This post really isn’t so much about cupcakes, as it’s about why we made them.

If you know me at all, you know how much we love Sixty Feet. If you’re new ’round here, you can read more about it here.

This week my dear friend, Shelly, led a team on a Sixty Feet mission trip. Over the last few years, every time she’s been in Uganda I’ve been there with her. I was actually supposed to help her co-lead this trip. Alas, Lucas got some crazy-fast orders to move to Belgium and the timing just turned out to be bad.

So…off she went…without me.

Oh, I’m homesick for Uganda.

Lucky for me, she is stopping off at my house for a day on her way home. At least I can rub some of the red Ugandan dirt from her Keens onto my face.

Okay, maybe that’s a tad weird. And gross. I’ll have to think of something else that needs red dirt before she gets here.

So if you’re wondering what in the world cupcakes have to do with Uganda and Sixty Feet, then you need to know about The Cupcake Kids. The Cupcake Kids is a partner organization of Sixty Feet that gets kids involved with fundraising. Kids and parents across the world give of their time and resources, bake cupcakes galore, and then hold cupcake stands at churches, parks, garage sales, and parking lots all year long. They raise massive amounts of money in support of Sixty Feet and are a crucial part of this ministry.

Today we made Orange Crush cupcakes to sell to the few neighbors we have. (We have yet to figure out how to host a cupcake sale in this foreign country, but I have no doubt we will eventually.)

And by “we made”, I mean, the “girls made.” I put them to work, and they did a great job…

…while the pirate and his scallywag watched and waited for something to be licked.

Oh thank goodness…finally something to lick.

I could post a thousand pictures of cute kids (I’m biased, alright!)…

…and pretty cupcakes…

…but like I said earlier, this post isn’t really about cupcakes. It’s why the cupcakes are made and why they’re sold.

They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can receive basic medical care.
They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can get counseling for suffering they’ve had to endure.
They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can have their day in court.
They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can go to school and get an education.
They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can hear the gospel of Jesus Christ.

They’re made and sold so that an imprisoned child in Uganda can have hope.

That’s why we sell cupcakes.

Won’t you consider hosting a sale of your own? Here’s the recipe that we made today, so now you have no excuse. If my girls can make and ice these, then anyone can.

For those who are interested, here’s how it’s going so far…

It’s slow-going getting settled in here, but peeps who have moved here say that they didn’t feel “back to normal” for at least 6 months. I don’t know if that’s good news or not.

It seems there’s always some paperwork to be signed, calls to be made, errands to be run and shenanigans to be shenaniganed in order to be official here. In the end, I think I’m going to have at least 4 drivers licenses and 5 different ID’s.

At tad excessive, dontcha think? Whatever…we’ll feel normal again eventually. I’m not too worried about it.

In the mean time…

The kids are all loving school. Well, all except Joseph. He went from a 3 day a week, half day preschool to a full-time Belgian kindergarten, where they only speak French. I think all the big changes are finally catching up to him. The poor guy comes home and nearly falls asleep during dinner. And then tells me that he doesn’t like school because “I don’t know what my teacher say!”

I think it gets easier every day, though. He’s learning French and doesn’t even realize it. Today we were driving over a bridge and he started exclaiming the word “water” in French. And he says a few things to his bus driver in French, when he’s getting off the bus. It’s pretty cute.

Which leads me to my next subject…the kids ride the bus home from school. This is our first experience with bus-riding. Ah! Of course, these aren’t the yellow buses we ride in America…they’re more like Coach buses. And they don’t get home till nearly 4:45, which I’m not too fond of. It really shortens our day, and dog-gone it, I miss them!

Okay, on to funner topics:

A really cool thing about living here is the fresh food I’m able to get. I live within walking distance of a dairy farm. So I’m able to walk over and get raw milk for .50 Euro a liter. That equates to something like less than $3 for a gallon of raw, organic milk.

Dude. How cool is that? And yummy.

Also creamy.

I’ve been getting my butter from a dairy farm in the next village (although I think I can get butter from my new dairy-lady down the street). It comes in a big kilo block wrapped in waxed paper.

I feel so Barefoot Contessa. Now if only I had an herb garden. And a house in Connecticut.

