french cuisine

I'm about to fly home to Africa after being in America for five months. That means for almost half a year I've...

• stayed in other people's homes.
• not sat at a desk for a normal days' work.
• traveled a lot.
• not cooked a real meal.
• drank gallons of frothy beverages from Starbucks.
• had friends on speed-dial and made frequent use of those buttons.
• did my own laundry.
• strolled through Target whenever I wanted to.

I'm going to miss aspects of each of those when I'm back home. (Yes, even the laundry!) Okay, I may not really miss staying in other people's homes; I am definitely ready for my own space with my own couch.

I think even more than I'll miss my beloved grande non-fat extra-hot chai lattes, I'll miss not cooking. I'm not good at it. I don't like it. And I hate having to plan out meals. But alas, duty calls. And cook I shall.

French toast anyone?

toothpaste, travel mugs, and wedding bells

The only questions I remember were about toothpaste and our kitchen. After we got married, my application for permanent residency in South Africa was expedited. Having a South African husband put me into the fast-track category. But before I'd be granted permanent residency, the government wanted to make sure I wasn't faking our relationship just to stay in the country. They wanted proof that we were really married.

It was like a scene from a movie.

Niel and I were interviewed separately by government officials. They asked us questions that would supposedly help them determine whether or not Niel and I had known each other as long as we said we had.

I was seated across from a large man behind a desk. I was nervous, fidgeting; I felt like I was on The Newlywed Game Show. Things went smoothly until the kind sir asked, "What is your favorite toothpaste?" I started to sweat. Do I answer with what I'd really say or with what I think Niel might say? I mumbled something about my favorite being an American brand that isn't in South Africa. "Just answer the question," he snapped. "Crest...?" I said, with a question mark at the end. He nodded and moved on.

Phew.

I was asked to describe what our kitchen looked like. I'm way more detail-oriented than Niel is, so I wasn't sure how Niel might have answered that question. I gave vague, general details first---the guy's face remained expressionless---and then I started to give more specifics. When I told him that the top of our cabinets were lined with Starbucks travel mugs, he interrupted me and told me that would be enough. I smiled, and wished I could high-five Niel right then and there.

Needless to say, I received my permanent residency a few months later.

And if we were quizzed with the same questions today, I guarantee we'd both still get them right.

phelps phans

Here's my family-friendly highlight from last weekend in DC---my reunion with my long-lost husband after 11 weeks apart: We watched Olympics, a lot of Olympics. Those who know me well know that I get pretty into sports. Now, let me clarify that a bit. I'm not athletic at all, and I'm not a big sports fan. But if I'm going to watch a sport---any sport---then I am going to get into it.

I may not typically go out of my way to watch swimming, but seeing Michael Phelps win so many gold medals and break so many world records had me bouncing on the bed, pumping my fist in the air, and hollering my lungs out. It was a blast.

But the best part was when Niel said, "I'm so glad we won that."

Do you even realize why? He said "we"---the collective "we" that is America. And he's South African.

Yeah, my heart felt the full weight of the significance of that statement. I threw my arms around his neck and told him I loved him even more for saying "we".

So, yes... We are Phelps phans.

sensational reunion

I still can't believe that two weeks ago I met friends I'd never met before. I still can't believe how much I loved every minute of it. I still can't believe how comfortable I felt in an altogether uncomfortable situation. I still can't believe how much I miss my new friends. That weekend, Cathi told Mandy and I that the best advice she received on her wedding day was to take time to consciously absorb what she was experiencing with all five of her senses. I tucked that thought away, like a smooth pebble from the beach, and attempted to do what she'd been challenged to do. I knew I didn't want my heart to forget a thing, and so I consciously paid attention to what my senses were, well, sensing.

Smell The wonderful aroma of Dunkin Donuts coffee reminds me of the sweetness that is Mandy's husband and the joy that comes with sharing a latte with a friend.

Sight I close my eyes and the first picture I see of our reunion weekend is the three of us on the couch, talking and laughing. There was no pressure or obligation to do or to be anything in particular. We couched it for hours, which to me is a sign of a close and strong friendship.

Sound There was such significance in getting to worship together at church on Sunday morning, which was multiplied even more by the sound of Mandy's sweet, strong voice singing to our Father as she led from the stage. What an honor to worship alongside my sisters and friends.

Taste Chicken and dumplings, boiled peanuts, salsa, zucchini bread... But mostly it is the taste of laughter that seems to linger in my mouth. Pure, unadulterated joy that only comes with authenticity and sincerity.

Touch During communion at church, Cathi reached over and grabbed my hand. That touch, both delicate and gripping, told me I am loved, wanted, and valuable.

Our reunion was indeed sensational!

What have been your best five-sense moments recently?

six feet of marblehead beach

Mandy took Cathi and I to her favorite beach. In typical us style, we didn't do much. We strolled; we looked for sea glass and pretty stones; we walked in both silence and laughter; we took flaughter pictures; we got Cathi in the water.

At one point, I called my friends over to me. I asked them to stand close, and with puzzled looks on their faces I angled the camera towards our feet. Suddenly they understood; they smiled and laughed and said what a great idea it was.

I felt the significance of that moment---of our feet, from all over the world, sharing the same space.

Looking at this picture, my heart swells. It holds a lot of meaning to me, in ways I can't even articulate.

I am thankful I'm not alone...