you are an artist.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Forest fire
This morning I made pancakes. Sundays are different in Montevideo. When I'm in Montevideo on the weekends I attend a church service at 7 in the evenings so my mornings are beautifully different than what I've grown accustomed to the the States. Saturday night I had promised a pancake breakfast to Greg and so when he woke up at 11 this morning he walked into my doorway and said, “Pancakes?”
Sadly, I couldn’t remember our family recipe so I had to find one online. After a few changes: less salt, more sugar, three dashes of cinnamon, an extra spoonful of vanilla, a touch of oil, I was ready to fry the pancakes.
In the apartment we have a gas stove/oven unit. I very much so prefer gas stoves to electric, so this is a joy for me. However, in relation to gas stoves and food, I have a reputation of burning the first two pancakes, or whatever food I’m preparing. That being said after my first pancake, the apartment looked like those smoke houses that the fire companies brought to the elementary schools. Instead of teaching fire safety and how to properly crawl to the nearest exit, all I wanted to do was make some darn pancakes.
The funny part of this story was when Grandpa came into the kitchen to see what was on fire. There is a fan above the stove to help with such circumstances and it was on the lowest setting. Grandpa promptly turned it on high and mumbled something about más fuerte (stronger). He then proceeded to look at the frying pan and made an hmmm-mmm noise. I laughed out loud and said, “Surely not this one, maybe the next few.”
As expected the first two pancakes looked like they were cooked in a forest fire and then run over by a truck. After turning down the heat and using a dab of butter in the frying pan instead of oil, I was doing fine and the pancakes looked decent. Grandma even called me a good cook. Holla.
By noon, the pancake batter was all used and the pancakes were happily sitting on the table being eaten by Greg. I had invited Grandma to try one and she was standing in the kitchen chatting with Greg and I. I washed all the dishes and then grabbed a plate to test one of the pancakes. There were about 5 more to be eaten and so I told Greg that he could eat as many as he wanted. Grandma pipes up- “Oh no, you can’t eat them. Look at the hour, it’s almost time for lunch.” Greg and I smiled and nodded our agreement. When Grandma left the kitchen to go back to her solitaire game, I laughed and whispered to Greg, “I was 10 years old when I was last told not to eat before a meal.”
Grandma means well and we love her for it.
Sadly, I couldn’t remember our family recipe so I had to find one online. After a few changes: less salt, more sugar, three dashes of cinnamon, an extra spoonful of vanilla, a touch of oil, I was ready to fry the pancakes.
1 1/2 coffee mugs of flour
2 baby spoons of salt
1/2 coffee mug of sugar
1 1/4 coffee mug of milk
1 egg
1/3 of the piece of butter from the refrigerator
2.5 baby spoons of vanilla
2 baby spoons of oil
2 baby spoons of salt
1/2 coffee mug of sugar
1 1/4 coffee mug of milk
1 egg
1/3 of the piece of butter from the refrigerator
2.5 baby spoons of vanilla
2 baby spoons of oil
In the apartment we have a gas stove/oven unit. I very much so prefer gas stoves to electric, so this is a joy for me. However, in relation to gas stoves and food, I have a reputation of burning the first two pancakes, or whatever food I’m preparing. That being said after my first pancake, the apartment looked like those smoke houses that the fire companies brought to the elementary schools. Instead of teaching fire safety and how to properly crawl to the nearest exit, all I wanted to do was make some darn pancakes.
The funny part of this story was when Grandpa came into the kitchen to see what was on fire. There is a fan above the stove to help with such circumstances and it was on the lowest setting. Grandpa promptly turned it on high and mumbled something about más fuerte (stronger). He then proceeded to look at the frying pan and made an hmmm-mmm noise. I laughed out loud and said, “Surely not this one, maybe the next few.”
As expected the first two pancakes looked like they were cooked in a forest fire and then run over by a truck. After turning down the heat and using a dab of butter in the frying pan instead of oil, I was doing fine and the pancakes looked decent. Grandma even called me a good cook. Holla.
By noon, the pancake batter was all used and the pancakes were happily sitting on the table being eaten by Greg. I had invited Grandma to try one and she was standing in the kitchen chatting with Greg and I. I washed all the dishes and then grabbed a plate to test one of the pancakes. There were about 5 more to be eaten and so I told Greg that he could eat as many as he wanted. Grandma pipes up- “Oh no, you can’t eat them. Look at the hour, it’s almost time for lunch.” Greg and I smiled and nodded our agreement. When Grandma left the kitchen to go back to her solitaire game, I laughed and whispered to Greg, “I was 10 years old when I was last told not to eat before a meal.”
Grandma means well and we love her for it.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Easter Break-Semana Santa
This first picture describes our week rather well. We traveled a total of 9 nights and only stayed in hostels 5 of those nights. We spent more hours than I care to count in airplanes, taxis, buses, airports and bus terminals. I liked it.
Ushuaia, Argentina -- The Southernmost City in the World
Tierra del Fuego National Park -- Ushuaia, Argentina
Sea lions.
A day of hiking in Tierra del Fuego is good for the soul.
Iguazú Falls, Argentina
Cristina, Laura, Molly, Martina and I
It was surprisingly lovely and safe-feeling to return to Uruguay.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Recent likes of mine
I like the smell of night.
I like Grandma’s homemade tomato sauce.
I like Coca-cola that is made with real sugar and served in glass bottles.
I like that after each day my feet look like they’ve walked places.
I like (love) Uruguayan yarn, it is soft and inexpensive and all kinds of wonderful.
I like baking without the luxury of measuring utensils.
I like relaxing with Jesus.
I like the blessing of never suffering culture shock when living in Spanish-speaking countries.
I like it when Grandma is in her talkative/hyper moods.
I like public transportation.
I like how the laundry lady always takes her time when I desperately need clean clothing. (not)
I like knitting on buses, street corners, in plazas and parks, and wherever I find patch of sunlight.
I like telling stories that make Grandma laugh.
I like sharing headphones with people.
I like having friends from all over the world.
I like that I’m leaving today to travel to the end of the world (Tierra del Fuego, Argentina).
I like kissing on the cheek to greet friends and strangers alike.
I like how a different side of me emerges in each language.
I like not using textbooks for my classes.
I like the challenge of living as cheaply as I can.
I like when God helps me to see the world through his eyes.
"El fin del mundo" (The end of the world)
I like Grandma’s homemade tomato sauce.
I like Coca-cola that is made with real sugar and served in glass bottles.
I like that after each day my feet look like they’ve walked places.
I like (love) Uruguayan yarn, it is soft and inexpensive and all kinds of wonderful.
I like baking without the luxury of measuring utensils.
I like relaxing with Jesus.
I like the blessing of never suffering culture shock when living in Spanish-speaking countries.
I like it when Grandma is in her talkative/hyper moods.
I like public transportation.
I like how the laundry lady always takes her time when I desperately need clean clothing. (not)
I like knitting on buses, street corners, in plazas and parks, and wherever I find patch of sunlight.
I like telling stories that make Grandma laugh.
I like sharing headphones with people.
I like having friends from all over the world.
I like that I’m leaving today to travel to the end of the world (Tierra del Fuego, Argentina).
I like kissing on the cheek to greet friends and strangers alike.
I like how a different side of me emerges in each language.
I like not using textbooks for my classes.
I like the challenge of living as cheaply as I can.
I like when God helps me to see the world through his eyes.
"El fin del mundo" (The end of the world)
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