Peach Pie

Yesterday was an important day! Following in the traditions of the women before me, on both sides of my family, I made my first fruit pie. I've enjoyed many a pie before, but yesterday, with Momma's supervision, I made one myself!

Dad returned this morning from Moz, and we saved the first piece for him! I might not win a pie competition like my grandmother, but it tasted pretty good! :)

Just another pretty street...

There is something incredible about blending functionality with beauty. When on the vespa tour in rome, which I mentioned in my last post, our guide Valentino showed us a beautiful neighborhood of Rome. He told us that this was socialized housing. It was gorgeous. Homes were unique, well-built, beautiful. He told us that this came about during a period when politicians realized that residents would take better care of something that was beautiful, even if they didn't own it. It also sends a message that everyone deserves a clean, safe, and even beautiful place to live. 

I love that message. I think of it when I'm walking around cities now. In so many of our cities, the economic status of the neighborhood can be inferred from the exterior of the homes and the condition of the streets. There is a supposition that renters will damage a property and owners will improve it. Why is this?  I'm a renter, with no desire to buy an apartment or a house at this point in my life. But I have a desire to make my living space as beautiful as possible, in the same way that any home owner might!

Well, that was a bit of a tangent! I started thinking about all this on Sunday as I walked around the Old City of Philadelphia. Trees shade beautiful brick homes and small side streets. I love this part of the city, but I also know just by looking at the neighborhood that I can't afford to live there. It prompted the above thoughts, making me wonder why we think a higher income bracket should correlate with the beauty of one's home. 

This is just one pretty little street in Old City. I loved the raised brick flowerbeds on either side of the doorway and the contrast of the blue shutters and door with the red brick. As I walked by another alleyway, my senses were suddenly overwhelmed with the sweet smell of honeysuckle. (It was certainly one of the typical smells I have learned to associated with urban side-streets!) Still, it was a wonderful reminder to savor the moments of beauty that our Creator slips into our days. 

Life in Transition, yet again.

Life, always interesting, has gotten a bit hectic lately.  I am so thankful that I only registered for one class this term.  In addition to Linguistics, which has been a very challenging class, I'm going to be starting work soon.  Thank you very much to those of you who have been praying for me as I've made a variety of decisions about work!

I have just received my final clearance for my teaching job.  I will take my collection of forms and clearances into the main office on Tuesday and I start teaching a class of adults on April 23.  This job will only be eight hours a week.  To supplement those hours, I'm going to be working at a local retirement village, as a part time home health aide.  I have a six hour orientation on Monday for that position.

On May 1, I'll have a new roommate moving into my flat.  Martha and I roomed together in university, and nine years later, we are going to try this again!

As I sit at my kitchen table, covered in a pretty yellow and orange striped tablecloth, I feel so excited.  Spring is here, the sunshine is lovely, and I'm making a home here.  I've been so encouraged by the friends I've been reconnecting with and the opportunities before me.  I love being able to pop over to my sister's house and say hi for a few minutes.  I finally feel as though I'm making some connections at church as well.  Like the bits of green popping up everywhere, this is a time for me to grow.  

Birthday Blessings

Monday didn't go quite as I planned, but it ended wonderfully.  Snow started falling at about two in the afternoon.  Val and I had planned to go to campus to hear a guest lecturer, but I was exhausted.  Val told me I should lie down and take it easy.  When I woke from a nap, it was 7 p.m. and the snow was still falling.  Rather than venture out, we stayed in and made a vegetarian version of my mother's chicken gravy (so...gravy and peas and carrots) and baking powder biscuits.  It was a perfect warming meal for a beautiful evening.  

It felt like a wonderful lead-in to my twenty ninth birthday.

My parents and I were able to skype at 8, which was a great way to start my day.  The rest of my day was fairly un-birthdayish, as I worked on lesson preparations and paperwork for my new job.  The snow started melting and had dissipated by the time I left for an afternoon at Barnes and Noble with Val.  She spoiled me with a birthday latte and treat at the cafe.  

