sweetest hubby award

Convo between me and my true love:

He: Wow, you look great! It's gotta be those exercise classes, right?
Me: I've only gone to 2 classes...

:)

artsy

We often comment that Rey should have studied Mechanical Engineering. He is an Industrial Engineer... but he has an uncanny sense for how things work and how to fix things. It is his absolute favorite thing to loose himself for hours with some broken thing, and emerge victorious with the answer.

I joke that I should've studied Industrial Engineering. Rey's area of study specializes in process, especially in the factory world. How things get put together, how the process could be made faster, more streamlined. Let me tell you, that is my specialty. Be it good or bad, my brain is always firing at me faster more efficient ways to get the job done. I think it drives my poor details-loving man crazy, but the space between A-B always seems small to me.

Enter my new job with my friend, Doris. Let's just start off by saying--growing up with 7 brothers and a momma with more than enough on her plate did not leave much room for "crafty-ness". No ma'am. We did not labor much with the hot glue gun or make large poofy creations from ribbon and styrofoam. It was a pretty straight-forward and durable world I grew up in (which I loved). However, my friend Doris was gifted with an amazing sense of color and texture combinations that help her to create memorable and beautiful jewelry from the beads she sells. She also has these hands that seem to be both strong and flexible, able to work deftly with the smallest of pieces and to coax them into obedience.

Having worked far more with diapers and shovels (not together...yet), this has been a completely new world for me. I love all kinds of learning and I love being creative, so it has been a world that I am enjoying. I do have to admit feeling less than adequate many times--since many of the regulars at Doris's store are more like her than like me.

Doris offers several jewelry making classes at her store. A new one taught the process of "filigrana". Basically, the process involves making jewelry from molding wire into circles, swirls, designs and interlocking them all into one piece. Usually there are beads accenting at certain parts.

Doris asked if I'd be interested in taking the class. She hoped I'd be able to learn the process and then teach some classes myself.

Did I mention I've never done any kind of jewelry making? That pliers aren't a 3rd hand for me? That I've taken exactly 3 of Doris's BEGINNER classes and this is definitely an advanced technique?

But, I'm up for anything. So I said, "Sure!" We got schedules figured out, and I went to my first class. For 3 HOURS, I made circles, and circles and circles.

Tiny circles.

Observe:



I mean... eye-crossingly tiny!



The thing is, every ring has to be completely round, the exact same size. The place where the wires of the circle meet need to overlap the tiniest little bit... enough to close it tightly, but not so much as to warp the circle.

For ever 3 rings I made, 2 were rejected. That was when I was doing well.

I envisioned the teacher banging his head to a mushy pulp every day as I left the class.

And, being the "streamlining" type person I am... all I could think about was this huge container that Doris has behind the counter of thousands of those perfect rings, made by a MACHINE! Hellllooooo?? Can't I just use those rings to make this precious necklace?

It was then that I realized it. I am not an artist. I think that artists revel in the process almost more than the finished product. They take pride in knowing just how much of their art was made by their own hand.

Nope. I'm just artsy. I like learning about stuff. I like seeing how things were made. I like being creative--to a point. It's just the way it is. There is only so much time I will invest in something before I am asking myself if there is a more efficient way around this mountain.

It's kind of a sad realization, but not a new one. I know I don't have the staying power to perfect a craft. It just makes me admire more people that do.

PS--I am not taking that class any more. It demanded more time than I could put into it. And, we decided I should probably conquer Beginner and Intermediate before I take on Advanced. :)

my limits.

Some sweet friends had a get together/meal for a bunch of us tonight.

Rey ate first and then wrangled Aleni while I scooped some food onto my plate to gobble it down.

Rey asked if I had gotten anything out of that dish. That dish was a covered dish which held some unknown black, gnarly, mushy looking substance which I passed on as I went for the identifiable rice and beans.

Him (brightly): You should try some!
Me: What is it?
Him (looking around for help): I can't remember the name of it...?? (getting no help, he shrugs:) Well, anyways. It's cooked blood and onions!" (smiling encouragingly)

I told him since he'd described it so beautifully.... I'd pass.

not so bad

Disinfecting fruits and veggies ain't so bad when it looks like this:

sending love.

Will. William. Will Patrick.
When you arrived, time for me stood still.
It was as if the hurry, scurry, flurry disappeared
And the only thing that mattered was you.
You are here.

