The Sad Closet

We are down to:

1 day of work at the office (for Todd)
2 suitcases left to pack
3 Sundays at our home church...

I would go on, but my clever play on numeric succession ends abruptly at 3 :) But trust me, the progress we've made today alone has been significant, I think. Our dressers are just about empty, and the closet looks really, really sad (which is a good thing). We've tried to whittle our wardrobes down to only a few outfits, counting on frequent trips to the washing machine. It felt nice to condense. I have bags of stuff to throw away and bags of stuff to pass along.

My super organized husband has spreadsheets on the computer outlining our suitcases and their contents. His idea, not mine. I'll be thankful later when I wonder what on earth we have buried down there. It gets a little complicated when you take into account our side-trip to Germany. We have a conference to attend there prior to heading out to South Africa, and the climates will be worlds (or at least a hemisphere) apart. Tonight, the catchphrase as we packed was things "we absolutely will not need in Germany."

So far we've run into a minor issue with our packing: it would seem that our luggage suffers from obesity. The airline weight limit is 50lbs and both of our packed bags exceed that...one by a little, one by a lot. If we were only embarking on a short excursion, the sticklers in us would be weeding out the expendables, but we're willing to pay the overage for a two-year term.


The mental countdown to takeoff is a bit...involuntary. I feel a little panicky sometimes when I think about how soon "it" will happen. Can I really only have a little (and I do mean a little) over two weeks here? It gets more real with every preparation we make.

I wonder...will the remaining days fly by, or drag?

It won't be long before I know :)

31 Days

I'm big into countdowns; have I told you that before? I am. Sometimes, I can't even help myself, I can't not know how many days I have left before _________ happens. Picking up my life and moving it to Africa is not an exception....obviously.

Today marks our one month remainder here in the states. We purchased tickets not too long ago and are set to depart for our conference in Germany on January 14th, my mother-in-law's birthday. No, we aren't doing that to her on purpose. Yes, we do have souls. But the conference begins on the 15th, leaving us with no choice. She's great, though. She's not taking it personally (on a side note, I feel really sorry for people who have lousy or non-existent relationships with their in-laws. You're missing out).

Speaking of this conference...I don't have a clue what it's all about. Not one clue. I do know that missionaries from all over the world will meet here and that our entire missionary "generation" will be sent out afterwards. That's kind of cool, right? I'll tell you that the next few months could be the reason we're going into missions. I am a details details details person, and I'm lacking in that department. No agendas, no highly informative emails or phone calls, no interactive FAQ forums I can participate in and scrounge up every ounce of "what-to-expect." Oh dear, folks. Meredith is in way over her head and she hasn't even left her corner of Tennessee.

Maybe I'm supposed to learn extreme flexibility. Actually, any flexibility would be extreme for me. Agendas, itineraries, packets, down-to-the-minute schedules, that's how I roll. Or rolled, I should say. The Holy Spirit may be about to perform some kind of -ectomy on my knowledge-dependent  self.

I'm trying to look at the bright side. Not knowing every detail of the day would probably keep me from being stressed out if something didn't go according to schedule, right? It would also keep my expectations (sometimes set unrealistically high) at bay, I suppose. It might even keep me focused on what was happening at the moment, rather than inspire my imaginative mind to wander to future events.  That one's a stretch, I grant you :)

The next few months will probably be a very focused exercise on trusting God, but most of life is that way. I think sometimes how unlikely a candidate I am for all this. If God had asked who I thought would be a better fit, I could have made some recommendations. Everything in me and about me screams "unqualified," or at the very least "poor choice," and I'm not just being modest. But regardless of how ill-equipped I feel I am, I can't deny what Peter tells us about ourselves (as Christians) in 2 Peter:

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness, through our knowledge of him  who has called us by his own glory and goodness" (1:3). 

God said it, so it's true. Even when it doesn't feel like it could possibly apply to me, I'm told that it does. 

