We Say, “Let it Grow”

Some of us recently did a fun little “herb garden” project. Herbs and resources are hard to find here, but with a little persistence, problem solving and creativity we were able to find a solution.

Mr. Parsley joined our family as a stow-away from South Africa.

And Mr. Mint was found growing in our garden thanks to some previous ex-patriots who apparently lived here a while before us. Our guards are still baffled at what this foreign plant actually is, but we shall see if they like it in tea. 😉

The problem of protection from the scorching African sun arose which made for a logical idea of baskets.

Since we only found one basket idea that was horridly expensive, extremely small and didn’t hang, it was time to get creative. We gathered our supplies and got to work. Two plastic baskets and one rice bag later, we had spent $4.50 on the hanging basket part. Mr. Parsley cost us $3 and Mr. Mint was free. A total of $7.50 was still significantly cheaper than the original small basket we encountered.

We cut and sewed the rice bag. Why a rice bag? We used it to contain the soil in the basket (that has air holes) and allow for a sifter for excess water to pass out of the soil so as not to rot the plant roots.

Mobility was an important factor in this project as the African sun can easily scorch plants (as has been the case for most of Mr. Mint’s family). So we used ribbons to hang our baskets and allow for moving of them out of direct sunlight as we monitor their progress. This also allows them to come inside too, which is a fun addition to the kitchen window (that doesn’t receive much sun but could be a nice refuge for some heat-exhausted plants).

It was a fun little project and we’re enjoying the fruits of our labor amidst our daily reality of cooking from scratch. 🙂

Fresh is lovely so we say, “let it grow.” 😉

April 29, 2019 0

Just a Tad Crazy

I wanted to share this story with you because I thought you’d enjoy it too. I originally sent it to my sweet friend who also appreciates all things bug-free and clean, but I thought you all would find a smile if I shared this story here too.

“I took the girls on a walk a couple of days ago and we stumbled upon a sewage gutter alongside the national highway. The mucky mud in the gutter was thick and green but in an effort to not get hit by cars, we were closer to it than I would have preferred. And low and behold, my reptile-lover 8-year-old spotted a bunch of tadpoles in all this scum on the side of the road. (Cultural backstory: Mozambicans hate reptiles and dirt.)

So I half-acknowledged Abi’s discovery hoping to drag the crew back home already when my six-year-old asked if she could touch one. …. yeah…. touch one…. We’re standing alongside the national highway with a million people staring at us and she wants to touch a sewage frog?…

Remembering it’s their childhood, “fine,” I said, hoping we could move on. So she pokes one and I tell her not to put her hands in her mouth or near her face until we get home and wash. Natually, at this point everyone else has to touch one and I have a crazy idea when I saw a broken butter tub nearby. Any guess?

Yep, to the audience of passing Mozambicans, this psycho scooped up four tadpoles from the muck and carried them home, holding them out from her body at a distance so none of the sludge would splatter my skirt, to the utter squealing delight of my kids.

The kids came home, we researched info on tadpole care and we are now the proud owners of four boiled lettuce eating scuzz-suckers who now live on our kitchen table. Ha! And this mother is cleaning out their water here at 10p after I’ve been awake since 3:50a because love makes you do some crazy things.

Goodbye reputation in Moz, hello cone of shame. 😉 And to ease both our consciences, we did a good doctor’s scrub when we got to the house because EWWW!!!”

This process even encouraged some self-initiated drawings and recording of directions so we wouldn’t kill our little friends – so bonus school! =)

The story continues as we faithfully fed those little vermins for a few weeks, even transitioning them to a terrarium and protecting them from the cats. Half of them even survived and transitioned to full-grown frogs! Then we let them go in the “Garden of Eden” in our backyard and I held my breath that the dogs wouldn’t eat them and thus horrify my children. We even wet the ground because compassion matters for these squishy friends.

Would I do it again?

Hands down, absolutely.

Would I still think it disgusting?

Hands down, absolutely!

April 5, 2019 0

Right Before the Second Wind

It’s that tension that builds.

The small stitch that gathers your attention.

A reminder that you’re tired.

Right before the second wind.

It’s that tunnel that forms.

Narrowing the options.

Playing on your weaknesses.

Right before the second wind.

The idea is planted.

Maybe you should just stop.

You’ve already come so far.

Right before the second wind.

It’s all spread wide before you.

As your mouth turns to sand.

The distance seems insurmountable.

Right before the second wind.

The memories come back.

How many times you’ve stopped before?

How you’ve probably gone far enough anyway.

Right before the second wind.

It’s when the hard news comes.

When you’re already so tired.

The future distance so vast.

Right before the second wind.

But will it be there?

What if relief doesn’t come this time?

What if you really can’t make it?

Right before the second wind.

Right before the second wind

It will all start to unravel, feeling unreachable

The excuses sounding rational.

Right before the second wind.

Clarity breaks through.

Hold on.

Trust.

It will be there.

Press.

Press!

It’s just right before the second wind.

It’s coming…

Whatever’s in front of me, help me to sing Hallelujah.

In You, I’ll choose to sing Hallelujah.

Amen and amen.