I left Val at 5:30 to meet my sister for a surprise birthday outing.  Val was going to a lecture on campus and was then going back to her parents' home.  I got home and had a surprise waiting at my front door!

My parents arranged for a beautiful potted gerbana daisy to be delivered today. I can't wait for spring!  I'm looking forward to creating a container garden on my little balcony and this little plant can be my first!  Thanks, Mom and Dad!

My sister arrived and gave me a wonderful spa treat basket, and included the hugest mug I have ever seen!  :) I'm drinking my Twinings of London Orange Cinnamon and Spice tea out of it right now.  

Joy and I then headed off to a "undisclosed" location for dinner.  She took me to the Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant.  We were there a few minutes before Val walked in the door!  Sneaky girls!  Then another good friend, Marleen, joined us as well!  My sweet sister planned a wonderful girls dinner out.  Several girls couldn't make it but we four had a great dinner.  We shared a cheese fondue, followed by a chocolate fondue for dessert. 

It has been a special day.  I'm so thankful for the amazing people in my life and especially in my family!

Resettlement

Three weeks ago, I was enjoying 95 degree weather and the warmth of Mozambican culture.  I've traded palm trees for pine.  Pennsylvania has experienced its first snow and the weather outside, while not frightful, is definitely chilly.

I love airplanes and flying but I wonder if they have hindered our appreciation for the transition between one place to another.  I've never crossed the Atlantic by any means other than an airplane.

It is a bit surreal.  In January, I would have said, "I live in London."  On the last day of January, I boarded a plane and seven hours later, I was in the USA and I had officially moved.  The trip from Moz took a full day of travel.  The transition is more startling.  It only took a day to go from one place where clean water is scarce to another place where we are focused on buying excess material goods with our excess income.  

A longer journey would not change the differences between locales, but perhaps the time to reflect would change the traveler.   

Planes come equipped with a personalized entertainment system for each seat.  (As a child, I can remember having a TV screen for the entire cabin.  If you didn't like the movie, you listened to music or slept.)  You might watch movies for the duration of a 19 hour flight from South Africa to the USA.  An ocean liner today can cross the Atlantic in a week.  When Henry Hudson crossed from Amsterdam to New York (in 1609), the crossing took two months.  

Imagine a relocation journey taking two months.  Days of ocean and waves and no land in sight.  No entertainment system.  No wi-fi.  No seclusion except in thought.  As an introspective person, I love the idea of having days to just look at the waves and the clouds and simply ponder.  Time to consider where I've been and wonder where I am going.  Time to write in my journal until I run out of words or pages.  

I cannot explain my thankfulness that this past year has included time to consider my options.  Had I needed to go from my last job, which finished in May, to looking for another job immediately, I would have been incredibly frazzled.  Instead, through generosity and grace, I was able to take the time necessary to consider my next steps.  I've been back in Pennsylvania for three weeks.  In those three weeks, I've purchased a vehicle, gotten car insurance (for the first time on my own!), made decisions about where I will live, applied to academic programs, started job applications, took my computer to be fixed (which isn't possible but I am going to attempt some data recovery), and am considering my options in the areas of phones, computers, and more practical things like mattresses and winter coats.  While it is sometimes overwhelming to make all of these decisions, it is possible because I have had time to consider my options, needs, and my Provider.  

The title for this blog, The View from a Thousand Hills, comes from Psalm 50:10.  The Lord says, "For all the animals of the forest are mine, and I own the cattle on a thousand hills."  This verse reminds me that my future is in good hands, and those hands are not my own.  

On the Road

I think I've started a post about ten times and each time, I've just not finished it.  There are a number of reasons, lack of time, lack of means (I knocked my laptop to the the tile floor by accident while still in Mozambique and it is not turning on!) and a few other things, but either way, it's time to start writing again!