Ok, enough of being thoughtful; I'd rather not end on a contemplative note. SO, on a completely unrelated topic, let me brag a bit on my fabulous husband who is now 23 years old (my baby's growing up...I can remember when he was 9!). Our birthdays are only two days (...ok, and a year...whatever) appart, and this year he bought me this beautiful, vintage, completely mechanical (a.k.a., no batteries) Ciro 35, 50mm camera! I practically begged him for a film camera, and he found this one with its leather case for a really great price (dare I say, almost cheap?) on eBay. 

I was thrilled :) 

I talked him into taking some pictures of me and the camera and he took the one of the two of us. Isn't he great? 

The leather case is so cool...you can shoot without taking the camera out. I think it also adds to the overall vintage feel :) 

This particular camera was only made for a period of approximately 7 years, I think, just before and after 1950. It's safe to say that it's about 60 years old. 

Focusing this beast is not easy...see that tiny slit beside the viewfinder? In order to focus the image, you look through that slit which is divided horizontally in the middle. You line up the top and bottom halves of the image by adjusting the lever below the slit. We'll see if I'm any good when we get the film developed.

Nothing like a little posed drama :) 

We wish you a very blessed and Merry Christmas :) 

Portraits of Fall

Overbeek Photography enjoyed a busy couple of weeks this October (even trickling into November), and what a fantastic range of photos we have seen! Famous east Tennessee fall color, a fountain, various instruments, horses, babies, and one very photogenic schnauzer.

To give you a feel for the variety of sessions we had the opportunity of shooting, I've selected a variety of portraits.

Enjoy!

Bri was laid back and tons of fun for her senior pictures. 

This litte man was super cute! I think both I and his mother were so proud of his big smiles that night! 

Erika was lovely, and what a beautiful evening we had for pictures!

This tiny diva kept me on my toes! I loved little Ava's curls...

The Palmeters and I go way back. This is one of the "cheesy interaction" photos I encouraged :) 

I had a great time with the Williams in this beautiful golden forest! And they threw in a concert ;) Ok, that part's a joke, but I did get to hear some samples. 

Aww...the Miller's with the brand new baby Caleb! 'Nuff said. 

Kristi--one usually found on the other side of the camera herself--could bring out the laughing face on command! Of course, my goofy sister may have helped just a little...

Pictures aren't Laura's favorite pastime, by her own admission, but music...that might be another story ;)    Isn't it great how she can make it look like she's completely forgotten I'm there?!

Oh, Ellianna...I'm partial to your breathtaking beauty, but it's allowed; you're my only niece. I'm also super in love with your mommy's creativity and hair bow-making skills! 

Kylee and I had never met, but don't be deceived by this picture...she wasn't all that bashful! ;) 

Here is another young lady I'd never met before our shoot...Anna Katherine, this is so model! 

Carley brought her horses along for part of this shoot and gave me some experience I'd probably never have otherwise! Thanks for that, Carley!

All in all, I'd say Overbeek Photography had a pleasant fall season :) 

Signs

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.

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.

• 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 :) 

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:

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 :)  

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

Last year I had the pleasure of meeting my kindred spirit, Abby, at our missions conference with Operation Mobilization (OM). We didn't know of our KS status at that time, but a lovely email correspondence relationship blossomed from there, bringing us to the place we now find ourselves :) It's nice to find someone who understands exactly where you are. In other words, it's good to have a friend who is about to undergo the same life change as you.

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." :) 

My name is Meredith and I am an Amish Tracker

There. It's out and the world can go ahead and just know that yes, I am a professional Amish Tracker. I've read both fiction and non-fiction on the Amish, have made several trips to regions where they live, and have interacted with them on the business level many, many times. In short, I'm pro.

This summer mom and I visited my aunt and uncle in Pennsylvania, where they live minutes from pockets of Amish communities. It's a dream come true.We drive around for hours, looking for places where we can observe them in their natural habitats and buy fried pies from their bake stands. (I've mentioned my affinity for fried pies in the past. If you haven't had one, get one). We watch them ploughing in their fields, sitting on their front porch, and driving along in their buggies. It's essential to to take turns and hills slowly in areas with a large Amish population...there could always be a buggy just out of sight.

In order to know if a particular street has Amish inhabitants, we trackers look for "Amish exhaust" in the road, i.e., horse manure. :) If no maure is in sight, there likely isn't anything of interest to see. We pros know that and look instead for greener pastures (or dirtier roads).

