Saturday, May 4, 2013

Every Day, Every Hour

Last February, I had the privilege of joining a group of about 25 people from my church on a mission trip to Swaziland, Africa where the church sponsors a Carepoint for local kids. Mkhombokati Carepoint is a place for kids to go before and after school to have a safe place to hang out and have a meal before they walk home for the day.

Mkhombokati Carepoint


The 2013 team from the church left for Swaziland first thing this morning. My heart is broken that I couldn't go this year, but moreso because of the news we received last night. Thanduxolo, a young boy of about 8 years old who starting going to the Carepoint last year while we were visiting, had a colostomy about a year and a half ago. His condition recently worsened and he has had to spend the last several days in the hospital. The doctors weren't initially confident in his ability to survive through surgery. He went into surgery early this morning, and the most recent update announced that he made it through and is now in the ICU. The surgeon says "the next 24 hours can be tough" as Thanduxolo lost a lot of blood during the surgery. Please keep your thoughts and prayers with Thanduxolo for a full recovery.

Thanduxolo and his special friend Crystal from our 2012 team

Thanduxolo is such a sweet boy, and he is the best big brother. Thanduxolo's little brother's entire life's comfort is wrapped up in him. They wouldn't go anywhere or do anything without one another. Crystal and Thanduxolo hit it off right away and became very close. My thoughts are also with her through this difficult time. The 2013 team couldn't be arriving at a better time. I know they will provide so much love and comfort to these kids and be there for Thanduxolo.

I won't go into the details of last year's trip in this post, but hopefully in the weeks to come. The entire mission trip was an experience that can never be fully explained, but even now, a year later, I can still hear the voices of these amazing children. Our group sang to them every day, but one day they blew us all out of the water with a song that I will never forget as long as I live. We were all so taken aback and emotional, in awe of the raw power behind their voices. They sang "Every day, and every hour, you are faithful O' Lord."

It's so funny how sometimes we go into a mission trip thinking "we're going to make a difference to them" but they end up changing us. These kids are the perfect example of love in its purest form.

He is good, and He will provide. Every day. Every hour.







Saturday, April 20, 2013

Girls Night and Gourmet Grub

Brian went out of town to Minnesota on business this last week and left me home alone to fend for myself for 5 whole days! I had the company of the pups but my nights mostly consisted of a book/movie and a Lean Cuisine.

So Wednesday, my girl Courtney came over to relieve me of my boredom and loneliness for a fancy schmancy homemade gourmet dinner. A celebration was in order: for her upcoming and much anticipated graduation day next week. So excited and proud of that girl! But because she has had her head stuck in books, we hadn't seen each other in over a month. Unacceptable.

So we popped a couple bottles of wine, and exploded with a months worth of gabbing while we made dinner. We made a mushroom marsala with chicken over a bed of creamy polenta. Yum! The picture doesn't do it justice, but it turned out beautifully.



After dinner, we must've had a burst of confidence, enough to attempt making a chocolate souffle from scratch (having never made or even tasted one before.) I was surprised they were so easy to make! I was worried about whipping the egg whites into soft, then stiff peaks. No electric mixer in my my kitchen, we whipped it old school. It took the strength of both of our right arms but we nailed it!

Stiff Peaks!! We were way more excited than was necessary. Haha
20 minutes later we popped these babies out of the oven. I pretended to know what I was doing based on what I recently saw on Masterchef. I broke into the center of the souffle with a spoon and it came out clean. Definitely a fan of souffles now, but I don't think I'll ever be able to justify paying for one in a restaurant. Both of them cost about $6 to make (including the cost of both ramekins.)





Bailey update:
We went back to the vet on Wednesday because she still had the crazy eyes. They looked a little better but the bulging didn't go down and they seemed to be bothering her more than before. Doc gave us some prescription eye drops, and her eyes are already showing improvement 2 days later. She's beginning to look normal again!