I can hardly believe that two weeks ago today, I was attending my last church service in Moz.  Various church people had presents for me and presented them to me in front of the entire congregation.  By the time they were finished, I had tears streaming down my face.  These are good people.  I have been blessed to get to know them. 

I left Moz on the following Monday.  The trip from Beira to Joburg to DC took a full 24 hours, plus a seven hour time change.  Normally, I have no problems sleeping on planes, but this 18 hour flight, sleep eluded me.  There was a surprisingly bad selection of films and a rather negative woman in the seat behind me (who didn't mind sharing her opinions rather loudly with her husband and those of us in a ten seat radius.)  Aside from that, the flight was uneventful.  I like adventures, but in terms of plane rides, uneventful is a good quality!  

It was wonderful to see family once back in PA.  I swapped my swim suits and sandals for sweaters and slippers, but the fall leaves are gorgeous and I love sitting by a fire on a chilly evening.  It doesn't hurt that there is usually a little Jack Russell Terrier who is happy to sit with me.

35 Years Ago...

We celebrated Mom and Dad's 35th wedding anniversary today with dinner at a local restaurant.  There were only a few other patrons, and all were on the first floor.  We asked to sit on the second floor, which has an outdoor seating area as well.  It was a windy night, so it did get a little chilly but it was such a gorgeous night.  

The above picture is the view down the street from our rooftop dinner.  It was a very pretty location to spend such a wonderful night.  Our celebratory dinner was "peixe e batatas fritas" (Fish and fries) for Mom and I and "camarão e batatas fritas" (Shrimp and fries) for Dad.  We certainly wish the rest of the family could have been with us!  

Day 10

It took guesswork to start this post.  Lately, when I use something google related, it is all in Portuguese.  That makes things rather fun.

Well, I'm well into my second week here.  It feels like I've been here longer, but not in a bad way.  The time has been full, but full in an African way, not an American way.  If you've lived in Africa, you know the difference I mean.  It hasn't been a booked scheduled of running here and there, but it has been busy nonetheless.  Portuguese lessons haven't gone as I planned.  Mom and Dad have been faithful, but I've already missed two lessons.

I arrived in Mozambique pretty tired, and when jet lag, incredibly high pollen and dust counts, migraines, and two mosquito bites in an uncommon time for mosquitoes, are all added in, I feel pretty drained.  I'm not quite sure what is wrong with me, but it's not awful and Mom is a great nurse.  I'll be fine in no time.

I still managed to get to quite a few things with Mom and Dad.  I've been on fruit market expeditions, sewing classes, lectures, spare tire hunting, grocery shopping, and by now...I still feel lost in this city.  It is rather confusing.  I'm impressed that my parents have learned their way around without knowing most street names!  I had to laugh when they were speaking with another American here, asking Melanie where Mom could buy cloth for her sewing class.  The directions were entirely landmark based, including a "blue shop," Melanie's office, and the grocery store.  The funniest part was when they realized that there was more than one "blue shop" in the city!  Most buildings here are painted a faded yellow, so a blue shopfront does stand out.

  



Everyone has been really sweet.  Many people I have met have spoken a bit of English and most are keen to learn more.  A conversation doesn't get very far, and I often find myself wishing I could learn Portuguese more quickly.      I have found that I can follow a slow conversation in Portuguese and get the gist of it, thanks to the Spanish I know.  However, Portuguese pronunciation is very different.  I struggle with the sounds of the words more than remembering the vocabulary.  My parents have taken to introducing me in Portuguese.  I rather like being called Esperança.  Most faces light up when they hear me being introduced with a Portuguese name.

There are so many lovely people here.  I've had fun seeing the little kids, mesmerized by these strange looking people, sneak up to Mom and I.  Mom said she had one little girl try to rub her skin to see if the paleness was real. The women have been very friendly as well.  We've made conversation as best we can, between various bits of English and Portuguese.

