Happy Mother's Day!

That best academy, a mother's knee.
James Russell Lowell, poet, critic and diplomat

The other day, as I was making homemade cream cheese, I began to think of my mom and a little dish she used to make for us when I was around 7 years old.

We lived in Mexico at the time; camping out because housing through my dad's job had fallen through. All six of us kids, plus our parents, lived in a tent and a van. It was a fair drive outside of town where my dad worked teaching English. Occasionally, when my dad brought fresh milk home, it would spoil and sour.

My mom would take that sour milk, which many people would deem unusable, and boil it up. The heat would cause the curds to separate from the whey and after straining the milk and collecting the curds, my mom would add honey (and perhaps a bit of lemon?) creating this wonderful little dessert. We loved it so much that we would clamour around my dad when he returned from home begging to know if perhaps the milk had spoiled again.

This has always been one of my favorite memories, but recently it came to mean more to me. As I got older, I learned that my mom doesn't really even enjoy cooking. She'll do it, but she doesn't feel confident in the kitchen and she'd rather not cook if she can avoid it. The fact that she would create this wonderful dish out of seeming defeat is that much more amazing to me.

I feel like this sums up my mom so wonderfully. She is one of the sweetest and most positive people I know. She doesn't just take life's lemons and make lemonade, she takes soured milk and makes cheese 'n' honey delight. And I'm not just saying that because she's my mom and I owe her my life. Anyone who knows her would back me up. She has always striven to put a bright and cheerful face on whatever she goes through and I admire and love her for that.

My mom and I last April

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

I love you!

Exactly One Year Ago: Doncha Hate When This Happens?

I Think God Loves Me

A couple weeks ago I discovered a new website: Kitchen Belleicious. I've really been enjoying looking over her recipes and trying new things.

A recipe I was most excited to find was one for Sourdough bread. I love, love, love Sourdough bread!!! Now, that I think about it it's probably not a good idea for me to have in the house. Hmmm....

Anyway, I was so happy to find this new recipe and was eager to try it out. 

One problem......it needed instant mashed potato flakes. Oh, dear. There are none of those to be found in my little grocery store. I determined to try the more expensive stores on our next trip to Lusaka.

This week we got some guests. We all have mutual friends in Lusaka and those Lusaka friends sent up a box of assorted groceries for us that they had collected from a store in Lusaka. The store distributes soon to expire goods to orphanages. 

I'm sure you can guess what was in that box.

You got it!

Instant Mashed Potatoes!!!

I don't know if it will work the same as flakes but I'm gonna try it. I will let you know....

So, this is my science experiment. I started it Thursday night and left it out overnight and now it has to stay in the fridge for 3 days and then be fed, left out for 12 hours, back in the fridge to sleep for 3 days, get fed again and then have playtime on the counter for 12 hours. 

Why on earth I thought I could handle feeding yet another thing on schedule I have no idea.

I very well might be mad.

But at least I know I'm loved!

Those Who Serve

We arrived at the San Jacinto battle reenactment just after it started and as we were wending our way through the crowds we listened to the narrator. It was difficult to hear at first but just as we made it to a good viewing spot a line of men marched by and the crowd began to cheer and call out encouragement for those men heading to defend the Alamo. I was surprised when my eyes filled with tears. I knew this was simply a play but somehow it was very real all of a sudden and these were real men who had had families and children and loved ones. 

  Maybe it's the 'Hollywood' effect. Watching movies like The Alamo where names from history take on color and become real people with personalities.

  I've always had a hard time with battle and soldier movies. Their dedication to the cause and their willingness to lay down their lives for what they believe in, as well as their obedience to authority, completely breaks my heart. I think this is partly because I am, by nature, a selfish person. I don't know whether I would be able to march into battle knowing full well I could be walking toward my death.

As the Texans lined up to march on the Mexican camp the narrator reminded us that Sam Houston had encouraged his men to rest up while he restlessly patrolled and planned. On the other hand the Mexican general had kept his men busy all night building defenses so that by morning they had all collapsed from exhaustion and there was no one at all defending the camp.

I felt such sadness at the thought of all the young men who, due to poor leadership, had died. Yes, we gained our Texan independence and we can rejoice in that but I can never, ever feel glad about those lives that were lost. I turned to a lady sitting next to me and remarked how sad I was. I was near to tears and she said she was surprised herself at the emotion that she was feeling. 

  Just then a man was carried away from the battle and laid gently on the ground by his comrades while the narrator told how he had played a big part in the victory but he died there on the battlefield. As the narrator told this part of the story, he broke up and had a hard time finishing his sentences. I, too was a complete mess by this time. 

It made me so grateful for those who defend us and protect our freedoms. No matter what or how you feel about war you cannot fault those who serve. This is not a political statement of any sort aside from the fact that I think that we all need to remember that in every struggle there are real humans on each side. I feel much more challenged to pray for those who serve in the Armed Forces. They are doing a job and their lives are in the hands of our leaders.