I have to admit I think I'll miss the crazy eyes a little bit. I had a good laugh each time she looked up at me with her big eyes that looked like she was looking right and left at the same time, the opposite of cross-eyed. I am a terrible terrible person.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Hypochondriacs Anonymous

Hello, my name is Heather, and I'm a hypochondriac.

In the last few days, I've noticed that Bailey's eyeballs have become unusually large. Like they may pop right out of her head at any moment. I mentioned it to Brian, who initially didn't see a difference and deduced that I was crazy. (It's not uncommon for him to be found absolutely right in these cases.) But the other night, Brian agreed that Bailey's eyes did seem to be bulging out of her sockets.
Bailey a couple weeks ago and now

Never having seen or heard of this happening to a dog (or anything for that matter), I headed straight to Google where I came across several terrifying articles explaining "What to Do if Your Dog's Eye Pops Out of the Socket" and about how any trauma can put pressure on the ocular nerve sometimes causing blindness. PetMD is not my friend.

After reading enough of these articles to severely freak myself out, I took poor bug-eyed Bailey to the after-hours emergency vet. We piled in the car, exploded through the doors, sniffed every possible surface of the waiting room, peed on the floor, tackled the nurse, and then finally saw the doctor. He said it looked like nothing to worry about, that it's probably just allergies and some Benedryl and eye drops should take care of the inflammation. *Phew*

It was a long drive home; I drove, feeling sheepish yet relieved, and Brian smiled smugly in the passenger seat. Completely understanding as always, he is so great about easing my worries and anxiety. He puts up with my crazy so well. Poor guy will probably run for the hills before it comes time to talk about kids.

I'm so glad that Bailey's goofy looking face isn't worrisome to anyone but me; here's hoping the Benedryl and eye drops do the trick before she looks like this:

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Festival of Colors

This Easter Brian and I went to the Holi Festival of Colors. Holi takes place at a Hindu Temple in Spanish Fork, UT (about an hour South of Salt Lake City.) It's so funny when I see pictures of this temple on Pinterest, labeled as being somewhere in India. It really does look authentic, but it's sitting on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Utah.



The festival of colors announces the arrival of spring and the passing of winter. It's a celebration to mark the triumph of good over evil, light over darkness, and kindness over cruelty. The colors, when thrown, represent oneness and brotherhood with all humanity: a lesson of spiritual and social harmony. There are tens of thousands of people that attend each year. Even though there are so many people everywhere, the event somehow maintains its peaceful message.

I went to the Festival of Colors for the first time about 4 years ago. Back then, it was only twice a day that they would throw the colors, and there were much more people at once. Now, they throw the colors every two hours because there are so many people that come. They've got organized parking now, vendors, security, etc. The Festival of Colors is kindof a big deal.

So basically, this is what happens:


This is us before the madness, so fresh and so clean.


Everyone gathers together in the anticipation of the count down, then the colors are all thrown in the air, and you're engulfed in a cloud of what combines to become a purple dust (by the way, the colors are scented... like roses). It's fantastic. 



After the dust settles....



We are a colorful couple. We got another packet of colors on the way back to the car. Guess what color.
Totally worth the drive, and the crowds, and the purple stuff that stays in your nose and ears for days on end. (Oh yea, blowing your nose is great fun after this.)


The fun didn't end in Spanish Fork. Bailey helped me do laundry when we got home. I found a packet with a little bit of of purple colors left in my pocket and we had a festival all our own. Awwww. She is such a trooper.


Tuesday, March 26, 2013

There's No Place like Home

Earlier this month, we (Brian, myself and the pups) loaded up the car and headed to my hometown of Lander, Wyoming. With a population of just over 7500, Lander is the kind of small town where everyone knows almost everyone. Lander sits near the center of the state of Wyoming in the Wind River Mountains. It's a genuinely beautiful place.