It is winter now.  The temperatures have been in the 60s and 70s.  The hot water in our shower has to be used with caution, because it boils in the water tank during the day.  With a winter this mild, this is a growing season. Mango trees, among others, are in blossom.  Fresh fruit is easy to come by.  Mom and I were at the market the other day and we saw pawpaws the size of my head.  We've had pineapple, watermelon, and avocado aplenty.

And it's Ramadan now.  There are about four mosques in this city, one not too far away.  If the windows are open, we can hear the call to prayer.

I love how life goes on around everyone's personal lives.  Last week, Dad needed to get a spare tire for their vehicle.  The other tire had been punctured a while back on a trip in the bush.  We went to several different places before finding a place with better quality for at least the same price as the poor quality ones.  Dad needed to bring the vehicle in before lunch because in the afternoon, the manager would be at the mosque.  And Dad needed to bring the vehicle in before or after our language lesson.  And so, a time was worked out that would accommodate both schedules.  No appointment formally scheduled, no contact details exchanged, nothing written down.

We have several pets at the moment.  Truvia is a tiny little gecko who is migrating through the house.  He earned his name because he is smaller than a packet of truvia sweetener.  He does have a much larger brother (as yet unnamed) who lives in the ceiling and sometimes creeps down through the tiles to say hello.  There are a few stray cats who wander through the yard and enjoy taking a nap on the chairs on the patio.  And of course, we have at least one big, flat spider.  I don't know what they are called (I attempted to ask Mr. Google for their name, but a search resulted with WAY too many pictures of spiders for me to sort through), but they live on the walls for the most part and eat mosquitoes.  Mom always refused to remove them from my bedroom as a child, reminding me that they would eat the mosquitoes and for that reason, they should be considered friends.

2012 is just around the bend...

Yesterday was a very fun day.  To be honest, I didn't even leave the house.  A friend of Joanne's (and now also one of mine) came over and brought her two children with her.  We spent a few hours just chatting and entertaining the kids and being entertained by the kids.  We engaged the help of Zoe and David in taking ornaments off the tree.  This idea was not inspired.  David found it more fun to take ornaments back out of the box and dump them on the floor.  Zoe wanted to sweep up every pine needle that fell, which was an impossible task.  

After they made their departure, Joanne and I made the gigantic effort of taking out our tree.  Joanne is now rethinking the beauty of having a cut Christmas tree.  By the time we had the tree out of the house, I think over half of the needles were on our carpet!  

We had to sweep the carpet well before we could even attempt to vacuum!  I maintain that a real tree was worth it.  They are so pretty.  I only wish we could have gotten a live tree to replant in the garden.  

After that rather prickly endeavor, we cleaned up the house and eventually settled down to watch a film.  Part way through the film, Joanne mentioned that our friend (who had stayed over Christmas eve) had left some pie crust dough in the fridge and told us to use it.  (She didn't need it for the peach pie she made for Christmas dinner.)  We  starting thinking of cinnamon buns.  Mmmm... 

So we went to the kitchen and I started rolling out the dough.  We quickly realized that this dough did not look good.  I'm not sure what the problem was, but it did not look right to either of us.  But I remembered that I had some puff pastry in the freezer left over from one of my previous baking experiments.  So, we binned the dodgy dough and got out the puff pasty.  After defrosting it in the microwave, I unrolled it, only to find out that I had a lot less than I had remembered!  By this point, we were quite giggly at our unsuccessful efforts.  Joanne looked up a recipe and we then made the dough from scratch, also using the remainder of the puff pastry.  

Once mixed, I rolled out the dough and Josie spread a lovely concoction of brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter over the dough.  We rolled the dough and then sliced it.  After a brief ten minutes in the over, our kitchen smelled lovely.