I simply love seeing Amish kids running around! They're so cute! I think I've decided the biggest reason behind this is because they are dressed like miniature adults. Plain dresses and hats for girls, plain pants and shirts for the boys. I love driving up to their homes and buying blueberries and cucumbers straight from their gardens. The yards are usually immaculate, leading me to believe that the rest of the home is probably also kept in perfect order.

As most people know, the Amish don't like to have their picture taken...they think it's some kind of graven image. Therefore, one must be covert :) I just couldn't resist snapping this one:

SO cute! I told you they look like miniature adults :) 

Here are some other common sights in Amish-land. If you haven't seen this quiet, hardworking set of people in action, I recommend a visit to Holmes County, Ohio. I've been twice...it's paradise for the seasoned Amish Tracker, like myself. :) 

Does your kid plough? Their's does. 

I just love this :) 

One of those immaculate houses I was telling you about...see what I mean? Everything in perfect order. Incidentally, I bought blueberries here. Yes, they were delicious and many of them are still gracing my freezer. 

Buggy without the top. It could take you back a a few centuries...were it not for the reflectors. 

Wyatt goes to the movies

For several months now I've been hearing of Finding Nemo's return to theaters, this time in 3D. I am a huge fan of Pixar...I am not a fan of 3D. But somehow the thought of taking the cutest three-year-old I know to see his first in-theaters movie helped me set my dislike of this dimension aside :)

Today, Wyatt (known here as "Thing 1") and I spent the afternoon watching Nemo pop out of the massive "TV" and eating M&Ms. Well, Wyatt ate M&Ms. He was perfect! He put on his little 3D glasses when I told him it was time and kept them on! He sat so still and kept his conversation centered around what was happening on the silver screen. That should probably raise a red flag in your mind; Wyatt is exceptionally well behaved but more than a little inquisitive. He has no concept of whispering in movie theaters, so I was glad the room was almost empty. His questions today ranged (loosely) from:

"When is Nemo?"
"What is that?"
"What is his name?"
"What are those little balls?" (answer: the balls were the fish eggs)
"Is that a bad guy?"
"Where's the shark?"
"What are they doing?" (answer: swimming away from the sharks because sharks like to eat fish)
"They like to eat the fish?"
"Where's Nemo?"
"Are they going to the 'quarium?"
"Why did the jelly fish sting her?"

I'm sure I'm missing a few...and several of these I think I answered multiple times :) But who cares! I was just so proud of him for sitting so still and keeping his little glasses on. And he really did look adorable sitting in the huge purple theater seat. He barely weighed enough to keep it open, and we had to set him on a booster to see over the chair in front. His miniature legs stuck almost straight out, (forget dangle) and he was super cute with his arms on the arm rests. Such a little man!

Like the good faux mom I am, I took pictures of my vicarious baby at his first movie. What can I say? I'm a sucker for cute :)

Not normally one to like having his picture made, I was surprised he agreed to stand by the Nemo sign. He is, of course, saying cheese :) 

Again...cheese!!!!

Small Town Grandma

I was the kid who associated visiting Grandma with long, nauseating van rides and assorted cookie wafers, which my sisters and I affectionately called pink, yellow and browns. :) Grandma lives in the tiny no-consequence town of Jerseyville, Illinois which I know and love almost as well as my own not-as-tiny town, Kingsport. A couple of times each year we'd drag ourselves out of bed at whatever unseemly hour of the morning my mom had chosen (and gotten my dad to agree to), visit the bathroom, brush our teeth, and plop drowsily in the van. Ugh. But who am I kidding; the anticipation of seeing our Grandma made the early morning misery bearable.

We'd arrive anywhere between eleven and twelve hours later, depending on how many stops we'd had to make and how quickly we'd managed to rush dad through them. He didn't seem to foster the same sense of urgency we girls did, and why on earth did he insist on drinking coffee?! But we always got there, eventually, and then the good times began...