And today I went to an outdoor market (apparently they have these all over the place, year-round) and bought some fresh chicken, a boat-load of crazy-delicious cheese, and lots of fruit.

Oh, and salami. Don’t forget the salami.

Never forget the salami.

We’ve found a church that we like, so that’s a huge load off. Solid teaching and a great body of people. (I realize that’s not a complete sentence, Mom.)

Our van should arrive next week (YAY! I can’t wait to see it), and we bought a second car, so we should be able to drive that next week, too, and STOP RENTING A STINKIN’ CAR.

Sorry. Did I sound frustrated?

When you buy a car here, it’s not like in the States where you can drive your car off the lot on dealer tags. After you buy it, the car has to be rigorously inspected. Once it passes, you then have to wait around 2 more weeks to get your license plates.

Soooo…we’ve got a car just hanging out in a parking lot waiting for us…not being driven. Whatever.

Our household goods should be here in about 2 weeks. I can’t even tell you how excited Lucas and I (and our backs) are to see our mattress. While I’m thankful for the temporary furniture that we get to use, it’ll be nice to see something familiar. And softer.

Oh, and last, but certainly not least, a baby lamb was born this week. I’ll take some picture of him. He is uh-dorable. The kids call him Sugar Socks. Three more babies are due any day. I seriously can’t stand all the cuteness.

So this is my new farm-y life…baby lambs, raw milk, vegetable markets…and forever sweeping up dirt and dead flies.

The end.

You’d think that I’d be kidding if I posted a picture like this..

…and said that this is where I now live.

But I’m not.

Kidding, that is.

You’re looking at our new diggs.

It’s an 18th century chateau, named Chateau du Rouveroy.

But you have to say it all French-like, and start the “Rou” part down in your throat, and give it a “rwah” sort of sound at the end. I still can’t say it right.

We only occupy the right half of the 3rd and 4th floors. You would think that it would make for a tiny apartment. But the inside of our place is very spacious and open.

My friend, Kara, thinks that we should have the theme song from Downton Abbey played when we enter the gates. I told her that her idea was entirely appropriate and that she should make arrangements for this.

Around the chateau property is a moat (again, not kidding).

You can see the ice and snow from last night. Apparently when it gets good and solid, the families who live here play ice hockey on it. I haven’t heard any rumors of alligators in the moat, so I think we’d be good to play on it.

There are so many cool things about this place, and I’m blown away by the Lord’s provision. When I prayed for our new home, I asked if we could live in the country in a carriage house on an estate of sorts (I had heard that sometimes American military families did that if/when those were available). I know…it was a long-shot and a bit ridiculous to pray for something like that, but I wanted to be out of the city and suburbs, and in the country so that our kids could run and play. And I was hoping that we could have an “old” European experience on this assignment.

Not only did He provide this house to live in, but He provided community. Which is huge here (to have instant community, that is…I’ve heard that it can get lonely). There are six American families (including us) who live in the chateau and surrounding out-buildings on the property. The landlord and his wife also live in the big-house. So it’s like a commune. And all the families seem to be really wonderful, and they all have kids who love to run and play outside.

The property is gated (and moat-ed), so the kids can play in safety. And the property is immense, so there’s tons of room to explore. There are farm animals…chickens, donkeys and sheep. One of the sheep is pregnant with twins and due any day. Apparently when animals are born around here, all the kids get to watch the birth. I hope I’m there, too.

The landlord and his wife are wonderful and so helpful. They speak excellent English and love to be social. I’ve hear rumors that Catherine (the landlord’s wife) likes to grow organic gardens in the summer and will help me grown one too, if I’m so inclined.

Which I am.

This is the church across the street.

And I took this picture a few days ago from my bedroom window on a rare sunny day.

(That van in the church parking lot was one of my movers, waiting for the big truck to bring me my first shipment of stuff. Hi, mover! Thanks for my stuff!)

I took this one from my bedroom window, too, but looking off to the left.

The moat flows into that bigger pond, and across the pond is one of the out-buildings I was talking about earlier where one of the American families live.

And over to the left of this pond is what’s called The Magic Tree.

And it truly is magic.

But that’s a post all it’s own…in the spring…when it’s greener.