Your arrival was momentous for many reasons.
You are number 4 in your family.
Number 12 to my auntie count.
You were number 1 in your family for me.
Because you were the first of your siblings
At whose birth I was absent.

Will, you are a sweet bundle of perfection.
I can imagine how perfectly sweet you smell.
How your wrinkly little toes object to being washed.
How your little eyes try to make sense of this foreign world.
The love you get from your proud older siblings.

You reminded me, nephew of mine,
You made me feel the distance.
You helped me remember the tightness of sister bonds,
The one-of-a-kind inner knowing of sisterhood.
You made that truth so clear to me that I cried that day.
Cried like I haven't in a long time.
Because I miss you. Miss your mom. Your siblings.
I miss home.

Will, I send a kiss to you across these many miles.
A light kiss on your warm, smooth forehead.

Hoping it gets to you okay,
Your loving aunt

growing room.

"Every human being is drawn to move forward and learn. What isn't permitted to grow up just gets old...
Generosity is the signature of adult love.
In supporting and encouraging each other, we learn the lesson generosity teach--that givers also receive.... Allowing, encouraging, even sacrificing so that a spouse can become all that is in him/her to become--this is how to make a marriage grow. It is also how to let your marriage grow you."

From the article "Room to Grow" by Kate Braestrup.

clouds.

Today, a friend of mine from here in Fresnillo wrote on Facebook: "Clouds... beautiful clouds... what a wonderful day!"

Now, this may sound odd to those of you still in the gray clutches of winter... but, we haven't had precipitation of any kind since early September. That means we've had about 5 whole months of nothin' but sunshine. Sure, it's cold now... but we still have the cheery sun greeting us every single day.

This really is mind-blowing to the Central Illinois native that I am. I mean--no rain, no snow, no nothing?? Seriously? As you can imagine... things are veeerrrryyy dry around here. (Except for our front yard which Rey still has looking shockingly green thanks to his nightly watering).

Yesterday, clouds rolled in late afternoon. Yes. After 5 months of pure blue with a white puff here or there... the clouds made an appearance. They really do feel like a presence. A rolling expanse of fluffy gray blanketing the sky. The air feels still and dampish. Sounds seem muffled.

Thankfully, this calming sensation brought by our gray sky-cover seems to have affected the babies. They have been exceptionally mellow... and were both ready for naps long before nap time rolled around.

I am hoping the rainy season holds off just 2 weeks longer. You see, our roof leaks. And so do our windows. The landlady is having things repaired at the beginning of February.

Then... I say... Let it pour!

well, yes. you could say that...

As I mentioned before, I am now working 2 mornings a week at a "Make-your-own" jewelry store name Caliza (which I am loving, by the way). Being an American working in México almost always provides for curious clients. I told my friend (the owner) she should post a sign outside that says, "Gringa freak working here" if she wants to increase sales. ;)

Many Mexicans resist calling the US "America", because--as they have pointed out to me--the are just as much "America" as the US... being on the North American continent and all. So, the US is often referred to as "el otro lado (the other side)". Think border.
A conversation between me and a teenage boy yesterday:

Him: "So, are you from the other side?"
Me: "Sí."
Him (looking very wise and earnest): "Oh, ok. I'll bet you learned to speak English really well over there."
Me (mouth opening. closing.): "Sí."

today's naptime went like this:

.pumpkin seeds. cauliflower puree. roasted pumpkin & sweet potatoes. carrot puree. zucchini puree. red bell pepper puree.


purees cooling. pumpkin seeds showing off.


fruits of my labor. on the way to the freezer.
just tell yourself that is the Spanish spelling of zucchini.
the cool thing is i'll be remembering my sis's birthday every time i use these.


i ran out of bags at this point. to the fridge with you!


my project resulted in this. lucky me = we are out of water again. haha.

just

Today was a full day. Started off by ignoring the 6:20am alarm, and rolling out around an hour past. Gotta say, knowing that I have to skedaddle outside and around the house in the 30 degree morning air to light the water heater for my shower sure takes away my resolve for rising early. Brr.

Did that. Then, checked Facebook while eating in a quiet, cold house. Bawled while watching this video my bro put up. Realized I had to get a hold of myself and get moving. Aleni was up by then. Got her changed, fed her breakfast. Threw in a load of wash. Then, went and woke up the man of the house so he could hang onto the girlie while I showered.