March 3rd marked my grandpa's 80th birthday (born 3/3/33), and his family and friends came from all over the place to celebrate. My mom, my uncles and aunts planned a great event at the senior center in town, where over 50 people showed up! It was kind of a surprise, he thought it was just going to be immediate family. He was surprised to see extended family and friends, but happy that both of us from Utah (plus Brian), and my "greeney" cousins from Colorado all made it. I know that none of us would have missed it for the world. Even my cousin Kadie, 8 months pregnant (or "beer belly" depending on who you ask) made the trip from Colorado Springs.

Photos courtesy of Christy Meredith

The party was a blast. A few of grandpa's family and close friends got up in front of the room to take a shot at embarrassing him. He's usually the jokester, but this time the jokes were on him. Growing up, he used to distract me at the dinner table to look the other direction while he swiped my plate from in front of me and hide it in his lap. He was always so quick about it, sneaky bugger, that I never suspected him. (I mean, why would he do such a thing!?) Other times, he would replace my silverware with a spatula instead of a fork, a ladle in place of a spoon, shotglass for my water, etc. and insisted that I attempt to eat dinner with them. Later, he graduated into the remote control whoopee cushion sound machine, hidden under the chairs at the dinner table. That was a fun little phase. Good times.

It was a short visit. Too short, as always. But it was so nice to see everyone and to have everyone together; which has become such a rarity anymore.

On the way home, the pups were pretty good in the car. Below are a couple of snapshots I took: both of them peeking out the door window to watch us pack up the car, Pepper waking daddy up from his nap on the floor, and Bailey intently interested in the passing landscape from the car. She looked out the window for a good part of the trip home. Funny dogs.

On our way out of town, I snapped this gem (below) from the car as Brian sped past. This area is always the highlight of the 300 mile drive for me. Red Canyon sits just a few miles outside of Lander; like a welcome banner, then a wave goodbye. "Until next time..."



Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Luck O' the Irish

La sona naomh Padraig!! (Irish for "Happy St. Patrick's Day!") I am such a sucker for holidays. Any holiday. I get all twitterpated with holiday excitement and a celebration in some form is bound to progress. There are rules and traditions to follow before these special days pass for another year. For St. Patty's, you gotta wear green or beware the pinching machine, must attempt to speak with a (bad) Irish accent, and blame your missing car keys on Leprechauns. Brian isn't big on participation or holiday cheer, but he's learned to at least go along with my shenanigans.



We stayed home for St. Patty's as the weather was less than desirable. We enjoyed the company of one another and of the puppies, we drank green beer and ate delicious "traditional" (as far as I know) Irish fare. I made Corned Beef Rubens for lunch and a hearty Shepherds Pie (stew/gravy with mashed potatoes on top) for dinner. Both were my own experiments than actual recipes, which almost never turn out exactly how I want them, but I have to toot my own horn this time and admit that they turned out to be amazing. The Shepherds Pie was definitely a hit with the man-child Brian: as "most definitely one of my favorite things you've ever made for me." Pretty high praise - he does not say this often. Twas the luck o' de Irish I guess.

I was so excited about the success that I decided to share this delightful recipe with my fabulous readers.

Corned Beef Reuben Sandwiches: (makes 2 sandwiches)

Ingredients:
  • 1/2 medium yellow onion, long slices
  • 1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 6 slices of Corned Beef (aka Irish bacon -I got slices from the deli at the grocery store)
  • 4 slices Muenster cheese
  • 4 slices Rye bread (I like Oroweat Dark Rye)
  • Top with 1000 Island Dressing or Spicy Brown Mustard as desired
Instructions:
  •  Saute onion slices over medium high heat in a small bit of olive oil until softened, meanwhile, pan fry the Corned Beef until lightly browned. Add Worcestershire sauce to onions and saute until absorbed. 
  •  Add all ingredients like a grilled cheese. Just in case you've never made a grilled cheese sandwich, do the following: Lightly butter rye bread on one side, and lay buttered side down on a warmed skillet over medium heat. Add fried Corned Beef, sauteed onions, and cheese, then the other slice of bread (buttered side up.) Add 1000 Island Dressing or mustard on top rye slice if desired. Brown both bread slices. Serve warm.