We are so thankful for our little corner of this big ol’ place, and can’t wait to start making memories.

My camera is gonna be happy.

I really don’t have a stupid title. I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound obvious. And lame…like, “We’re Here!”

However, that actually is the case. We arrived in Belgium this morning…12 bags/trunks, 6 carry-ons, an obstreperous amount of pillows, blankets and Pillow Pets, 2 stomach aches and 1 fever. Yep. Some of us were blessed with some sort of stomach bug the night before we left. And Joseph seemed to think it would be a good idea to add a fever on top of it all.

Nevertheless, we are all feeling much better now. Both flights were extremely smooth and uneventful, and there wasn’t even a single person in the security line when we went through, which means there wasn’t anyone standing behind us to give us the stink-eye while my children acted like going through security was more complicated than a Tom Clancy novel.

And now we’re all checked into our hotel/apartment thingy. And we’re sleeeeepy. And my ankles are swollen.

Is it just me, or does anyone else out there get thankles (thick-ankles) from long flights? I need to know this.

Besides being sleepy and swollen, we are saaad…sad to have left our families, our friends, our home, our sweet little town, and our too-wonderful-for-words church. Since I’ve made this trek to Europe several times in the last few years (on my way to Uganda), it feels like I’m on just another trip, and that I’ll be back home in a few weeks. One day it will actually occur to me that we’re not going back to our community. That we actually moved. But until then, I’ll just live in ignorant bliss.

This is the view from our room…

Gloomy, is it not?

It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, looking out on some little houses in Nowhereville.

And it’s probably going to feel really lonely pretty soon, being the newbie, and all.

But the good news is that I knew to expect the yucky winter weather (having lived in Germany before) and the loneliness that comes with being new, and know that it will only get better from here.

So don’t feel sorry for me (in case you were about to).

I get to live in Europe.

Know how to lose all your readers?

Abruptly stop posting to your blog for 6 months, without leaving a clue as to why.

(btw – these pictures are completely irrelevant to this post. they’re just some of my favorites since my camera was released from its repair-shop-hostage-crisis.)

Life had become overwhelmingly busy, and something had to give. And this little blog had become a beast…and a time-sucker…always trying to come up with a clever, picture-laden post, answering all the emails/questions that came as a result of what I had written, editing pictures…and on and on. So I was more than happy to just walk away and take care of my kids, my husband, our home and all the hoo-ha that comes with that.

Ah…sweet relief…

Like a lot of blogs, this just started out as a way for me to chronicle our adoption journey and keep our friends and family updated. Blogging almost seems like a requirement when you announce to the world that you’re adopting.

Homestudy visits scheduled?
Check.

Birth and marriage certificates ordered?
Check.

USCIS forms submitted?
Check.

Blog started?
Check.

See? I told you.

And you know that I have a terrible short-term memory. I only have two penguins on my iceberg dedicated to short-term memory. This little corner of mine on the internet has been a wonderful way to remember the past few years.

It’s also good for me to have a catalog of the recipes that I make up. On occasion I might be seen in the grocery store, referencing my own blog for recipe ingredients on my smart phone. I can never remember what kind of tomatoes go in Chicken-n-Rice Delicioso, people!

This break from ignoring my blog has been wonderful…and needed. But now our family is moving to Belgium, the land of waffles and chocolate. (insert picture of me gaining weight here…I can already feel it)

And we’re moving soon. As in, reaaaally soon.

And I certainly don’t want to miss jotting down our misadventures over there! So back to blogging, it is.

It may not be twice a week, or even twice a month, but I’ll get to it when I can. Don’t over-expect.

Random fact: Did you know that Belgium has more castles per square mile than any other country in the world? I plan to live in one.

Also, the biggest baby in the world was born in Belgium in 2006. Are you enlightened, or what?

I know, I know.

I owe, like, a bajillion posts and updates from the rest of our trip.

Here is the list of my totally
legitimate excuses in regards to my slackerdom:

We lost our Internet stick the last week in Uganda, so we couldn’t access the world wide webs.

Jet lag. (it’s evil)

We (well, Jane and Addy) jumped right into the middle of a summer swim league. Practice, practice and more practice. And swim meets. Dude.

