24 Hours

Friday, November 22nd, 5:00 pm:  Pumpkin pies came out of the oven.  Sadly, I do not have Costco this year.  I am back to cooking pumpkin pies from this:

This ain’t no mamsy-pamsy carving pumpkin.  This is a PUMPKIN.  You couldn’t carve this pumpkin unless you had a chain saw.  We had to hack the thing open.  Thankfully, it made delicious pies.

Receive a text message from Lauren.  Can you cook two chickens for tomorrow?  Our turkey option fell through so we are just doing chicken. 

I found out later that “the turkey option” was going to cost $126.  Yeah, chicken sounds delicious.

6:00 pm:  We head out to dinner at Verna’s.  Verna is a South African woman who serves Mexican food in her front yard on Friday nights.  In Tanzania.  Yep, this is a crazy world we live in.  On the way to Verna’s, we stop by the butcher and pick up two chickens.  

9:00 pm:  I stick one of the chickens in the crock pot and the other in the fridge.  

Saturday, November 23rd, 8:00 am:  Feed starving children.

Take chicken out of crock pot; pull it apart.  Stick in the other one.  

Make bread dough.  Leave it to rise.  

9:00 am:  Alyssa gets dropped off at my house.  We’re going to the Artisan Market.  Or rather, WE’RE GOING TO THE ARTISAN MARKET!

So this is the thing.  I don’t get to go shopping very often, except for things like fruit and bread and laundry detergent.  Now, I’m not a big shopper in general, but after months go by with no shopping, I get pretty excited when it’s the time of year for the Artisan Market.  It comes around only once a year, when about 85 artisans gather from all over Tanzania to showcase their creativity.  

I told Gil, “I’m going to spend a lot of money today. But since these are all non-profits, it’s practically like I’m giving the money to charity.”  He just rolled his eyes.  

But seriously, friends, look at this stuff.  Wouldn’t you get excited too?

This is what I bought for myself (those are ornaments on the left).  Sadly, I can’t show you the rest of my purchases because Christmas is coming and I can’t keep certain people from reading this post.  

By the way, if you are just totally jealous that I got to shop here, just hop on over to Karamaand find a lot of the same things.  

12:00 pm:  Alyssa and I drag ourselves away from the Artisan Market.  We stopped at a store on the way home because Alyssa needed sage for her stuffing.  

1:30 pm:  I arrive home and jump into a frenzy of frantic activity.  In case you haven’t figured it out, we are celebrating Thanksgiving today.  Yes, I know it’s Saturday the 23rd.  But the last Thursday of the month is only a national holiday in the United States of America.  For the rest of the world, it’s an ordinary work day.  Thus, we celebrate on Saturday.

I turn my risen dough into rolls.  I make a green salad.  I cut up the other chicken.  I make a chocolate mousse pie.  All in an hour and a half.  I am a sweaty mess by the time I am done.  (It’s about 90 degrees here these days).  With Gil’s help, it all gets done.  Yes, it was pushing it to go to the Artisan Market the morning of Thanksgiving, but seriously, how could I have passed up the ARTISAN MARKET?

3:00 pm:  We head to Ben and Lauren’s house for Thanksgiving.  Every year, it’s tradition to celebrate with our Reach Global team.  We are all in different ministries, so we rarely see them other than about once a month, but here, they are family.  Our kids call them Aunt and Uncle and Grandma and Grandpa.  None of us are blood related, and they can’t ever really replace our actual family, but they sure bring us a lot of joy.  

The afternoon is filled with chicken and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, running children, and lots and lots of laughter.  Just as Thanksgiving should be.  

9:00 pm:  Stick the kids in the shower; put them to bed.  Head to the kitchen to wash up; put the leftovers in the fridge; put the dishes away.  

Open a cupboard a spot The Cockroach.  

AHA!  This horrible creature has been pooping in my cabinet for the last couple of weeks but has evaded capture.  So now that I have spotted him, war is on.  Gil is out watching a soccer game (we don’t have TV stations so he watches games at a hotel) so it is just Amy vs. The Cockroach.

I spend 15 minutes chasing him all throughout my cupboards, but in the end, I am victorious.  With satisfaction, I watch him writhe in agony to his death.  That’s what you get for pooping in my cupboards.  

I’m sorry to end this post so digustingly. But you want to know my life?  This is my life.  The Good, the Bad, and the Cockroaches.