It's Time

Time to blog again. I was going to say, "Time to blog consistently again," but it'd be difficult to return to what never was.
We'll see what happens.
First off, before getting into all the juicy domestic activity details, I need to make a confession. Barefoot in the Kitchen is a somewhat misleading title for this time of year. Don't worry; I stay completely committed to the value of living without shoes. Just within reason. It's below freezing outside, and my tootsies get chilled walking around that linoleum floor.
Introducing, for a limited time only, Moccasin-shod in the Kitchen.

That's right. I wear 70's moccasin-slippers, spandex, and my Congolese-fabric apron to cook. I'm not here to make fashion statements. At least not any good ones.

Just Kidding

So you know that part where I said I would be posting my articles from my time here in Nairobi? I forgot about copyright and such. So...just pretend they're on here.

A Quiet Sunday Afternoon

For having been here in Nairobi only a little longer than a week, I've had a delightful range of pleasant activities. Not only have I spent more time sitting outside by myself in gazebos and under tropical flowering trees than I'm accustomed to, but I've enjoyed an immense amount of good company and additional job titles. So far, I've been some form of child control (although only minimally, considering the 2-year-old in question screams "No no no!" nearly every time we're in the same room--which is often, considering I'm living with her), grocery procurer and deliverer, officially commissioned overnight bodyguard, personal chef for from 3-19 eaters, proofreader, ESL teacher accompanist, kindergarten aide, and Kiswahili tutor, to name a few.
I've actually even been doing what I came for, which is turning out to be even more enjoyable than I anticipated. There is just nothing wrong with spending my days meeting people dedicated to God's work and hearing their stories face-to-face. Then I get to sit out on the lawn in shorts in late October, drinking chai and finagling the jumble of my interviewed information into articulate articles. What a blessing to be able to help share stories of God's work! It's more than just the hot coffee that burns my heart as I interact and write.
Please pray with me that I would be able to adequately express the heart of the people I am honored to meet, and to help spark others into fire for God's mission as they read my words. That I would be able to be a legitimate encouragement to the long-term workers here in the small ways that I am able. That whatever is going on in my stomach would take a chill pill. That I would survive without my husband for 2 1/2 more weeks. That I would be able to meet up with my contacts from up North. That Elise would finally stop screaming at me.

Sock-footed in the Airplane

Here I sit, at the time I'm writing this, eyes stinging from saying go away to sleepiness, throat constricting from saying goodbye to my husband, and heart pounding from saying habari to this month of Kenya. Great. It hasn’t even been 12 hours yet since I left Kansas.

And so it begins! I realize that 1) I haven’t blogged in “some time”  2) my next posts will have nothing to do with house-wifery  and 3) I’m not sure throwing in extra writing is my best idea since that’s literally my to-do list for the next 3½ weeks. But I think I’m ready. Ready to see what it will be like and give it a shot, at any rate. My fingers were itching to get started typing and my brain was dictating what I could say on here anyway.

To give a little more background as to what I’m referring: EMM has asked me to come to visit Nairobi, in order to do some researching, interviewing, writing, picture-snapping. How legit is that? That’s right, I’m officially a photojournalist. At least, that’s what we’ll call it. Basically my dream job, to travel, write, and take pictures. This isn’t really a job, but that’s a triviality. I feel like God essentially dumped this opportunity in my lap, since in His father-heart He knew I would need Kenya again before too long.

I have been so blessed in how He has not only worked out the details for this trip, but also in people’s continued support of my passion and the privilege to stay involved and connected in His work in Africa.

God provided me with two great jobs this summer, as a barista and house-cleaner, that have saved me up enough money to pay for this month. They also both recognized the priority and importance of this time to me and are allowing me to flit away from work yet jump right back in when I return.

During my time in Nairobi, I’m planning to obviously get a lot of articles written, but also to meet up with a few of “my people” from the desert, spend quality time with some of my best friends who just moved to the guest house, and eat lots of mangos. I pray that through this experience God will just continue opening doors for my Kenyan heart to stay intentionally connected to both the people I love there and the people I love here. I’m thrilled that you care enough to read my ramblings here.