Showered. Chatted with Rey about plans for the day and then ran out the door for my first day of "work". Yes. You read right. Work. And, yes. It was between quotation marks. I am "working" 2 days a week from 10a-1p for a friend of mine. That's why it's between quotation marks. Since it is only about 6 hrs a week, and it's with a friend--it's more like glorified girl-time. And, since I am "earning" about a dollar an hour, it is definitely not for bringing home the bacon.

I am working at a specialty shop that sells all kinds of beads and things one would need to make jewelry. It's really cool, because not only am I getting to socialize twice a week, I am learning something new and creative. Is God good or what? :)

So, I got home around 2. Passed the car keys off to Rey and scarfed down some lunch. Set to work on getting the house cleaned up--which is slightly difficult with two little angels keeping company. I had planned for a mom's group to meet in my house at 5, so I was working to the clock.

Put some more laundry in to wash. Folded and put away dry laundry. Fed Aleni supper. Got her dressed in some clean clothes (I tell you what. This girl is mean to her clothes. After about 5 minutes, she can have whatever she is wearing irreparably stained). Got Noah changed. Washed dishes. Wiped down surfaces. Set up a "drink station".

Rey got home around 4, which gave me a chance to get things printed off and organized for the mom's group. He left again at 4:30 to pick up cousin Alicia who does child care during the mom's group. They got back exactly at 5.

And, no one came.

I am just trying to decide if I should keep trying this mom group thing, or take a hint...

Oh, well. Good side: The house is nice and clean. And I had a fun evening with Alicia as she kept me company and helped entertain the kids.

The guy that has been making payments to buy our stove off of us came by and made the last payment. Bye bye little stove (we'd bought it before moving, and this house came with its own stove. Cool.)

Rey has been running around like crazy from junkyard to junkyard all afternoon and evening trying to find good parts at good prices for our poor van. Poor van is sitting in our front yard; it's engine is sitting next to it. Yes, the poor girl has been gutted. But, we hope it's for the better!

agua?

A few days ago, our neighborhood was without water since there was a break somewhere in the pipes. Water was turned off on Tuesday morning and turned back on Wednesday around noon. Late afternoon, our water tank was about half full, but that didn't create enough pressure for the water to actually come into the house. That didn't happen until Thursday morning.

I just want to insert here that I still haven't figured out how to do the unshowered look "cutely". You know those people that you can go camping with and after 5 days in the wilderness, they still look cute? That's not me.



Back to the agua situation. So, my darling and oh-so-ingenious husband put a spigot on our water tank (low to the ground so the water didn't need to be pressurized), and at last we had water! If you can imagine what 1 1/2 days of dishes in the sink looked like... well, I forgot to take a picture, so you'll just have to imagine. But, yeah. We were running out of things to eat off of and drink out of.

Dish washing took a little longer and looked like this:


But it was actually kinda fun. It made me think of a simpler time, and how if people who lived all the time without running water saw my way of washing and rinsing... they would probably snicker into their shirtsleeves. I'm sure it was a very inefficient method--but, the dishes got washed. Even if I had to re-wash a bunch since the bucket Rey had filled with water also had been used to put gas into when he was fixing the car the other day. Ooops. So that's what that weird smell was....


We also were able to have one of these guys full of water in the bathroom:

That meant we could flush. Manually. I never knew about that kind of flushing until I came here. Of course, I've dumped mop water and stuff down the toilet and noted that it flushed... But, the first time I came to Mexico as a wee and impressionable lass of 18, I learned of this often used technique. We were at a restaurant chowing down on tacos, when I used up 50% of my Spanish vocab at the time and asked: "Dónde está el baño?" I was taken to the tiniest of rooms at the back of the restaurant, barely enough room to shut the door behind you, and stood in line behind a couple other ladies. When it was my turn, I self-consciously shut the paper-thin door, noting there were about 3 other ladies waiting their turn.

When it time to flush, I realized I had a problem. This toilet had no tank on the bank, hence--no "flusher". I looked around the bathroom several times to see if there was something to remedy the situation, but all there was nothing (I'd even had to bring my own paper). I finally poked my beet red face out the door and pointed at the toilet... How did one say "flush" in Spanish?? I made some kind of hand motions and said "How?" The woman in charge motioned to a huge tank of water just outside the bathroom door. On top was floating a maybe 2-gallon bucket.