Once cooled from the oven, Josie made me giggle by saying, "Come, let's go ice our buns."  I couldn't stop laughing and advised her not to say that particularly odd sounding phrase again. :)  But we mixed up some icing sugar and check out the result:

I think our efforts with the dough were rewarded.  Oh, they are yummy.  I was amazed at how easy they were to make too.  It is definitely a recipe to save!  We will probably be enjoying some tonight as part of our New Year celebration.

Neighbors have already begun their celebratory fireworks.  I was chatting online to a friend in China, who is already in 2012.  Time is a funny idea.  It's a bit strange to think that now I'm exactly one month away from leaving London and moving back to Pennsylvania.  As I've thought about the future year, I keep thinking of this song from Disney's Pocahontas (A flash from my childhood when my sister and I could sing almost any Disney song word for word).  Pocahontas is in her canoe and sings:

What I love most about rivers is

You can't step in the same river twice

The water's always changing, always flowing

But people, I guess, can't live like that

We all must pay a price

To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing

What's around the river bend

Waiting just around the river bend

This coming year has a lot of unknowns but most of the time, that doesn't bother me.  I have a sense of anticipation about what is just around the river bend. Sometimes it bothers me and I just want to know!  But at some point, we go around the corner and we see.  And then there is another river bend up ahead, holding more unknowns.

This is my 270th blog post.  I know that doesn't seem like much for most bloggers, but it represents a lot of writing and rambling on my part, a lot of reading on your part, and a lot of memories.  We shall see what the next year holds.  I'll keep posting and I hope you'll keep reading.  For now, Happy New Year!  

Dinner Party

Last night was one of those special nights that warms the heart.  Laura and I both invited a friend over for dinner and we had a lovely little all girls dinner party.  I cooked, choosing to make it a Tex Mex night, bringing a little of North American culture to London.  I cleaned our newly rearranged lounge, did some tidying in the garden, grocery shopped, baked, cooked, and before long, we had a feast.

We had hard and soft shell tacos, veggie mince and real mince for the carnivores, baby spinach leaves and lettuce, shredded cheese, sour cream, salsa, cornbread muffins, black beans, onions...the only thing I couldn't find were tortilla chips for dipping in the salsa.  To finish the evening, I made brownies.  Rather than the American ice cream, we topped it off with single cream.

O surprised me by bringing a dessert as well.  She tends to do that.  She went to Paul.  

Paul is a very clever man.

O said in her delightful French accent, "It is Forêt Noire."    Oh, well, looks fantastic even if we don't know what it is!  After dinner, I asked O what it was called once more.  "Forêt Noire."  "And that means...."  "Well noire is black and forêt...it means...lots of trees..."  Suddenly, lightbulbs went on.  "Oh, black forest cake!"  Oh, it was good!

All in all, it was a great night.  A dinner which turned out a well, two great desserts, and a nice movie with friends.  As I walked O to the station, I was really touched that she kept repeating, "Your home is so welcoming." That is an answer to my prayers.  I always want my home to be a place where people feel welcome to come in, share a meal, and unwind from a stressful week.  

Changed

I must say, England will have left her mark on me.  There are things I've come to love about this place, although the ever changing weather isn't one of them.  However, last night, as I lay curled in bed, trying to sleep but with a headache that made it impossible to sleep, I started to think of the things I have learned to appreciate.

1.  Cornish Pasties-a pastry filled with some delicious concoction.  My favorite is broccoli and cheese, although I do like others as well.


2.  Hot Water Bottles-wonderful.  On a cold night, it's so nice to wrap yourself around a hot water bottle or with a headache, as I did last night, to rest it behind your neck.  I have a soft fleece cover for my hot water bottle and believe me, it gets used a lot!

3.  Lemsips-a powdered lemon drink with paracetamol.  You add hot water to it and it is a drink as well as your medicine for a cold, sinus pain, or some sort of flu.  They actually taste good!

