Making Do

I sat down to write this post, Making Do, celebrating the fun way that we’ve been living this past week, so proud of my ingenuity.  Sunday, after returning from our trip to Utah, we moved into our little two-bedroom apartment (yes, we do have two bedrooms! Long story, but God graciously closed the door on the one-bedroom and gave us a two-bedroom instead).  It was a bit of a whirlwind, since we found out about our move just days before leaving for Utah, and also had to finalize all the paperwork on the house that, Lord-willing, we are building (I say Lord-willing because obviously it is only if He does indeed allow us to move into it.  Just keeping an open hand!).  Anyway, it was a crazy week, and has therefore also been a crazy week this week, getting unpacked and settled and acclimated to our new–shall we say, minimalistic way of living. 

I certainly don’t always handle crises/trials/challenges very well.  Hardly ever. But the one thing I’ve always done that seems to help me is to refer to chaotic situations as adventures.  When a friend of ours heard that we were going on “vacation” to Utah, driving 800 miles with two little kids, she replied, “No, a trip with two little ones is not a vacation, it’s an adventure.”  So true. And as long as I keep that perspective, I can roll with the craziness.  Case in point? Boudreaux’s Butt Paste. It was an adventure, and we’re still laughing about it.

So because we’d planned to just live with Dombrow’s for 2 months and then move into a house, all of our stuff is in storage. We have clothes, yes, and our bed and couches, but nothing else. No kitchen stuff whatsoever since I just used Joy’s things.  And because we’re stubborn, we refuse to spend much money getting new stuff (what a waste!).  SO, we went to the dollar tree and for $11 got four plates, four glasses, two mugs, and measuring cups.  We have a bag of plastic forks and spoons, and my mom graciously let be borrow an old saucepan, can-opener, and baking sheet. An old folding table in my dad’s shop with four folding chairs made a lovely dining room.  Set! 

A few of the obstacles–no wait–adventures that we encountered this first week:  The folding chairs were a bit rickety so Dutch fell straight over onto his head the first time he sat in one.  We’ve made adjustments. 🙂 We had an old shower curtain from our rental house, but alas, no shower curtain rings. So the first few days we showered by aiming the showerhead against the wall and trying to angle ourselves over into the water without it spraying everywhere.  Needless to say, it sprayed everywhere.  Finally Jeff decided this was ridiculous so he found three long twisty ties and held the curtain up with those, or at least three spots, the rest hung down like big sagging drapes.  But then guess what?  Joy came by for tea and announced that she had extra shower rings I could use! Yes! Bath mat?  A towel on the floor does fine. 

I figured a cheese sandwich would work for an easy lunch on Tuesday. I pulled out the new block of cheese, opened the drawer, stopped: no knife.  A plastic spoon would not work.  Knaw on the block like a wild animal and spit pieces of cheese onto my bread?  No thank you.  I put it away and decided I wasn’t hungry.  Finally I got desperate and cut slices of cheese with an old pair of scissors. I know. Barbaric.  But it worked.  My mom graciously brought me an extra steak knife she had on hand.  I knew I needed some kind of frying pan, so I did break down and picked up a $10 special at Walmart. 

So tonight I was feeling ridiculously ambitious and decided to make our favorite dinner, my first time cooking in our new place.  Everything was perfect–a pot for rice and Jeff could grill the chicken on the BBQ.  We even invited another couple over for dinner, I was ready for hospitality! Woohoo!  So as the rice is cooking and the chicken marinating, I sit down to write my blog…

And then the smell.  Burning, scorching, stinking.  I get up and somehow, I know not how, the rice has burned.  Burned? How do you BURN rice?  I’ve cooked rice about a thousand times and never burned it.  But apparently this electric coil stove is quite the contraption because entire bottom layer of rice is scorched and burned onto the pan and the entire pot tastes like burnt popcorn. Inedible. Sweet.  Only slight annoyance. Fine fine. At least we still have chicken.  Then Jeff needs to work late so I decide to just fry the chicken in my new frying pan.

Hm.  Apparently super cheap thin frying pan, mixed with electric coil stove top do not mix.  Despite being on medium heat the whole time, the bottoms burn.  Burnt rice and burnt chicken. Hm.

So now I am sitting here laughing at myself.  I was so proud of my “making do” but apparently I still need some work!  The other couple couldn’t come over, Jeff ended up having to go back to the office to work tonight, and so I am here, laughing at how easily I am deflated.  Truly though I must say, I love this little apartment we now call home. It is perfect. Heidi’s “room” (our closet) is way bigger than before, we have two bathrooms, and even laundry right here in our apartment.  The little enclosed deck looks out on the busiest street around, which means that Dutch can joyfully sit and watch trucks go by for hours, pointing out “tow-hooks” and “Papa trucks”.  And, when I look out the window I look right into the parking lot of our church.  It’s like a parsonage! 🙂  Jeff walks to work, and we’re literally so close to Starbucks I can sometimes catch people’s conversations!  It’s fun. And for now, we’re rolling with this little kitchen adventure. From now on I will cook everything on simmer.  Everyone raise your paper cups–Here’s to making do.