I got that I was supposed to fill the bucket up with water and that was supposed to be a miraculous solution. Trying to put on the "I-know-what-I'm-doing-here" face and noting that the wait line was even longer, I went back in with my little bucket. I tossed the water in the toilet (first asking: "Should I throw it in the front or the back?"...so I did half and half). Let me tell ya. Nothing happened. I took a deep breath, put the bucket back in the tank and high-tailed it back to our table. I wanted to say "Sorry" to the people behind me. But, I was already mortified as it was.

Good news: I can now manually flush along with the natives. Haha.

So, that was a free story from the life of Liz.

Back to the actual topic: No water at the Sánchez home.

Bath time went down like this:



Noah loved it. Aleni preferred to enjoy from afar:


So, that's what we do when there's no water around here.

the most annoying part.

I know, I know. After reading that title, you have leaned closer to the screen and started nibbling on a fingernail. That is how much you are dying to know just what I find to be "the most annoying" thing.

The problem is, as soon as I write anything as drastic as "most", then I start double-guessing myself and changing what I was going to say before... I will most likely think of more annoying things as I write or in the middle of the night. Such is the bliss of my personality... haha.

So, as I was saying.

To me, possibly the most annoying part of Rey's "job" for me is the severed communication. We work as church planters, and the closest community Rey goes to is a little less than an hour away. The farthest is 4.5 hours away. And, his cell phone service is pretty much nonexistent as soon as he gets outside of our city. Which means, I usually hear nothing from him until he is about 5 minutes away. And that I can't get a hold of him until then.

It just makes for a long day. And the idea that I would not be able to get a hold of him at all if there were an emergency is even more daunting. So far, thankfully, there have been no emergencies that could not be figured out by me. I have been able to think of someone who might be able to give me a ride or whatever I need. Usually, the desire to communicate arises more from either curiosity, boredom, or the desire to plan.

Often, I just am thinking about Rey and want to see what he's up to. Is everything going well? Tell him I miss his darlin' face, etc, etc. ;)

Other times, I'm wondering if I should make supper? Will he have eaten by the time he gets back?? And--by the way--what time are you getting back? It seems to never fail that the nights I don't have supper ready... Rey arrives road-weary and famished. The nights I make a 3-course meal, he is so stuffed that even looking at food is nauseating.

Sigh. See why it could get annoying?

Today, there's no emergency and I still have leftovers from the good supper I made last night--so my desire to communicate isn't really a need. They are at one of the "far-away villages" today. Have been since 8 this morning. They must still be far away, because when I tried to call, my call was sent to voice mail.

Nah. I just wanted to call to tell him about something Noah said. And that some friends stopped by and chatted for a while. And that we've had a pretty good day, but that we miss him. And, that I just pulled cookies out of the oven, since I know he usually likes that after a long day out. Things like that.

But, that's where we are and what we do. I am learning flexibility and patience. I am un-learning to plan my weeks out months in advance... since I usually learn what Rey is doing on a day-to-day basis (for example: I have no idea if they are going out tomorrow or to where).
Yep. It's the most annoying part.

loss.

A dear friend of mine lost her baby due to a miscarriage about a month ago. These were some thoughts I wrote...

I wish, my friend, that it hadn't happened.
The stabbing pain of loss following
The tender flower of expectancy.

I wish, my friend, that it hadn't happened to you.
You, who always put others first, who
Spread gentle love wherever you go.

I wish, my friend, that loss were not such a solitary road,
Each step taken by you alone,
Every gasping tear, every sad realization.

I wish, my friend, that you would know His hand
Touching your bruised soul, lifting your dark burden,
Wiping your wet face, holding you close.

I wish, my friend, that you would know His peace.
Calm out of the storm, healing from the wunding,
Purpose in the chaos.

I pray, my friend, that you would know His strength.
Holding up your weary hands, repairing your frame,
Replacing these ashes with His beauty.

change is the point.

Rey and I both have had our hard times in life, but we both agree that these last couple of months have been especially pressing, especially tense.