Jet lag.

My parents sold my childhood home, so we took a last minute trip (literally….I was on the phone with my mom at 10:30 am, she asked if we could come home for one last weekend, and we were in the car by 11:30…super speedy packing skills, I say).

Addy dislocated and broke her elbow. It was a long and painful day/night in the ER.

The next day our basement flooded with some major grossness (aka, raw sewage) and has continued to do so every day since Thursday. Awesomesauce.

We want camping over the weekend with the young adult ministry from our church. Those are some seriously cool kids.

Aaand now I’m waiting for Addy to get out of surgery as I type this. Turns out, she chipped part of her elbow off and they’ve got to pin it back on. She’s in great hands with a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. I love Children’s Mercy. I didn’t cry one bit when they took her away.

Nope.
Not one bit.
(who am I kidding…I’m her mother…I’m allowed to cry, okay?)

So…{sigh}…that’s been our plate for the past several weeks.

Full.

But I thought you might like to know that we made it back from Uganda in one piece.

We love it there.
We miss it already (especially Lucas).
We have many stories to tell.
Hopefully I’ll find some time in the near future to write them.

During my visits/mission trips to Africa I have been to numerous babies homes, orphanages and remand homes (child prisons). I’ve worshipped with those children, loved on babies, played games with them, listened to their stores, laughed with them, cried with them, hugged on the bigger kids and held many, many hands.

However, I think yesterday topped them all.

Yesterday, I got to bathe a group of about 40 little boys (from ages 3 to about 9 or 10) who needed a bath. Badly.

Kirby, Flo and I went to M1 (one of the remand homes), prepared to bathe, moisturize and dress (in newly donated clothes from the Atlanta team last week) a group of little children who desperately needed to be cleaned, reclothed and loved.

I had no idea what a sweet, precious time it would be.

If you’ve never been to Africa, you’re probably picturing a normal bathroom with a normal bathtub. I wish I could have taken a picture for you. We were in a bathroom, alright…but it was a small, dirty concrete room with shower stalls on one side, and pit latrines (squatty potties) on the other.

Are you picturing it?

Are you smelling it?

Of course, we didn’t use the shower stalls for showering. They were used for filling up small wash basins so we could splash the water on the kids as we bathed them.

Cold water.

As the little ones undressed and waited for their turn, it was all I could do to keep it together.

All I could see were my boys. My Joseph and Mathew….their dark brown nekked little bodies…their black, fuzzy heads.

The mass of little boys waited patiently for their turn. They didn’t flinch or complain when I splashed cold water on them. They didn’t wiggle and giggle as we scrubbed them with a washcloth and soap. They didn’t even cry when we accidentally got soap in their eyes. They just stood quietly while we lathered them up and scrubbed them clean.

It was a messy job. And a little bit yucky.

But oh-so-wonderful. I could hear Flo behind me, speaking in Mommy-ese to them as she bathed them.

I bailed about midway through the washing to go to the other room and begin the process of slathering all the boys in Vaseline.

This was my favorite part.

If you have brown skin or children with brown skin, you know how important it is to put gooood moisturizer on, lest you (or they) get dry and ashy. Here in Uganda, most people use some form of Vaseline…it locks in moisture much longer than lotions and creams. And it’s cheap.

I’ve gotten pretty adept at rubbing oil all over my boys after their baths. It takes me about 1.4 minutes per child. I’m wicked-fast.

This time, however, I took my time with each child. It’s probably been a long time since they’ve felt a mother’s touch…since someone smoothed lotion ever-so-gently over their faces and spoke sweetly to them. Once Kirby and Flo finished bathing, they joined in with me. We made a point to go slowly, give them a little hand massage, and even taught them how to give us a “high 5″ after they were all shiny.

You probably think we sound somewhat bizarre-o…and maybe even sick-o, enjoying putting Vaseline on little boys. Please don’t misunderstand me…and don’t call SRS. It was a precious time to show love to these children who no one wants to touch…children who have protruding bellies, swollen from malnutrition and worms…children who are covered in scabies, scabs, ringworm and open wounds…children with burn scars and deformed legs…children who, in my clean world back in America, I would probably never even come into contact with.