It's so unbelievably easy and just as tasty. I can call it traditional because of the corned beef, but I suppose I won't truly know until I make it across the pond to the land of green myself someday. Erin go bragh! (Ireland Forever!)



***Bonus***

Just a fun little tid-bit.
This happened:


Story:
Brian took a week off work a few weeks ago to use his vacation time before he lost it. On a Sunday night, I quickly drew faces on all of the eggs while he was upstairs. I thought it would be a funny little surprise for him. I waited impatiently all week for him to say something and giggled to myself at the thought of him whipping the carton lid open and seeing these faces stare up at him.  But the dude didn't make himself breakfast all week! Finally, on the last day of his vacation, I stole his muffin that he would've eaten for breakfast, thinking it would force him to reach for the eggs. It worked. He joked that I have too much time on my hands, and that he almost didn't want to eat them...almost.





Monday, March 4, 2013

The Good Fight

Okay so, remember my resolution to read 1-2 books each month? Well let's mark January and February as a complete fail. There really is no excuse, I just didn't make time for it.

I started the year off with The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho; a genuinely remarkable read. I just finished it on March 1st. Even though it took me 2 months to read 260 pages (pathetic, I know), I thoroughly enjoyed it whenever I managed to pick it up. Paulo Coelho is an incredibly wise man. I have "ruined" (says Brian) the book with my scribbles in the margins and my underlining of passages I deem thought provoking. Which is...a good chunk of each page.


Throughout the book, an underlying message of the "good fight" appeared again and again:

"The good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young and our dreams first explode inside us, we are very courageous, but we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight but by then we no longer have the courage to go to combat. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams are childish, or too difficult to realize,or the result of our not having known enough about life.We kill our dreams because we're afraid to fight the good fight."

And I sat there and pondered...what's my "good fight?" What am I supposed to be "fighting" for?

For those of you that know me well, you know that my great love is for travel. Like...obsessed! I saw most of the United States in high school, but I sprouted an interest in other cultures, religions and languages in college. I actually graduated with my Associates degree in Humanities. (Most of you are like, whaaa?) And almost everyone asked me, "what are you going to do with that?" When I said "something to do with travel, like a travel agent or cultural anthropologist." Then they told me it was a waste, and not practical. But, it's still what I want to do every day. Even if all I do is plan fabulous vacations for others and never go myself. It makes me happy.

"When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the act of rebirth....Adapting oneself to new situations and receiving in return all of the thousands of blessings that life generously offers to those who seek them."---Paulo Coelho, The Pilgrimage

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On another note, Brian and I took a field trip to Barnes & Noble a couple of weeks ago; Brian had a gift card left over from Christmas that he had been dying to redeem. (He found 3 great books he's really excited about -  he read the first 50 pages of one in the store before he bought it. Thanks Gene and Deb!) He even let me use his remaining $1.32 toward my purchase. What a gentleman. Ladies, I'm keepin this one. No, but really, he's great.

While he was nerding out in the Sci-Fi section, I had my own geek-fest in the Travel Essays. I spent over an hour navigating a whole shelf and a half; I stood there like a star-struck teenager. I had butterflies furiously flapping in my stomach. I stood there flipping through, reading, day dreaming, reminiscing about my own travel disasters. That's when I realized...this is my dream. At least once, I want to be one of these crazy nomads that drops everything and spends their savings on an unbelievable year long trip to everywhere, for no other reason than to see what happens. I'm way too impatient to save it for my mid-life crisis. Anyway I left the bookstore with a discounted Ken Follett novel, Walden, and about 45 pictures of books that went straight onto my wish list on Amazon.com. Of that entire shelf of Travel Essays, probably 3 of them didn't make it on that list.


What can I say? It's my passion. For a while now I've toyed around with the idea of taking an online course in Travel Writing. (Yes, there is such a wonderful thing.) And now, I'm seriously thinking I'll give it a shot. Gotta go for it... gotta fight the good fight.