It seems that on all fronts for us right now, there are problems. There are things--be they little or large--that are not the way we'd like for them to be. That are daily in our faces, begging for an angry outburst or a "Why God?" We face questions like, "Are we doing everything wrong? Did we make the wrong choice? What is going on here?"

We ask, "Is this something we are supposed to run through... or away from?"

We are kind of at several crossroads at once, considering several long-term decisions.

And, you know what is great about this time? I am learning so much about me.

You see, I've worked long and hard to become the "me" I am. I consider (considered?) this version of me to be pretty cool. I don't know if growing up in a Christian home can do that to a person, but "it" had happened to me.

I totally rely on Jesus for all that I am, but perhaps--all I am is not all God wants me to be.

I have been thinking a lot about that little thing many call "The School of Life". How the whole point of life, it seems, is the completely change you. As the fire and hammer change a lump of iron into whatever the blacksmith desires.

Even as I write this, it seems somewhat obvious, I mean--hellooo? Have I even read the Bible? Of course I have... as have many of you. But, I am talking about big change. As in, it seems that God creates us with a certain personality, a certain way of seeing things, a certain way of interpreting what happens... and then works in us to mold us into the opposite of that.

Like He wants to take the timid, man-pleasing person--make them strong and worried only about God's opinion.

Like He wants to take the strong-willed, "everythingisblackandwhite" person--and soften them into a person that can listen to and really consider others' opinions.

Like He may possible want to take this no secrets, "neverwanttobeinonespottoolong" person and teach her to guard her words and learn to be content with where she is (among other things!).

I was thinking about the whole "change is the point" concept while driving home from the grocery store the other day. I reflected on how often God reveals His overall plan or view of things through nature. And then I realized. What thing in nature stays the same?? Nothing! Not from seeds, to leaves, to a rippling creek. Everything God has created is constantly changing, constantly becoming more beautiful, more unique.



Verses like the words of Jesus came to mind: "Unless a seed falls into the ground and dies... it cannot bear fruit."

Sadly, I know people that have strong-armed their way through life. Who have let none of the shaping or chipping or pressing that has come upon them in life to change them. Who are just as selfish, unhappy and unfulfilled as they were 20 years ago. There really isn't anything sadder.

So, here I am. Trying to embrace this season of change. Trying to believe that what I have been up until now may not exactly be what God wants me to be from this day forward. Being excited that God is so awesome and so interested in me.

Here's a song that's a-singin' in my mind...

traditions

I am constantly on the look out for "parent techniques" that we can put into place in our family. Or, perhaps I am on the lookout for children that I would like for my children to be like. When I do spot things I like, I then observe what the parents did to encourage that behavior.

For example, a good friend of ours is a mom to 6 children--ranging in ages from around 4 to 15. We were so impressed when we visited their church, because during the prayer ministry time--all of those children went to the front to minister in prayer to whoever came forward with a need. It was so inspiring to see their hearts of genuine love and ministry towards their friends.

Of course, that was obviously encouraged and modeled by momma. Lesson taken to heart.

Some other friends of ours are missionaries in an orphanage on the west coast of Mexico. Their kids are all around 16 and older. What I love about their kids is each of them is completely themselves and encouraged to develop whatever dreams or personalities lies within them. Mom and Dad are pretty traditional, but I noticed the children to be each unique.... and happy. Perhaps they weren't just like mom and dad, perhaps their hair wasn't brushed and their clothing is scruffy--but let me tell you: Those kids love people. They are genuine, stable and easy to be around. They respect and they are happy to interact.

Lesson taken to heart.

Another family, life-long friends of mine, model parenting that is very formative in the early years, and then gives freedom for making choices during adolescence. So often, I would see one of my teenage friends sitting on the couch with mom or dad and hashing out a pending decision with them. The parents' input was usually very minimal, with questions like, "Well, do you think the Bible has anything to say about that?" "What would be pros and cons?" "What affect/consequences might come from choosing to do or not do this?" My friends would sometimes groan--saying that often they just wished mom or dad would say, "Do this"... but, even while saying this, they know why their parents are only guiding decision-making and not dictating it: So they can experience the results of their own choices.

I love that lesson.

I have also been realizing how family traditions are really the soil from which fond family memories spring. Even though when our kids are little we may be feeling like we are just barely keeping hold of our sanity... we must realize that little daily things often are what will later grow into the strong tree of family unity and solidarity.