I’m kind of wimpy and squeamish, and I don’t handle yucky things well. Thankfully the Lord gave me much grace and compassion (and energy) to show these boys that they are precious.

After we shined them up, we sent them over to Fred for a head-shavin’ and then brought them over to big bags of clothes, brought over by Shelly’s team. The original plan was for the kids to be washed last week and given those clothes when the team was here, but there was no water at M1 the day they were scheduled to do it. I wish the team could have been here to see the boys and girls, all cleaned up and dressed in the clothes they brought. They were so stinkin’ cute.

Within a few hours, one of the little girls had soiled her new dress. Poor thing couldn’t figure out how to get it off quickly enough. I expect none of them stayed clean for very long. But at least they were loved for one morning.

Flo and I want to go back and do it again next Monday.

I’m pretty sure we could talk Kirby into it.

We have had a busy week ’round here…hence my lamesauceness and the lack of posts. Sor-ray.

I can’t believe we’ve already been here three weeks and only have two left. It seems we’ve finally figured out how to do life here, and now it’s almost time to leave. Time has FLOWN by!

Rude.

Shelly’s team of 9 arrived last Saturday night, and it was non-stop action. We kicked off our week with church in Bwerenga at Ernest and Mama Catherine’s church. Lucas was asked to preach at the second service down at the Flower Farm. Can you imagine? Not knowing that he was going to be asked to preach, I took the kids back to Mama Catherine’s house after the first service. I’m BUMMED that I missed it, but I heard rumors that it was good stuff.

This week, Flo and I got to go work with the team, while the men-folk stayed at the house with the kids.

They played in the dirt a lot.

By the way, in case you’re wondering who Flo is, she is one of the Ferrell’s who are living with us. She and Boog (her husband) and two children are here through the end of July. We couldn’t have better housemates…we are extremely well-suited to be sharing a house together. Much fun is had here.

We spent the first half of the week with Shelly’s team in the remand homes with the children, as well as interviewing our sponsored children who are currently in boarding schools throughout the area. It was a highlight for me to see how thrilled the older kids were when we showed up to interview and visit with them.

It was especially great to see one of our older boys, Aron, who I met in one of the remand facilities last October. Just eight months ago, he was living in a prison.

Where did I see him this week? At a vocational school where he’s studying to be a caterer.

He is doing well in school and is happy and full of hope.

I love it. (I wish I would have had my stupid camera out so I could have gotten a picture of him…he was totally adorable, sporting his SixtyFeet tee.)

On Wednesday, Flo and I hosted a dinner for the team, the interns and the Gash family.

Um…that would be 19 adults and 9 children.

Flo and I stayed home that day and cooked our hineys off. Since we fixed about 10 different Ugandan dishes, we decided that we should form ourselves a catering company.

We also decided that we needed a logo.

I’ve never been a woman to shy away from some good fonts.

Kelsey got creative and framed it for us.

She made us look incredibly professional.

On Thursday we piled into three vans and drove to Jinja to spend the weekend visiting other well-run organizations.

I love Jinja. It’s a beautiful, quiet town that sits on the edge of Lake Victoria. It’s a serious contrast to the nutty city of Kampala, where I breathe in so many fumes whilst sitting in traffic that I’m convinced I’ll die of black lung.

Anyhoo…we visited Emily and her beautiful kids at Ekisa, and then went the next day to visit Kathy and her wonderful children’s home, Redeemer House. We helped the kids make scrapbooks so that they can save some memories from their days at Redeemer before being adopted by their forever family.

(we can’t take any credit for the neat-o scrapbook idea…Kathy thought of it…our team from Atlanta just supplied all the cool paraphenalia)

That afternoon, we got to do some touristy stuff and take a boat out on Lake Victoria to the source of the Nile. (yes, we got on that rickety lookin’ boat)

We rode out on the lake to the island right where the source starts. It’s so cool…you can see where the water bubbles up from the spring.

It was a fun little outing.

For our last day in Jinja, we got to visit Amazima Ministries.

Yes, I met Katie Davis…it was hard not to be a little starstruck. She’s pretty much a rock star in my book. But after talking to her, I quickly realized that she’s just a normal girl with lots of kids, doing what God has called her to do. Amazima is an incredible ministry that serves hundreds of children in the local area outside of Jinja, as well as helping their families.