April 4, 2019 0

Yom Kippur

We got the opportunity to enjoy another Biblical celebration that we observed as a part of our homeschooling.

It was a wonderful opportunity to discuss our need for atonement and redemption as well as forgiveness from God and for each other.

We enjoyed pouring over these topics in God’s Word and sharing in encouraging and praying for each other.

My older girls even tried their first go at fasting while we filled our normal meal time praying and reading the Word.

It was a meaningful observance of Yom Kippur for all.

April 3, 2019 0

Take Your Marks

I posted these on Facebook as they happened but I wanted to archive them here.

I have begun taking the girls on runs with me, to their desired excitement, and they have done incredible!

THIS KID took her first run with mom and ran TWO MILES (3K’s)!!! Way to go, Rachael!!! You rocked it!!! – sweaty and thankful – oh right, and did I mention that it was 95 (35C) degrees? – she’s a fighter!!!

(Rachael has more recently run 3 miles [5 k’s] with me).

THIS KID took her first run with mom and rocked a MILE (1.6k) like a champ!!! Great stamina for an 8 year old pushing through 82F (27C) degree weather! And, of course, what run would be complete without pretending to push your kid in a huge mud puddle, picking flowers and balancing on the curbs? 😉 – soaking up time with this awesome kid. – Abi’s crazy enough to want to do it again – ❤️ her so.

THIS KID ran for 1.5 MILES (2.4k’s) on her first run with Mom. My little Energizer Bunny did her run in spurts with her longest spurt being 3/4 of a mile (1.2k’s to be precise). And naturally, what run is complete without hopping to touch tree branches, skipping, singing, talking a hundred miles an hour, and voluntarily holding mommy’s hand when crossing the road? And in proper Hannah fashion, she even confidently directed post-run stretching. Hehe.- Love her joyful world. – Six years of amazing.

Eden’s still a bit young to run with me and hasn’t expressed an interest, but the older three have done amazing and I’m so proud of their hard work!

April 2, 2019 0

38 Easy Steps to Making Pumpkin Bread in Mozambique

Hope to make a pumpkin pie in two years when your Mother-in-law and Father-in-law visit around Thanksgiving.
After their visit, save the leftover canned pumpkin, affectionately remembering the pie you devoured.
Remember the canned pumpkin randomly one day and daydream about FINALLY using your bread maker.
Receive word that the only working converter is for 300 watts and under.
Cross your fingers that your bread maker is 300 watts.
After reading the 700 watt sticker, momentarily wonder if this is a sign of the impending end times.
Sulk internally for 117 seconds.
Look up a recipe online making sure to search under “the best” because of the effort you will put in and narrow your search to your limited ingredients.
When your children ask if they can help, pretend that you don’t speak English.
When the lightbulb comes on, also pretend not to speak Portuguese until they lose interest and stop touching all the stuff.
Remind yourself that you’ll be a more encouraging, “let’s do it together” mother when it’s NOT almost kid bedtime.
Wait for the heat index to barely slip below “melting of internal organs” to preheat your oven.
Chuckle at the exact oven preheating degrees on the recipe while guessing what angle of the knob between on and off might possibly be 350 degrees.
Sift bugs out of your flour, crop dusting your table and the remaining ingredients because of the isolating fan.
DO NOT turn off the fan or this baking endeavor will instantly be over as you slip into heat exhaustion.
Run out of sugar mid-mixing and retrieve the excess from the freezer where the ants can’t reach it.
Crack each egg individually into a small bowl and then add it to the batter to avoid the flavor addition of “green, rotten horror”.
Pound the dried cloves you found randomly at a grocery store 1.5 hours away (and paid way too much for “for such a time as this”) with a wooden mortar and pestle, guessing at a quantity that will equal 1/2 a teaspoon and spilling some on the floor while pounding too violently.
Blame the floor with accusing eyes.
Blend all dry ingredients together and combine them into the wet ingredients in a separate bowl.
Press through the moment of realization that you will have to hand wash this eternity of dishes.
Spill a little flour on the chair while stirring because the power flickers.
Blame the chair with accusing eyes.
Dig out two bread loaf pans.
Shut a cat in the pantry.
Contemplate using parchment paper in your pans.
Remember that it’s a 2 day drive to replace the said parchment paper if it’s in stock or a $3,000 roundtrip ticket for a relative.
Walk straight to the fridge and retrieve the butter.
Move the homeschool math books aside on the table, dusting off the flour from step 14, and grease the pans with your bare hand to avoid even one more dish to wash because it’s the end of the day, people.
Wash greasy hands and test oven temperature with your face.
Ten beads of sweat means it’s preheated.
Two loaves go in and set a timer for three-quarters of the baking time on the recipe.
Check on your loaves like a paranoid mother of a newborn at least every 2 minutes.
After the fourteenth or fifteenth poke, resolve to remove the bread.
Glory in the fresh smell of victory and tomorrow’s breakfast all in one.
Resolve to never bake again when you turn around to the precarious mound of dishes in the sink.
Remember that you don’t have any more access to pumpkin products anyway.
File it away on your mental list for Stateside baking options in 15 months.

April 1, 2019 1