I remember that my mom would read to us kids almost every lunch time. We reverenced, loved and protected that time. We would do whatever we could to cajole her into reading to us as we ate, and then promise angelic behavior if she'd just read one more chapter. I have no doubt that this decision of hers is pretty much responsible for the avid readers that most of us are.

So, Rey and I wonder: What traditions do we want to establish in our family? Obviously, Aleni and Noah are still pretty young to really "get into" the idea of traditions, but we want to start now, so that it will be something we've "always done".

Really, the idea of "What traditions" for us is better answered by first answering "What kind of people do I want our children to become?"

I want my kids to love God and to really know His love for them. I want them to have a vibrant relationship with Him.

I want my kids to really know how to love people.

I want my kids to be responsible, hard-working and honest.

I want my kids to feel good about who they are and to have the freedom to try out their wings... To step into some of their dreams. To make mistakes, trip and fall, knowing that they won't be judged or mocked.

I want to care more about what is going on on the inside of each of my kids, more than what I see on the outside.

That means we have to model these things. Have these things springing up from our own hearts.

One tradition Rey and I have settled on is one we'd like to do at the end of each year. While many kids are throwing tantrums about not getting the right Barbie or motorized Jeep... we would like for our kids to dig deep and look around at people that might not be getting anything.

We would like them, maybe starting in November, to be on the look-out for someone they can "sponsor". Be it a child, adult or family. Be it taking them a card they made, cookies they helped decorate or a toy... We would like them to decide "who" and "what"--and help to make it happen.

We are really excited to see how this plays out in the years to come!


This year, of course, Rey and I "picked". Rey found a needy family in our neighborhood, and we took them over a meal and some bags of candy one night.

The family lived in a low, rectangular building made of rough, gray cement. The building had maybe 8 single rooms that people rent (kind of like an old motel idea). The doors are metal and the windows are holes cut out of the wall. The woman we "sponsored" had taped a plastic bag across her window.

We could see a candle flickering through it. Hmm. No electricity. Let me tell you, it has been getting cold at nights here-- maybe 25-30 degrees cold. Immediately, I felt bad for the children to be sleeping in the cold that way.

The door opened, and the woman stepped out, a small single room almost completely filled by a bed and a table behind her. Her 3 children, aged maybe 7 through 11 came out also... dressed for sleeping but with the "just scrubbed" look.

As Rey told the woman why were were there, her eyes filled with tears as she thanked us and told us that she is a single mom with no job. Yes, the food would help a lot.

Aleni, Noah, Rey and I stood there in a semi-circle under the stars and laid hands on the family, praying God's blessing and light over them.

We hope to continue developing this relationship--but, one thing I know. This is a good tradition.

Seen on a dirt road in México...

Sorry about the bad quality of the picture. But, I took it through the side van windows as we passed this guy.

Yes. He is going somewhere. With 2 sheep strapped to the back of his motorcycle.

Did I mention they were LIVE sheep??

just whining

I usually feel pretty good when my Mexican friends and neighbors tell me I have adjusted well to Mexican living. And, I usually feel pretty well-adjusted.

However, there are two times I start chafing a bit at the experience.

The first is when we have to do anything dealing with paperwork. Being part of two countries at one time is a tricky game, held together by all kinds of red tape. A lot of the experience has to do with who you deal with in trying to get whatever document you need. You could have a great experience with a really nice, understanding person. Or you could want to run screaming through the city after being made to go in endless circles for no apparent reason.

The other time is when I or my babies are feeling sick.

One thing about "sick" is it tends to make you yearn for certain things--like maybe a certain snack or a long soak in a hot bath. Or, it makes you want those things for your kids.

A major thing is LAUNDRY when the sickies come around. Often, sickness brings with it all kinds of reasons for "soiled" laundry--or just the need for "higher sanitization"... This week finds us with that "need". Each day, I have been washing all bedding... towels... clothes... stuffed animals....toys... all day long and into the night. The tricky part comes with "no dryer".

I generally enjoy not having a dryer and joining in with my fellow Mexicanos in doing our part to save the earth. We have the luxury of mostly sunny weather most of the year, so why not? But, when I am pulling load after load out of the washer, it makes for some interesting creativity in figuring out how to get everything dry on time. Think blankies and bearies. Whew.