Jerseyville was where we all got our bike ridin' on! Our neck of Tennessee is far to hilly to afford the casual bike ride, but Jerseyville is as flat as...well, as one would expect the midwest to be, I suppose. We'd ride around the little neighborhoods, through one of the the cemeteries, past massive fields with row upon row of corn, and up and down State Street, the "main street" of that great metropolis. We could ride to the City Park, the library, and Dairy Queen in, oh, 15 minutes, and--get this--we could do it all by ourselves! Perks of a small town.

The week's menu was, and still is, a topic of great interest and importance. Not long after a trip date is established we call in our orders and Grandma Marcella, the once upon a time waitress, takes them all down mentally and doesn't miss a single detail. There is usually vegetable soup (pretty much the only thing she makes that I don't like, though it is famous among the family), ham and beans (my favorite), mashed potatoes, and more desserts than one tribe of aunts, uncles, and first and second cousins could reasonably consume in a month. We're all quite content, to say the least.

One of the special things we all looked forward too when we were little was getting to sleep in Grandma's bed. There are three of us girls and I think we usually stayed six nights, enough for each of us to get two turns. The schedule was strategic, with the last night being the most highly coveted. She'd tell us stories about life when she younger, and if I asked her, she'd tell me how she made certain recipes. Then to fall asleep before she did, as snoring would inevitably ensue. Should it get just too loud to endure, we were allowed to nudge her and tell her to roll on to her side. I still don't think I understand why that made any difference.

One thing Grandma and I share is our love of fried catfish. Mmm-mmm...let me just tell you, I don't advocate fried foods and truthfully, I eat them but rarely. Usually I end up picking the coating off fried chicken and shrimp, but fried catfish...just don't knock it til you try it! Sometimes we'd drive half an hour or so to Kampsville Inn, cross the ferry, and order platters of the stuff. Other times we'd go (still do, actually) to White Spot, a little diner there in Jerseyville, and order catfish sandwiches. They give you more tenders than you can eat, ensuring leftovers that Grandma reheats in the oven or in a skillet later. While I am sure fried catfish is not a delicacy unique to the southern Illinois region, it's something I eat almost exclusively there. A fish sandwich anywhere else just isn't the same, in my experience. I keep trying them to no avail. They just aren't as good.

The last morning of the trip was always sad. I'd fight back tears as I hugged Grandma goodbye, and watch her waive from the storm door as we drove away in the dark morning hours. It was always such a long time until we'd be back "home," as she calls it. It's funny how some people will refer to a place as your home when you've never even lived there. It does feel kind of like a home, of a sort.

I visited Jerseyville in July and it is still the same wonderful old place it's always been. Grandma still cooks like crazy even when there's no one to feed. We still get fried catfish and it still tastes wonderful. I'm happy to tell you that she no longer has to buy me pink yellow and browns; I've acquired a taste for actual desserts and want to share one with you here. I called Grandma last year and asked her for this recipe which she recited from memory. Forget anything hand-written. I've never known her to read a recipe in her life (well, what little I've known of it), and one day we will all probably wish she'd kept a very detailed collection. This is the dessert I almost don't have to request anymore; she knows it's just what I want when I finally get to her house.

Jell-O Cake

1 big packet strawberry-banana Jell-O

3/4 of a large angel food cake, more or less depending on preference

2-3 bananas (not overly ripe)

1 container Cool Whip

Pecans

Tear the angel food cake into small-ish pieces and fill a 9" x 13" glass baking dish. Make Jell-O according to instructions, and let chill for a little while in the fridge, maybe an hour. You don't want it to solidify at all. Slice the bananas into thin discs and sprinkle among the cake pieces. Pour the chilled Jell-O over the cake, and store in fridge until solid (several hours). Cover with Cool Whip and then sprinkle with pecans. Take one bite of this simple, refreshing goodness and think of Grandma.

Now that is a delicious summertime dessert! But why save it for summer? It's delicious all year long. 

This dear old lady will celebrate her 87th birthday in five days, Lord willing. She's a cancer survivor by the grace of God, chef extrordinaire, and Grandma of 12...not to mention great-Grandma to 15, and great-great-Grandma to 1! Though she'll probably never read this as I don't think she's ever used a computer, I send her my love and prayers. 

