. I mean the trivet was soldered into "HEY Y'ALL," and there was a Christmas ornament designed as a stick of butter. I rest whatever unnecessary case I was making. Y'all know Paula. 'Nuf said.
If you're a fan of Ms. Deen, as I am, you could have spent a lot more time and money in this store...but if you have a dinner reservation, I recommend scootin' on over to the dining room. That's where the real magic happens.
Here I am right outside of the restaurant, and yes, the top part of the sign does in fact say "Hey Y'all!"
Todd and I rode the elevator up to the third floor of the restaurant and were seated by one o f the windows. The building is old and I think that adds to its charm. As soon as we were seated, we were given this:
That, y'all, is a garlic butter biscuit and pan-fried cornbread (Todd discovered maple syrup on our table and we ate that on the cornbread). We were each given one of these plates of paradise, and I'll go ahead and tell you that I polished off my own and part of Todd's. Fatty, I know. But if you've ever tasted either of these celestial carbohydrates of delicious doom, you would understand. You'd understand.
Next came the task of selecting from the menu. It isn't terribly extensive, though, so that helps. Todd settled on the buffet:
In case you can't tell, that's fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and yams. He liked it all, but my favorite part of his plate: yams. Hands down. Could they even qualify as a vegetable in the state they were in?!
I love seafood, so I chose the Savannah Style Crab Cakes:
For two years running we have returned to our honeymoon destination of Hilton Head Island, SC., and I am absolutely in love with the place. For both our first and second anniversaries we stayed in the same condo, right on the beach for (brace yourself) $50 a night! Can you say off season?! It's incredible. We really enjoy it there this time of year. It's not too crowded and not too hot, a consideration I make for Todd's sake. Poor thing can't handle the upper 80s or 90s. Actually, he'd probably prefer a year-round 71 degrees. Brr.
The highlight of this year's anniversary extravaganza took place at none other than the Lady & Sons restaurant in Savannah, GA., a mere 38 miles from our condo in HHI. Since I changed careers this spring (ahem...since I became a housewife) I have discovered Paula Deen's shows on Food Network. I'm a big fan, y'all. And when I discovered that she has an actual restaurant mere miles from where I vacation...well, I couldn't resist.
I made reservations a few weeks in advance and while I'm glad I did, I don't know that it was absolutely necessary for a Wednesday 5 o'clock dinner, but better safe than sorry. I'd never been to Savannah before and found it to be a charming old city located right on the river, but excessively cramped. It feels even more cramped, I imagine, when you find yourself stuck behind one of those nice little horse-drawn buggy rides moving at about 7 miles an hour and headed in the exact direction you want to go for blocks. Anyway. That happened.
Parking was atrocious. It seemed every time we thought we'd found a spot there was s sign telling us we couldn't park there, or that it was a private lot. We did finally manage to find a public parking garage several blocks from the restaurant and y'all...it was tight! Let's just say it's a good thing Todd and I are of modest builds or there's no way we could have slid out of our car without dinging the ones beside us. I think the way I actually put it was, "it's a good thing we're not big fat guys or this would be really difficult," (one of our favorite quotes from the 2000 Disney sensation, The Emperor's New Grove...classic). But I digress.
I spent lotsa time on my hair before we left for our date and figured I'd probably pay for my vanity. I did. Most of the curl was gone by the time we got to the restaurant, taking my pride with it. Serves me right. Before we went to the restaurant, though, we stopped off at Paula's store right next door. They ought to call it Paula Deen World or something; the place was insanely...Paula! Everywhere you looked there were aprons, t-shirts, cooking utensils, dish towels and even some kind of iron trivet, many dedicated to Paula's two famous obsessions: butter and southern dialect. I mean the trivet was soldered into "HEY Y'ALL," and there was a Christmas ornament designed as a stick of butter. I rest whatever unnecessary case I was making. Y'all know Paula. 'Nuf said.
If you're a fan of Ms. Deen, as I am, you could have spent a lot more time and money in this store...but if you have a dinner reservation, I recommend scootin' on over to the dining room. That's where the real magic happens.
