Making it ourselves

Being on the mission field you are not always able to find what you want in the stores and if you do it may cost an arm and a leg. So in those cases you either do with out or make it yourself. One of those things for us was peanut butter, we do have it on the island but it cost more than I want to pay at times.  So we will make it ourselves.

First we get some raw peanuts from the market

Than we roast them. You can either do it in a pan over the stove or in the oven. I have done both.

After that we got ourselves an old fashion meat grinder and would crank the peanuts through that ten or fifteen times.

This is how it looks after a few times through. It it a process and normally afterwards I would not want to eat peanut butter for a while.

Today my sister-in-law, Leah, and I got together to make a batch. We had spent a good hour or two working away at it when my mother-in-law comes breezing in (she just came back from town) and after chatting about this and that she was heading out the door and she says we should try the food processor (just got that a month ago). I was like “nah, might break it” she disagreed and was gone.

I took a look at Leah sweating over the crank and thought “ah what the heck” through some peanuts in the machine and lo and behold this happened.

Perfectly smooth.

I will never go back to that sorry old meat grinder again. Thank you Lord for technology!

Hats off!

Only hands

This is Ni Ni, my middle child. She is three years old

She thought she could fly.

I know this because for Christmas we got her a Tinker Bell outfit with wings and all. She was so happy, she put it on and ran off. She returned shortly and was upset. She says to me ” I can’t fwy ” and begin to cry. I tried to explain how man was not made to fly like birds but that we can fly in planes. She was still upset and seemed to think she should be able to fly. Just a few days ago she jumps off a five foot ledge trying to ” fwy “. She comes (thank the Lord injury free) to me crying that she could not fly and her reasoning was she has no wings, only hands.  She has now come to the realization that she can not fly. I am saved from the worry of her jumping off of high places but am saddened at the loss of her innocence as the world around her becomes more of a reality. No we can’t fly

The Island

I live on a Caribbean island. Yes the luxurious warm salty waves, sand, palm trees waving in the air, coconuts to spare. Sounds dreamy until you arrive that is. You are hit with a wall of heat, packed full of humidity, cockroaches in your bedroom and no matter how many you kill they keep making an appearance. Yes this is my island. I always wonder how I got here, I never planned it. My dream was Russia, the motherland, and I did go there twice, but for some reason I am here. My favorite thing about living here is probably the beauty and for that I am Thankful.