The Perfect Sunday Sandwich

Tonight after ultimate frisbee at the school, I decided I wasn't in the mood for the turkey sandwich I'd planned for us.  So while the kids went to town on that, I chopped up some sausage and onions and sauteed it.  Then I mixed in some jarred sauce and served it on buns with a slice of cheese on top.

It was just too good for words.  Way better than I thought possible for such a fast and easily thrown-together meal.  I actually had to tone down my normally expressive reactions to my food enjoyment because there really wasn't enough for the kids (I mean, they'd already eaten, anyway . . . ).  And it hardly seemed fair to go on and on about it.

I'm sorry to say I didn't take a picture.  I just didn't expect it to be that good!  And I was halfway through and covered with sauce by the time I thought of it.  Definitely going to be a repeat soon--and I'll even give the kids some next time.

Welcome Flooding

The Dominican Republic has been in the worst drought since 1997 (and this one is worse).

It virtually didn't rain all summer, and we've had just a few good rains in the last month.

We had so little rain that our water levels were getting critically low.  And I'll tell you, nothing gets you looking anxiously at every gray cloud (and praying) like knowing that drinking water could soon be a problem.  They were already rationing running water to homes--sadly, it was being restricted especially in poorer neighborhoods.

So it was incredibly exciting to get rain this week.  It rained three out of the last four days.  It felt like love rained down from God.

Owen and I have had to return to our rain tradition.  Because our back patio is unfortunately slanted toward the house, we get flooding in our back two rooms when it rains heavily.  Enormous puddles!  Thankfully, tropical architecture is all about tile, so it's not the disaster it would be in the states.  We just basically have to sweep it out the back door and then off the porch before it flows back in.  With some mopping to finish the job.

We mopped two nights of the last four, dealing with massive amounts of water in our house.  It's been months since that happened.

And sometimes, a little bit of "flooding" feels like an amazing, blessing-from-God kind of problem.

A Bit Macho . . .

One of the hardest parts of latino culture for me is the difference in how men and women are perceived here.  I'm just so American.  And I don't handle well comments or insinuations made about women not being able to do things because they're women.

Abigail started soccer a few weeks ago.  And I discovered last week that the coach is hesitant to give them too rigorous of a schedule (i.e. give them things to do the whole practice) because the girls in the team need to rest a lot.  They've been laying around a lot and taking tons of water breaks.  I've spent two different practices speaking with him about how Abigail does not need to take rests because she's a girl.  The last practice I found out that the girls had to rest while the boys played and then the boys played with the girls (because boys don't need the rest).

I told the coach that as far as he is concerned, Abigail is a boy.

My "Garden"

I don't know if I blogged about it at all years ago in Philly, but much of my "gardening" there was really picking out tons of decorative white rocks that someone at some point decided would be easier than grass (before the grass took over through the rocks).  I spent many, many hours picking rocks out of the soil.  At first, there was as much rock as soil.  But gradually, over the years, I reclaimed the garden from both the rocks and the weeds who thought they owned the place.  I added layers of compost and worked the soil year after year.  And it became a garden.

Now, as it turns out, I've moved into another rock-bed-yard house.  And I'm trying to reclaim the soil from the rocks.  We've put in a good 20 or 30 hours at this point and I have a 1.5 by 4 foot little rectangle of dirt to show for it.  Micah wrote in his school journal something like, "I picked rocks out of the garden this weekend." Which surely must translate to "I have a meaningful and stimulating home life."

I've also started composting again.  I was scared for a while, I'll admit it.  I've seen rats in the empty lots near my house.  One even chewed a hole in an old sock we left to dry on the front porch.  Ew, I know.  It was my sock.  And it wasn't that old, just dirty.  What if I attract rats with my compost?

And it's hot, which is a de-motivator for outdoor work.  Enough said.

But I get so restless sometimes, because so much of my pre-Dominican identity was related to gardening.  And I so wish I could get my hands on more varieties of greens!!!  We have arugula, lettuce, herbs, bok choy (randomly), cabbage, spinach, and napa cabbage.  But only rarely can I find any good sautee-able dark greens other than bok choy.  And I miss them!  And I miss gardening!

So I'm giving it a try.  The compost is in full swing.  We're having to steal leaves from neighbors for the dry materials (Owen actually got some security guards restless getting our last load--he got greedy, do you need to steal five bags from one house?).  And the tiny plot of land is ready.  We plan to expand to a full 4 by 6 garden once we de-rock sufficiently.

And the volunteer guava tree should be big enough to make some fruit in a year or two.

Poco a poco, little by little . . .