Happy birthday Grandma! 

Hello Fall: Photo session give-away!

I am a die-hard summer fanatic. Sun, heat, pool, long evenings, bright mornings...I wait for it all year long and mourn its passing every September. Until this year.

For the first time since I can remember, I'm actually ready to bid my favorite season adieu and welcome in the one that follows. I discussed this phenomenon with Todd the other day and decided that the reason probably stems from the fact that this has been the first summer break I've enjoyed since I was 15. Every year since then, I've been working. Not heavily, of course, during my high school years, but I certainly haven't had the utter freedom afforded me this year. It is a gift I will treasure. Thanks baby! :)

In my anticipation to see the autumnal season awakened, I have donned a three-quarter length shirt, and purchased my Bath & Body Works hand soaps and candles (2 small candles for $10, by the way). I wonder how early I can talk Todd into eating soup...generally speaking, it's not his favorite fare.

I'm also really looking forward to fall photo sessions! I already know of a couple that will take place in October, and I can't wait to see the leaves change and fade into the perfect back drop...I get artsy just thinking about it. ;)

In an attempt to share the joy of fall with my hand full of readers, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to do a give-away. I can't take credit for the idea...it's not a Meredith original. But the prize is! To ring in this lovely season properly, I'm doing a photo session give-away! While I'd love to open this up to anyone in the continental United States, I'm afraid it's limited to those in the greater Kingsport/Johnson City area. Here's what you have to do to enter:

Leave me a comment here or on Facebook and let me know what you're most looking forward to this fall; is it the food, the holidays, the weather, the chance to see how God may answer prayers (I'm eagerly awaiting this myself!), anything at all that has your excitement piqued or your wardrobe changing. :)

This will be a weekday morning or early evening shoot in the month of October, and can last for about an hour. I've yet to meet someone who wanted to pose much longer than that anyway. I will draw names this weekend to see who wins...I can hardly wait!

Here are some shots from a few sessions I did last fall. For more pictures from all seasons, visit my website at www.overbeekphotos.com!

Doesn't this just make you want to drink apple cider?! Happy almost fall! 

Some like it very, very hot

Today, Kingsport is enjoying lovely blue-to-partly-cloudy skies with lotsa sunshine and a glorious 89 degrees. And you wonder why the commercials are talking about clinging to the last little bit of summer...this is the life, the absolute life, folks.

This is one reason I'm glad we will be serving in South Africa with our missions organization; it's not exactly the country of perpetual summer, and while it does have all four seasons, the climate is similar to that of South Carolina. That sounds great to me!

Well...it did sound great. It sounded just wonderful until I found out a little teensy-tiny detail about South Africa of which I had previously been blissfully ignorant. There is no air conditioning or--more horrifically--heat. No heat. There is no central heating. I might have a stroke.

I know what you're thinking. "What a spoiled little American girl! Doesn't she know that missionaries are supposed to live quite cheerfully without modern conveniences?!" Yes, thanks, I do. But I will confess that I thought our living conditions in the very big city of Pretoria would be strikingly different than life in a hut in the mountains of Africa (where our friends will be serving). And unlike some, I actually have experience with a heatless environment. Let me take you on a walk down an ice-covered memory lane...

The first winter we were married, Todd and I lived in a mouse-infested rental house (another story) with central heat and air...that didn't work.  Despite our appeals to the landlord, nothing was ever accomplished to rectify the situation, and I nearly died. Strike that...I should have nearly died. Unfortunately, I'm far too healthy to keel over from having to get ready in a 39 degrees bathroom in the morning, but suffice it to say I was miserable from November to March, or thereabouts.

Todd was fine...he went out and bought some long underwear and wool socks and I don't know that he ever made a single legitimate complaint. He just sat around in the cold, being happy. I, on the other hand, carried around a tiny little heater and plugged it in for some semblance of warmth in whatever room I had to be in for more than a couple of minutes. 