4.  Hot drinks-Oh yes.  I realized the other day while talking with my sister, I think I drink at least five hot drinks a day here.  One cup of coffee, sometimes two, and the rest are tea.  Rooibos (an herbal tea), a fruity herbal tea, or green tea...I'm still not a fan of black tea and personally I think Earl Gray is sludge in a cup, but I do like my herbal teas.  I think I'm truly adapting because I've noticed a certain pattern: I come home, I set down my handbag, and I walk straight to the kitchen to boil the kettle.  Once the tea is made, I can sit down, breathe deeply, and drink my tea to settle in to being home.

Which brings me to the next thing...
5.  Electric Kettles!  I love 'em and use it every day, several times a day!  (Three earlier "likes" all relate back to this one!)

6.  Cockney Rhyming-tthis particular slang is really entertaining and I don't quite get it.  However, my housemate is teaching me a few phrases here and there.  For instance, "Get your daisy roots" would mean "Get your boots."  "Up the apple and pears" would mean "Up the stairs."  And for you gents, "Here comes me trouble and strife," would mean "Here comes my wife!"

Actually, there are a lot of phrases that the British use that I have come to appreciate.  "Everything's gone pear-shaped," (meaning, it went terribly wrong) is one that I've adopted to use from time to time.  Regardless, three years here has had an affect on me.  It makes me think of Thomas Wolfe's famous words, "You can't go home again."  Everywhere we travel changes us and we can never be the same, nor does "home" remain constant while we are gone.  I think we can consider that with sadness and regret or with excitement and anticipation.  I prefer excitement and anticipation!

Sunday Bread

Well, I finally got around to making bread entirely by hand.  I made a Swiss bread called zopf, also known as Sunday Bread.  It's a very simple recipe, just flour, butter, salt, yeast, milk, and honey.  Once it's all mixed up, it takes about two hours to raise.  

Then,  after about ten minutes of kneading the dough, you separate it into three sections and roll them out.

The three strands are then braided and coated with egg yolk.  I had extra dough, so I made little knots of dough as well.

Bake for 40 minutes.

And enjoy!

It was a lot easier than I expected and quite tasty!

Roz bel Laban

Last night, I had that nagging feeling of being hungry for something, but not quite sure what I was hungry for....I finally decided it was roz bel laban, literally "rice with milk" or rice pudding, which was a frequent dessert of mine while living in Cairo for a semester.  As is often the case, I had not made it myself and wasn't sure it would turn out, but it did :)  

If you want to try it, here's a recipe.  Nice and easy :)

Roz Bel Laban ( Rice Pudding)

Ingredients: 

1/2 cup white rice


1 cups water


1 1/2 cups milk


1/2 cup sugar (adjust to desired sweetness)


1 1/2 t orange blossom water (I just use vanilla in place of the orange blossom water)

Rinse the rice and place it in a saucepan with water.

Cover and simmer over medium heat for 15-20 minutes.

Add milk, stirring constantly.

When it begins to thicken, add sugar and orange blossom water.

Continue stirring constantly until rice is soft or well done.

Remove from heat and pour into individual bowls.

Cool and serve.  (I love to sprinkle cinnamon on top just before serving)

Enjoy :)

Memories with a cup of coffee

I love Starbucks.  Friends and acquaintances give me a rough time of it, citing a litany of predictable reasons of high prices, snobbery, politics, and corporations. But I enjoy it.  One benefit of a world wide company is the consistency it offers.  Right now, I’m sitting in a Starbucks in Philadelphia, sipping my blissfully sweet, hot caramel latte.  The slogan on the door advertises “Take comfort in rituals.”  And that’s exactly what I’m doing.  Starbucks as become part of my ritual. 

The first time I was in a Starbucks?  Beirut, Lebanon.  I didn’t even drink coffee at that point, but November in Beirut was rainy and wet and I warmed up each night with a hot chocolate from Starbucks.  It made for a great supper with a cheese filled crepe from a street vender. 