It has brought to my attention that I haven't posted recently. This could be true.
Apparently the act of being barefoot in the kitchen takes enough time that I don't have so much extra left to blog about it. Perhaps I should try wearing shoes and see if that makes me more efficient?
It's too bad my brain doesn't have a link to my blogspot (when I want it to...), because I really have crafted some epic posts in my head; alas and alack, they are lost in the Netherlands forever. I'm not really sure why they went there, that's just what I felt like saying. Maybe it's a good thing I don't write as often as I mentally compose.
A lot has happened in the month since my last post. There's no way to concisely convey all the notable experiences, nor is there any need nor likely any desire for such overarticulation. I'm still trying to figure out my slant for my blog, as in, what's the point? Initially I intended to somewhat replicate the idea of some blogs that had recently caught my attention, by focusing on the ways I try to live simply in the kitchen/our home. Yet I also wanted to have this be a place to ponder thoughts and discuss reasons why I have this desire for simple living--something I haven't done very well yet. But if I start thoughts on those issues, and share stories from my domestic endeavors (and trust me, I have those...stay tuned), do I want to stop there? That's not all my life is. Although when I get too ambitious it does feel like it somedays. :) BUT I obviously can't blog about everything--apparently I struggle even when staying somewhat within the realm of the kitchen. Also, I ramble about everything once I start typing...I need schoolwork and writing assignments. Just kidding. Really.
So. Taking advantage of this natural segue, let's talk about yogurt.
(There was no segue. There still is none.)
I've been making yogurt consistently since the first week we moved here. You can't blame me; not only is it fun, free with fresh farm milk, healthy, delicious, and versatile, it's delicious. That's right, it gets two delicious-es.
I've grown up (hypothetically) on homemade yogurt--what a cool mom I have, right? Always an ample consumer, my consumption levels have only increased upon entering my own household. It is an extremely rare day that I go without some form of yogurt entering my nutritional intake--for breakfast with fruit or granola or even half-and-half in my milk with regular cereal, my packed lunch for work always has some glorified yogurty dessert, in smoothies, and although we don't often have it for supper dessert like my family did (we tend towards ice cream...someday there will be a blog about that), it still finds its way in often through homemade dressings, sauces, or sour cream. Basically, it is an essential component of my kitchen.
Granted, I have this frighteningly strong love of bought yogurt. I can't compete with even the Kroger brand pina colada or acai berry. Ask Brian or my parents; if we are getting a splurge purchase, pretty much I want yogurt every time.
That said, it seems kind of silly to buy yogurt when I make it all the time anyway. So I don't. And I really don't even feel like I'm deprived. (Except that I still haven't seen pretty much any Disney classic movies.)
It's been cool; once people here learn that I make yogurt, they all want to know how, too. Okay, not all, but I've given out my recipe to numerous people either from church or even quite a few random people from work. And now, I get to give it to you! I just like to spread the joy; it makes me happy. :)
First off, though, there are so many little differences to how to make yogurt, and I'm gonna go ahead and admit this isn't the only nor the best. It's just what I do. And I keep learning new things from other yogurt people!

YOGURT

All you need is a pot, thermometer, glass jars, starter, and of course, milk.

To make 4 quarts of yogurt, pour just a tince less than one gallon milk into a sturdy pot. You can use whole, skim, or anywhere in between.  

 Heat to 170 degrees or so (I have a hard time being exact about these things), stirring every now and then to prevent sticking to the pot. Not fun to clean. Once to the right temperature, remove from heat and place pot in the sink in ice water, or even just let it sit out on the counter, until it cools to 110 degrees. This is when you whisk in somewhere between 1/4 cup to 1 cup of starter yogurt...told you I'm not exact. :) The starter is simply bought plain yogurt the first time, and then from your previous batch of yogurt after that. I've been told you will need to restart from bought every once in a while, so I froze some manager's-special plain yogurt into ice cubes so I can just grab what I need when the time comes. (It hasn't yet, and I don't know what it will look like when it does...)

 So yes, after you whisk in the starter, as well as a splash of vanilla and/or 1/2 c sugar if you feel like it, pour into your glass jars and set in an insulated cooler. Nestle one jar of hot water in there as well, and stuff in old sheets or something to fill the empty space. Let incubate for between 4-12 hours--longer equals sourer. Then stick in the fridge, and you're done! Unless, of course, you're like me and have a compulsion to always snatch off the cream top before you put it away.

Amanda gets excited about yogurt.

Today, oh today, I tried a new method. Look how nifty it is--instead of heating the milk in the pot, heat water in the pot and milk in the jars and jars in the water! I love the idea of saving the mess that always happens when I get milk crud stuck on the pot and spill milk-ish trying to pour into the jars.
Saving the mess is not what happened. I was on the road to success, pulling the filled and ready-to-go jars out of the ice water to put in the cooler. *suspenseful musics* The bottom of the jar straight up fell out. Milk. Went. Everywhere. I had no idea a quart of milk was such a voluminous quantity. Into the counter cupboard, dripping onto and even into the drawers below, splashing through a slightly-open corner cupboard, sloshing onto the floor. I just washed my rug yesterday, right? First time. Today got to be the second. Eventually I got things cleaned up, after tracking milk-footprints over my also freshly-cleaned floor while scurrying around to first finish the other yogurts so as not to lose them as well and to get the granola out of the oven since it got done at exactly the same time. But we all survived (sans that one quart); besides, I knew I needed to clean under those canisters.
So it all worked out, plus I get an epic story to tell you! I thought getting avocado milkshake on the ceiling and dropping a bottle of Lysol were bad, but no, this one trumped.
Sheeshers. See, this is why I never have time to blog. :) When I do blog I can't make myself stop at an appropriate time, plus I'm too busy cleaning up after my fiascoes anyway.