If you don’t know Katie’s story, go to Amazima’s site, or go read Katie’s blog, or get a copy of her book. It’s an incredible story…you won’t be disappointed.

While we were there, our friends, Jenny and Brad, showed up. It’s so wacky to run into peeps on the other side of the planet. How she could be just off a plane not 12 hours ago in this picture and still be so cute is beyond me. (she’s on the left with the large pink bag)

Rude.

I could never achieve this level of cuteness after flying for 2 straight days.

As we got ready to leave Amazima, we looked around for Jane (our other three kids had gone back to Kampala with Kelsey).

We found her perched under a makeshift hut, talking to a gaggle of boys while they ate their lunch.

Oh Jane…

…I just love your big ol’ heart.

Also, there was a pet monkey there named Franco, who would stick his head out of the hole in the side of his cage if you’d knock.

Okay, so this post has rambled on for 16 pictures and over 900 words. But I had a lot to update.

One more picture and I’ll shut up…

For Father’s Day today, Flo and I went shopping and bought our husbands (and our driver, Daniel) official Ugandan “football” jerseys (soccer jerseys, for you American peeps). 

I thought they looked pretty dapper.

I’m finished with this extremely lengthy post now.

I promise.

The end.

We’ve had another great week here in the land of red dirt.

And we’re starting to realize the massive difference between a very-short-term-come-without-your-family mission trip to Africa versus pack-up-everyone-and-stay-awhile mission trip to Africa.

The two ain’t the same.

Not that I’m touting myself as a long-term missionary…I would never insult the LTM by comparing their work with our five-week little weaksauce jaunt. Nor am I criticizing the short-term missionary who comes over for a week and goes non-stop, full-force till they fly back home.

However, whether it’s five days, five weeks or five years…when you’ve got your little kiddie poops with you, you’re forced to live…well…life. You don’t get the luxury of simply toughing it out all by yourself, living from Clif bar to Clif bar like you do on a short-term mission trip. You’re forced to find a rhythm in an unfamiliar, inconvenient setting.

Not that I’m complaining…I wouldn’t trade it.

But there are definitely moments of I-don’t-want-to-wash-one-more-dish-by-hand-in-cold-water, and why-are-there-muddy-footprints-all-over-my-bathroom-floor, and I’m-too-tired-to-bathe-my-kids-but-I-have-to-or-their-sheets-will-be-filthy.

Those kind of moments.

Just keepin’ it real, people.

On the flip side, however, is seeing Jane and Addy take notice of all the extra work that I have to do in order to keep up. And in their noticing, they’re actually pitching in and lending a hand. You should see how adorable they are ironing all of our clothes (you really should iron all your clothes here…when they hang on the clothes line, the flies lay eggs in them…which in turn, will get into your skin unless you iron your clothes and kill those suckers…GROSS!). 

They’ll even wash dishes, dry them and put them away for me (Jane and Addy, not the flies). And don’t get me started on how they like to mop.

Those crazy girls. I would have never seen this had I been back home with my hot water and clothes dryer.

This week I haven’t been holding orphaned babies, evangelizing, or changing the world. I’ve been home, trying to figure out how to take care of my family and run a household in Uganda while Lucas goes to work each day. There have been several failed meal attempts and one or two (or twenty) impatient moments.

But at least in this moment, all four of my children are fed, bathed, and sleeping happily underneath their mosquito nets. The dishes are all dried and put away, the laundry is put away on a pile in my bedroom (at least it’s clean and ironed!) and my bug bites and jimmy-rashes are all sufficiently covered in steroid cream.

And now I’m off to bed.

G’night, folks.

See? I told you we have monkeys. (crazy sun got in the way of my picture)

So, I have heard from several people that I am slacking in the updates department.

My sisters are calling me weaksauce.

But I supposed ’tis true.