Ah, yes! And the times when everything stops because the water tank on the roof emptied from all the washing... and ya gotta wait for it to trickle full again.

So, yeah. There you have it... my moaning for conveniences as I massage my aching back. The "nice" thing about "sickies" is.... Now my house smells like bleach and Fabuloso. It's probably the best time for you to come over and visit, if you're into the clean house thing.

Just excuse my pruney, sandpapery hands.

For the ladies...

Guess what? I was a guest writer on MomLife Today!

Check it out....

try Me in this

Bring all the tithes into the storehouse,
That there may be food in My house,
And try Me now in this,”
Says the LORD of hosts,

If I will not open for you the windows of heaven
And pour out for you such blessing
That there will not be room enough to receive it.
Malachi 3:10

I know talking about money is usually taboo... but, I think that those of you that read my stuff are close enough friends that you'll be "okay" with it.

We are facing a "tight" time financially. It seems that all the bills came at the same time: my visa, the rent and an outrageous electricity bill. We were looking at the month of December and literally wondering how we were going to be able to make it.

We get our support money in once a month. We saw what came in, and saw that it wouldn't really even cover what we owed, let alone have for food and gas.

Then came the issue of the tithe.

Saturday night, we discussed writing an note of "how much we owed God" and give the December's tithe in January. Sunday morning, we decided we should follow the principle of God first, in everything.

And Jesus said to them, “Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
Matthew 22:21

To be able to get groceries for the week, we decided to round up whatever "non-essentials" (even if some of them made me sentimental) we could find and do a garage sale in front of our house. (I've also found that doing a garage sale is one of the best way to "break the ice" with the neighbors = added bonus!)

Do you know what? When we laid our heads down on the pillow, we realized we were blessed. God had caused the sale to go well. He had given us back all of what we had given Him in the morning.

And added one peso more.

Lord-- We have tried You, and we have seen.

why, yes i am! thank you!

You remember that one popular song:

"You're so vaaain
You pro'lly think this blog is aboutchoo
You're so vaaaaiiiinnn!"

So, yes. I guess I am. And I do.

Because, I had to get pictures for my Mexican visa a couple of weeks ago. It went with the same lady Rey and Aleni did... and she was just as picky with me.

The requirements for the shot was one straight-on shot and one profile shot. All hair had to be pulled away from the face. No jewelry. No make-up. No smiling.

Talk about out of my comfort zone for picture-taking. I mean, hello. My grand-babies could be looking at this picture years from now... Also, haven't you read that verse in the Bible:

"Likewise, ye women, adorn thyself with the longest hair possible so as to cover the unseemly parts of your face during picture taking."

Anyhoo. I submit one shot. And, being vain as I am, I only submit the profile shot. Because the other one was skeery.

random weirdness.

At almost all the major intersections of our city, you will be swarmed by people hoping to get a few cents off of you. Guys juggling flaming rods, kids juggling oranges, people selling ice cream, peanuts,toys, whatever. People in wheelchairs or slings asking for help with a medical bill. And, most of all, people jumping on your hood to squirt down your windshield and squeegee it "clean".

I usually just get super annoyed at all the commotion... but, I've actually found it's way easier to have a 2 peso coin ready in your hand to give to whoever is the most persistent, than it is to make a mean face and say, "No, I really mean it--I'm not interested."

So, yesterday I was sitting at the red light, pesos in hand as a teenage guy flung himself over my hood to scrub away on the windshield. Side note: It is rather awkward when you are alone to know where to look at this point. Over him? At you shoes? Anyhoo....

I had grabbed a can of watermelon something to drink on the way out of the store, so I was holding that in the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel. After I gave the kid his money, he leaned his head in the window and said, "Are you pistiando?"

Yes, I left that last word in Spanish, because I had no idea what it was. I assured him I wasn't (how could I be if I didn't even know what it was? haha). "OH!!" He shouted, as he strode off, "I really thought you were pistiando."

Hmmm. Well, thankfully I live with a Spanish to English dictionary (aka my hubby). I asked him what it was, and he said it basically means "Getting drunk."

So, the guy thought I had a can of the good stuff popped open and was slurping it down as I drove through town. It made me wonder what he would've done if I really was drinking a Corona. Told me how dangerous it was? Or asked for his own slurp?

Questions....