My second regular encounter with Starbucks?  Airports.  London, Frankfurt, Los Angeles, Johannesburg, Seattle, Chicago, and Bangkok…You name it, and it was Starbucks. 

I moved onto Colorado for a training program.  On the way to church on cold mornings, guess where my friends and I stopped?  Yep, Starbucks.  Caramel Apple Cider, nice and hot.  It warmed me up and woke me up.

Next location I lived: Beijing.  By this point I drank some coffee, but also lots of green tea and hot chai.  I was in China, after all. 

After a month back at my childhood home in Africa, far away from any coffee shops offering free Wi-Fi, my sister met me at baggage claim at Dulles with a hot caramel latte.  I have a very good sister. 

Now I live in London.  I read once that when you stand on Oxford Street in Central London, there are 155 Starbucks coffee shops within 5 miles of you.  155.  (No, I have not been to them all!)  My friends in London know that if we meet for coffee, I will likely suggest a Starbucks.  It might be on Portobello Road, Notting Hill, Oxford Street, High Street Kensington, or West Hampstead, but it still offers my sweet Caramel Latte.

I’ve also had Starbucks in the Louvre in Paris, ordered it as Esperanza in Madrid, and if I ever it make to my dream cities of Prague, Istanbul, and Venice, then yes, I’ll probably stop at a Starbucks at least once.  

I enjoy the small little coffee shops as well.  I patronize them quite frequently due to my constant chill in cold English winters or damp English springs.   But that doesn’t stop from me from enjoying Starbucks.  I live my life with my family on three continents, my friends on six continents, my belongings mostly packed away in storage, and my memories are very dear to me.  Stepping into a Starbucks in Philadelphia can remind me of those rainy nights on Hamra Street in Beirut or Thanksgiving in Madrid.  I feel at home when I sit down with my laptop, journal, or book.  Those memories are precious to me.  Perhaps I enjoy them as much as the coffee I sip.  But regardless, I’m at Starbucks.  

Rain, Rain...

London drizzle is back...I'm not envious of the snow that the USA is enjoying, but the drizzle isn't so much fun either!  It has me missing the dry African heat....

I was reminiscing with a friend who also grew up in Africa about home.  The heat.  The passionate colours of the sunsets.  The beauty contrasted with the harsh reality of life.  C. Emily Dibb's poem came to mind.  

When you've acquired a taste for dust,

The scent of our first rain,

You're hooked for life on Africa

And you'll not be right again

Till you watch the setting moon

And hear the jackal's bark

And know that they're around you,

Waiting in the dark.

When you long to see the elephants,

Or to hear the coucal's song,

When the moonrise sets your blood on fire,

You've been away too long.

It's time to cut the traces loose

And let your heart go free

Beyond the far horizon,

Where your spirit yearns to be.


C. Emily Dibb

I think I'll always love Africa.

The big move :-)

Sigh.  It's June, and I'm not sure what happened to May.  Part of the busyness was because I was looking for a new house!  Through God's grace and the connections of friends, I found a good place in the house pictured below.  I moved in on June 1.  I'm on the second floor, and I think I'll enjoy living here.  My two housemates are both older, which contributes to our house being quiet.  Everyone keeps to themselves other than some chats in the kitchen.  By the way, "our" house is only the left side of the house (when facing the house from the street).  

above: my house from the street

below: the view when you first enter the house.  To the right is a sitting room/dining room and the stairs go up to the three bedrooms and bathroom.

The kitchen

The back yard: It's quite a treat to have both a front yard and back yard!  It seems rare here in London.

So, there's a little view of my new home.  As you may have guessed, its a bit further out from the centre of London, but I really appreciate that.  This bush baby needs some space!  There is a huge, beautiful park about ten minutes walk away, and in the opposite direction, its about 10 minutes to the tube station and grocery stores, pharmacy, restaurants, etc.  It lets me have my space and yet I can to the centre of London without too much effort!