If I have any excuse, it’s because we go, go, go all day…and by the time we bathe the kids, tuck them in, and then bathe ourselves, I am asleep before my head hits the pillow. (by the way, I find immense satisfaction in washing my feet each night…one probably shouldn’t find this much enjoyment in this task…but I dare you to come over here and wash your own dirty feet and tell me that you didn’t like it)

I rarely have time to get on my computer. I might check my email once per day, if at all…which is the antithesis of how I live back home. I kinda like it.

So, on to more important topics (besides my feet)…like what in the world we’ve been doing since arriving.

Lucas jumped right in and joined the team that was here from Atlanta. They went to the remand homes, attended various meetings, held various meetings and visited a few other well-established, well-run ministries to glean insight into how they’re run.

His feet are officially wet.

I spent my time last week preparing the house for life, running errands, trying to keep up with chores (which are far more time-consuming here–Lucas is busy helping with them every minute he isn’t doing SixtyFeet stuff so we can keep our heads above the water), helping Kelsey and Kirby (well, I hope I helped them!), and hosting the team for meals and meetings here at the house.

On Friday, for instance, a last-minute staff meeting was scheduled over lunch, and my patio was the venue. And what does one do when one needs to fix lunch and doesn’t have any appropriate fixin’s? Why, have your gate guard take you down to the local market and buy ingredients for beans-n-rice, of course.

I bought enough stuff to fix a large pot of beans and rice, along with fruit for dessert to feed 5 men, 4 children and myself. I spent about $7.

I was pretty impressed with myself. I wish I could get everything at the market.  Not everything here in Uganda is as cheap as it is back home.  It’s crazy how living here can be so cheap in some areas and so crazy expensive in others.

Yesterday the whole crew (the Atlanta team, the interns and our family) made our way to Bwerenga to Mama Catherine and Pastor Ernest’s house.

Our kids made fast friends with the children there.

Joseph and Aaron (Faith and Boaz’s oldest child) became good buddies.

They spent the day chasing chickens around the yard, harassing the puppy, wielding their “swords” and running through dirt.

This picture should be a good indicator as to just how much fun he had yesterday.

I hope this all comes out in the washing machine.

Pastor Ernest and Boaz took us on a hike around the new property where the first SixtyFeet house is to be built. It’s a stunning two-acre plot, with views of Lake Victoria.

The property is covered in mango trees…

coffee trees, avocado trees…

and jackfruit trees.

If you don’t know what jackfruit is, I shall tell you. It looks like a lumpy lime-green rugby ball. And they’re big…like a big ol’ watermelon. They are super sweet and taste like a cross between a mango and cantaloupe. It sounds yummy, but I’m not a big jackfruit fan. Maybe I’ll learn to love it.

Mama Catherine, Faith and Ruth, in their typical fashion, fixed a Ugandan feast for us. Those ladies can cook!

Then a group of us hiked down the hill on the mile-long trail to the lake (Victoria’s, that is).

I’m pretty sure Joseph got the dirtiest. I think he would have jumped in to swim had we let him.

Needless to say, a day at Ernest and Catherine’s is a day well spent.

Faith runs a preschool there at their church. She has asked me to come and teach classes on Fridays.

Ohmuword.

I don’t think she understands how under qualified I am to teach preschoolers. I hope I don’t dumb them down.

And if that’s not a scary enough concept, check out this picture below of the giant spider that was hanging out over the entrance to the preschool.

Of course, it’s poisonous. And of course, Pastor Ernest reached up there with a stick, pulled the creepy thing down, TOOK THE WEB IN HIS BARE HANDS TO EXPOSE THE SPIDER FOR US, and held it out for us to see.

Ernest clearly has a grasp on God’s sovereignty and trusts that he won’t die a moment sooner than he’s supposed to.

You couldn’t have paid me enough to touch that thing. I had to use my zoom lens to get that picture…I stayed far, far away.

As for this next week, Lucas will be going to more remand homes and assisting the interns in their duties. Our friends, the Ferrells, will be arriving on Tuesday night and will be moving into our house with us. They’re doing the same sort of thing that we’re doing this summer (bringing their whole fam to work for SixtyFeet for several weeks), except they’ll be staying through the end of July. We’re excited for them to get here!

I’ll write again soon. I hope to share more details of our work here.

Also, we have two monkeys living in our trees in our yard, and several pet geckos roaming on our walls.

It’s literally a zoo here.