The tables turned, however, when summer time rolled around. My patient, selfless husband got a taste of what I'd felt all winter long. Come to find out, he absolutely can't stand being hot.  He went out and bought two box fans (let the record show that I only got ONE tiny little heater...) and he wanted to start eating on the floor in the living room, as he was convinced the lower he was, the cooler the air. I didn't mind eating around the ottoman (we still do that, actually) but I had to object to his suggestion of taking the mattress off the bed and laying it down on the floor (I already mentioned the mice). Lucky for him, his sister and brother-in-law were getting rid of their window unit, so we used that from the end of August through September, I think. Lucky for me, they also got rid of several large heaters :) Though, to be fair, it didn't really get that cold last winter. 

This unfortunate lack of modern comfort aside, I absolutely cannot WAIT to get to our new home in South Africa! Lord willing, we only have a little over four months before we'll be on our way across the planet. It has been incredible to watch God provide almost 85% of our support...such a miraculous blessing. 

It's starting to get kind of exciting around here...take a look at our new city. Isn't it lovely?! :) 

Summer Review

It's August. How does that always happen?

I haven't enjoyed a summer off like this one since I was, well, I guess 15, and let me tell you; it flies by now just like it did back then. However, unlike "back then," I'm not forced to end my summer the first week of August by returning to school ;) I plan to enjoy many more morning walks, afternoons by the pool, and several more of Panera's strawberry poppyseed and chicken salads! (a summertime speciality, so hurry and get one if you haven't already...or if you have :) ) Anyway, all that to say, don't let the onset of the school year convince you that summer is over. It's not.

If this blog were a journal it would be sadly under-updated, I'm afraid. I've done lots that the world (a.k.a., the four people who actually read this) has probably been just dying to know, but as I've let myself get this far behind, I'll just sum up with bullet points. Some of these endeavors will get their own post--believe it or not--but in the meantime...

This summer I have:

• Learned how to bake bread, and discovered I really enjoy it!
• Trained for an 8K with Todd (who, disgustedly, does not have to exercise...he just does it to humor me)
• Run around with my sister who was home from college. She told me I could be her "BFF" for the summer (a presumable honor, I understand), as she claimed she had no other friends without a life. I would say I wasn't sure how to take that, but unfortunately, I was. 
• Laid out by my sister's-in-law pool, where I got the tan of my life! (the aforementioned sister in the third bullet point has, up til now, provided regular and derogatory commentary on the general pasty nature of my usual summertime skin. One of us got pretty dark this summer, and I'll give you a clue as to which: it wasn't her)
• Traveled with my mother to both Pennsylvania (did you know that means Penn's woods?) and Illinois (...I got nothing). More to come on both of these later. 
• Tried lots of new recipes from broiled italian tilapia (win!) to portabella mushroom "burgers" (win!) to roasted vegetable medley (win!) to cauliflower crust pizza (miserable, miserable fail...don't ever do that to yourself)
• Photographed two weddings (a third to come next month!) and participated in two others. I love weddings. In moderation (see my previous post on "The Year of the Wedding"). 

I have generally enjoyed myself and the laid back life that God saw fit to grant me for a few months. It hasn't been all fun and games, of course, though I know it looks it from the highlights! No, Todd and I continue to pray and work toward the goal that Operation Mobilization has set for our support. We have seen the Lord provide commitments for 70% (yay!) of that goal so far, and look forward to seeing how he will bring about the rest. Lord willing, we hope to be able to leave for South Africa in January and join our ministry team after our training! We aren't really sure what to expect yet, and I'm thinking that's probably not a bad thing; but I'm not universally known for being go-with-the-flow, so the lack of details is somewhat of a challenge. But it leaves me wide open to be up for anything when I get there. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. :) 

For insight on the life of a missionary in support-raising mode, I encourage you to read my friend Abby's blog. She puts it all much better than I could. 

I hate to post anything without something of visual interest, and while I know it's a stretch, here's a shot from our recent sister session (shot by Todd this time). You know moms...always gotta have an updated picture for the mantle. ;) 

Happy summering! 

Do I have an inner vegan?

Before you deduce something false from the title of this post, let me assure you that I am far from being vegan. On the contrary, I enjoyed a completely fabulous Strawberry Poppyseed & Chicken salad from Panera the other day...for the fourth time in a week (good thing my addiction is a salad, no?)