Here I am right outside of the restaurant, and yes, the top part of the sign does in fact say "Hey Y'all!"
Todd and I rode the elevator up to the third floor of the restaurant and were seated by one o f the windows. The building is old and I think that adds to its charm. As soon as we were seated, we were given this:
That, y'all, is a garlic butter biscuit and pan-fried cornbread (Todd discovered maple syrup on our table and we ate that on the cornbread). We were each given one of these plates of paradise, and I'll go ahead and tell you that I polished off my own and part of Todd's. Fatty, I know. But if you've ever tasted either of these celestial carbohydrates of delicious doom, you would understand. You'd understand.
Next came the task of selecting from the menu. It isn't terribly extensive, though, so that helps. Todd settled on the buffet:
In case you can't tell, that's fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and yams. He liked it all, but my favorite part of his plate: yams. Hands down. Could they even qualify as a vegetable in the state they were in?!
I love seafood, so I chose the Savannah Style Crab Cakes:
They came with an absolute mess of beans and rice. I like beans and rice as much as the next person, but it was, truly, a ridiculous portion size. To be honest, I didn't eat much of the side so as to devote more stomach real estate to the crabs.
Again, me, post-garlic biscuit, sporting what's left of my flat iron curls:
As if we weren't stuffed to the max as it was after our entrees, the waiter mentioned that Todd's buffet came with a free dessert. His recommendation? None other than Paula's famous peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream:
Oh lands, y'all....it was just as good as it looks. Irresistible, really. I mean, Todd and ate it in gluttonous agony, so it must be irresistible.
After dinner we walked along River Street which is located, of course, on the river. We stopped at the River Street Candy Kitchen where we purchased some Oreo bark and praline pecans (for later, of course...like we could have put one more thing in our mouths at that point). Here's my handsome anniversary buddy:
Savannah also has some lovely cobblestone streets/alleys...I'm not really sure what to consider them, but they are so unique.
Our 2nd Anniversary date? Success.
'Til next time, y'all...Paula sends you love and best dishes :)
Monday, October 1, 2012
Kindred Spirits
"Marilla," she demanded presently, "do you think that I shall ever have a bosom friend in Avonlea?"
"A--a what kind of friend?"
"A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her all my life. I never really supposed I would, but so many of my loveliest dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?" -Anne of Green Gables
We have only spent parts of 10 days in each other's company, but you'd probably never know it. We keep each other up-to-date on where we are in our support raising, what we're nervous about regarding our respective moves to Africa (did I mention she'll be moving there too in January, Lord willing?!), what we're doing to prepare ourselves for for the inevitable, how far along we are in our pregnancy...ok, that one only applies to her. :)
Todd and I were able to spend an evening/morning with Abby and her husband Jonathan last week on our way to Hilton Head, SC. They live in Aiken so we made a detour to get some more actual face time with our dear friends. I am so grateful to be headed to the massive continent of Africa with a pal, you know? It's funny...back this spring she sent me a message telling me there was a possibility that they could be serving in the tiny country of Lesotho. Do you know where Lesotho is on the massive continent of Africa? Let me show you...
See?! It's right there, right there at the very bottom of the continent surrounded by South Africa. Do you know who's moving to South Africa? Me! As an interesting point of trivia, we will live closer on the massive continent of Africa than we do here in the states. It's crazy to think about...boggles my little mind.
It was so nice to get to talk in person...though, we've gotten pretty good at typing out our life's stories. Speaking of life's stories, Abby just got back from Mexico in September and brought this little nuget of gold back for me...our kindred spirit-ness also applies to our mutual love of baking:
Perhaps when I live in Africa, I can get some vanilla from Madagascar, too...
We had a great visit and I look forward to the next, be it here or half a world away :) In the words of Anne Shirley, "Oh, I'm so glad she's pretty. Next to being beautiful oneself--and that's impossible in my case--it would be best to have a beautiful bosom friend." :)
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