Deckin’ the Halls ‘11

Or the start thereof.  I spent the first several days of December state-side visiting family and friends. I left the casita undecorated for the holidays, but with much anticipation to begin upon returning.  The holiday season here really runs from Christmas Eve till January 6th {El Dia de los Reyes}, so I am not really behind.  Our décor is mostly simple, handmade, and relatively un-impressive.  Any cute idea was probably begged, borrowed or stolen from someone {Hi Christina!} or somewhere.  I am spending this week and next doing a project or two a day.  Here is what we have so far: 

 

{Okay, so the fireworks are not a part of the décor, but it would not be the holiday season at our house without them! Just as Rafa.}

Botas…

 

Botas.  Aka “Boots” from Shriek, the newest member in our casita.  I have never been a cat fan, but I prefer cats to rodents…and that is Botas’ job here at our home: pest control.  He comes from a long legacy of mice catchers, so hopefully he will be around for a while!

P.S. A bit of information for those of you who may consider visiting: I have not *actually* seen mice or evidence there of here in {or around} our house.  We are just trying to keep it that way, thus the protection of Botas!

Picture.

Blessed

I find myself in a high school middle school class. But this time instead of sitting among the students, I stand before them.  ‘Cause I’m not longer a student and living in Mexico {apparently} makes me qualified to speak on Latino living and the Spanish language. 

We arrive to the question section.  “I don’t know…” is my most common answer, because,  {as it became quite obvious very quickly}  I am no expert.  The questions cover my experiences, political issues, cultural differences, and of course food.  The teacher takes a turn asking a question, “Can you please explain to the students how blessed we are?!” 

Her question makes me think.  I consider jumping up onto a {judgmental} soap box of mine about the abundance of everything in our country and how unappreciative we are as a society.   But I knew that would not be a fair answer. 

“Your teacher asked me to explain how blessed we are here,” I began. “I appreciate the question greatly,”I continued looking at her, “but I do not think it is fair to say we are blessed.

“We measure blessing in terms of what we have, but in reality that has nothing to do with being blessed or not.  I know people who have nothing, but know that people are the most important thing they will ever come across in this world.   When you go to their house, they will give you the best, if not all, of what they have to eat, and rejoice to do so.  In having nothing, they know that things really mean nothing, and souls mean everything. 

“And I believe,” I continued, “that most of us will spend the rest of our lives learning that simple truth.   They are the blessed ones.” 

Being his.

My dad, Kim, and Maria spent this past weekend with us.  It was fabulous.  We ate too much, slept too little, laughed just enough, and even spent one afternoon hiking some pyramids.

But as these things usually do, it came to an end all too quickly.  At the airport yesterday the time came to say our goodbyes. Dad hugged me tight and I heard the tears in his voice as he told me he loved me.  My throat was tight and the tears threatened to run down my face too so I did not say too much. As Rafa and I turned around, he slipped his fingers through mine, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. We sought out a taxi to begin our trek back to our small home on the outskirts of a little town in central Mexico, as my family boarded a plane to the good ol’ US of A. 

Everything was smooth emotion-wise until that night. Snuggled up close, watching a movie, Rafa said, “I missed your dad.”  I did not respond, so Rafa asked, “Are you going to cry?”  “No,” I responded, “I already am.” 

I pulled my head up of his shoulder to look at his eyes.  “I want you to know,” I began though the tears were still falling, “when we left the airport today, I realized I was not sorry to walk away from the m holding your hand.  I would do it again.  I never wanted to go back with them.  I am glad I choose you.  I have no regrets.  Thank you for that.”  Rafa pulled me close, kissed my forehead and whispered, “Te amo, Kat.” 

And that’s the truth.  I have no regrets.  Rafa is the only man in the world for whom I would give up everything I have ever known.  And I have done it.  And I am not sorry.  I am my beloved’s and he is mine. 

A wee bit of fall…

…in a land where there is not one.

Oh, Halloween {or a version of it at least} is celebrated, but when I think of fall, I think of a season.  Cooler temps, colors changing, apple picking, baking, and pumpkin patches.  All of which does not happen here.  Except for the cooler temps, but the weather here is so fickle we go through four seasons’ worth of temperatures in a day.  

But I love fall. It’s one of my favorite seasons. Actually, I just get excited with any season change, cause I really cannot think of a favorite.  Anywho, we have been pretending it is fall, on a small scale. 

~Thanks to the ending {or near ending} of my first trimester, baking is a favorite activity of mine.  Especially sweet breads or anything with cinnamon.

~Tea {Limon Herb for Rafa and Vanilla Chia for me} is the current hot beverage of choice in this house. 

~An open front door, where the sun streams in the brightest, with a chair pulled up, is my favorite afternoon reading spot. 

~Cinnamon sugar magically makes it’s way on top of just about everything possible. 

~  You can find pumpkins in our small town, but they are all green or gray.  I thought about painting some, but I had yet to do it when my brother-in-law {who lives in Xalapa} sent my these little guys.  They have been enough to quench my need for fall décor.  For now at least  :)   

A Time and a Purpose

{A look at our new, in process, front yard.}

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven….a time to break down and a time to build up….”