My interest in the vegan diet is twofold: first, Todd decided he wanted to eat lighter on the nights we don't go for a run and second, I'm attracted to a diet that includes absolutely no dairy.


I'm always looking for an excuse to buy a good cookbook, so my first step in the vegan venture was finding one on the subject. After flipping through several at BAM, I came home and ordered The Complete Vegan Kitchen by Jannequin Bennett (it was half the price to get it used from Amazon, and that's with shipping). The first part of the book explains veganism and discusses nutrition, ingredients, tools, etc. I love books that read like textbooks, so I wanted one that had a good "getting started" section.


Vegan diets differ from vegetarianism in that no part of any animal is permitted for eating. That means that in addition to any and all meat, no fish, eggs, or dairy are allowed. Even honey and gelatin are no nos. Because I am only interested in eating like a vegan occasionally, I don't intend to follow all the rules. I'm ok with meatless dinners, and I already do without dairy on a daily basis, but eggs...I just don't think I'm ready to lose those.


The meal you see pictured below is called bulgar pilaf with cashews and oven-roasted tomatoes. Roasting tomatoes in the oven is an hours long process (I'd give it a good three), and it took all that was in me to give it a try. I was the kid (alright, and now I'm the adult) who picked out the tiny chunks of tomatoes from spaghetti sauce and pushed them off to the side, so bringing myself to biting into one of these things was a psychological battle.


I confess, I'm still not crazy about eating tomatoes in anything but the sauce form, but this dish was extremely low-cal and filling, a combination for which I'm willing to make mega sacrifices. And I enjoyed cooking with cashews. I'm a nut lover and have never used them before in a savory dish...maybe I should explore those posibilites.


Not pictured here but also on the vegan menu that night was dairy-free vanilla pudding, also from The Complete Vegan Kitchen. Pudding is a less than picturesque dessert on a normal day, but whip up a little sugar, cornstarch and soy milk and the delicious but gelatinous blob you're left with is better experienced in person. Really, though, I do recommend it. I have always liked pudding, but since declaring myself allergic to dairy in middle school, it's been one of those pleasures I've lived many years without. The vegan alternative is tasty, just not as creamy (for obvious reasons) as the "real thing." I've learned that one must let go of expected texture and taste issues if one wants to be happy with substitution. No muffin labeled "gluten-free," no ice cream labeled "dairy-free," and no burger labeled "meat-free" is  going to be quite like you remember their non-allergenic-conscious counterparts. It's best to accept that as early as possible.


My integration of vegan dishes will be slow, I'm sure, as my body considers most vegetables to be foreign matter. One step at a time. :)

4th Festivities

We didn't used to do much in the way of July 4th celebrations, but the addition of several kids and one very luxurious swimming pool have a tendency to change things for the better. The food was delicious, the water fantastic, and the fireworks...well, they were fireworks, but I did enjoy a color commentary from Thing 1, who took in the entire show on my lap: "Look Mernith, a green one! There's a red one! A purple one! Where the blue one go?"

When's the next holiday? I wouldn't mind doing this all over again.

Todd and I started the morning in true patriotic style with red, white and blue pancakes. The white chocolate chips, blueberries, and drizzle of strawberry syrup were completely delicious, but unfortunately, I can't take a bit of the credit. The entire thing was Todd's doing, from the list of ingredients to the perfect execution. He's the pancake man around here, for sure. :)

Thing 1 helped me showcase my mini strawberry-raspberry pies, and I'm so proud of how still he stood while I took this! He got to eat it afterwards, naturally :)  The pies aren't difficult to make, but they are extremely involved. You have to decide if the taste is worth the time. 

It will be a few years before "group" pictures are easy, but for now they are really, really cute. :) 

As she is thus far the only little princess in the family, we all take every occasion to see that she looks the part. From the star-spangled skirt to the oversized bow, Thingette is 100% girl! 

The dinner menu was superb! Chicken salad, watermelon, spinach salad with nuts and craisins, and blue-raspberry jigglers! I think I had about 5 of these...

Thing 2 at the fireworks, practicing his "smile." We're still working on it. :)