AfricanKelli

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Book from Tempe Library — while it is a bit out of date, a couple of the ideas jumped out at me.

Yesterday, listened to this podcast last night and it made me smile, full of hope. Last night, I had a long conversation with my lovely roommate about the law of attraction and living abundantly. Then a friend emailed me this quote this morning, and I couldn’t help but laugh and nod in agreement:

“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, ‘Yes, I’ve got dreams, of course I’ve got dreams.’ Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they’re still there. These are great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line, to hold them up and say, ‘How good or how bad am I?’ That’s where courage comes in.” — Erma Bombeck

Whig rose table runner. I want to learn to appliqué. What a great opportunity!

I had dinner with a friend this week who listened to me complain for a good five minutes about feeling like I’m in a rut. Afterward, he put down his margarita and said, “Jesus. That’s great. I’m glad to see that you are human.”

Huh?

I get the feeling those who know me solely through this blog (and apparently a few friends too) think my life is all pink cupcakes with sprinkles and calorie-free icing. This site is my happy journal — it’s a place to share my creativity and cooking and vent about politics. It certainly isn’t an accurate representation of what happens in my daily life. Point being, no kidding I’m human. I have ruts. I just don’t enjoy complaining, especially when a solution isn’t readily apparent.

Quilt scrap bunny, anyone?

My expectations for life are increasing. I expect to be more challenged this year professionally. I expect to fall in love, madly. I expect to see a new country. I expect to spend wisely and pay off my remaining school debt. I expect to have time to be creative, and spend less time shopping and more time sewing. I expect to spend part of my summer backpacking through the forest. I expect to be published in many ways this year. I expect to spoil those I love and be spoiled in return. I expect to continuing working on my relationship with God. I expect to buy my very first house this year, including a back yard so I can finally get one of these. Or two. {Frida and Diego.} I expect improved leadership in my country and therefore I have expectations of peace internationally.

I expect to be happy, healthy and loved.
~K

Dutch Apple Pie, where the crumbles on top never crumbled. Eh. You win some, you lose some. In this case, you get a sweet slice of pie either way.

On today’s domestic agenda:

Anna, your tunic will be mine.

~K

Shepherd’s pie — a staple in my childhood home.

Roasted broccoli from the Jan/Feb issue of Cooks Illustrated. Best broccoli ever.

Lots of salad to balance out all the chocolate cake.

~K

My goal is to read 40 books in 2008. I’m off to a chaotic start. The latest read was “Blue Clay People” by William Powers. I enjoyed his other book earlier this year and was excited to see my library carried this one. Four out of five bananas, absoloodle.
This book is about Liberia in 1999-2001 when President Charles Taylor was fine-tuning his abilities to see that the rain forest was cleared and the diamond mines emptied. (In all fairness, he did this to feed the diamond and timber hungry markets of the world, very much including my own American community.)The expense was a generation of Liberians — and their next door neighbors in Sierra Leone — who fought brutal wars, many of who survived with wicked drug habits and missing limbs.
Powers excerpts the following, which so accurately sums up my experiences as an expatriate:
“Like most people who go overseas to do development work, I did so expected to find out what it’s like to be poor…That ‘s not what happens. Instead you learn what it’s like to be rich, to be fabulously, incomprehensibly, bloated with wealth.”
— Mike Tidwell, “The Ponds of Kalambayi”

And this point from Powers’ book will remain with me for the rest of my life:
“There is a point called ‘enough.’ It is elusive, but it exists and Chief Wah, and many of Liberia’s simplest people know where it is, even if they slip below it during the hungry season, during the warring season. Enough is food, water, clean air and community. Enough is the rhythm of a talking drum under a moon that speaks to you through its light. Enough is listening to nature rather than dominating it. We in the West must relax and ratchet down to the joyful place called enough; many Liberians need to increase their well-being until we meet there, in a sustainable world.”

One last excerpt:
“I go into each new day looking at every person as a unique being capable of miracles; I look with wonder upon the healthy forests that still remain and draw strength from them; I am conscious of what I consume and try to bring my consumption into harmony with my vision of a just world. I attempt to find joy in living simply so that others (including other species) may simply live. I act as if a sustainable world were possible.”

Learning not to fulfill every need, living in the world of enough. It would be a beautiful thing.

Books in 2008:
1. Whispering in the Giant’s Ear
2. A Thousand Splendid Suns
3. Lipstick Jihad
4. The Island
5. A Year of Pleasures
6. Blue Clay People
7. Where God Was Born — currently reading

~K

My neighbor John was coaxed into cooking dinner this weekend by my roommate. I invited another friend along, as did he. The five of us sat down last night to an Italian feast John had spent all day cooking.
{Sweet man. He started before 8 am and was still working furiously when we arrived at 6 pm.}

You know your friends are trying to impress you when they make polenta, ziti in vodka sauce, chocolate-dipped pistachio cranberry biscotti and bring three bottles of Shiraz. There were only five of us.
(Yes, my pants are a little tight and my head hurts this morning. You must have ESPN.)

For the record, I brought cake. It was yummy. A cup of sour cream added to any chocolate cake mix produces the most divine results. I throw in a dash of cardamom and then sprinkle cinnamon on top when it comes out of the oven.

We ate like Italian kings, making John’s heritage proud. Thank God Alma doesn’t make biscotti regularly. I would be 400 pounds.

~K