Hi from the Weavers

  Our crazy, loud, opinionated family. I adore them all. So, so proud of my row of handsome young men and beautiful daughter. Ignore Christopher's pained, angry look as he has one purpose in life and that purpose was safely tucked away, giving him an attitude. And i personally believe Marlin gets handsomer every year. LOVE the gray streaking his hair, giving him an air of distinction. Ah yes, i am blessed among women. 

  I also love the green door behind us. 

  We are only days from, (Lord willing....always Lord willing) seeing family and friends again. The paper chain is slowly disappearing and we are cleaning out corners and excitedly talking about who we're going to see and what we're going to eat. Why does it always come back to food with us? We love Jesus.........and good food. We may need help. Preferably with a side of good coffee and dessert. Marlin will take bacon with his. Or sushi.

  We have begun the firsts of "this is the last time we will be doing this..." and sometimes that hurts. I keep telling the children to soak up life here and not focus to much on the future, because never again will they be this age and live in Kenya. They of course take this advice to heart.......NOT. Someday they will know why i say this. Meanwhile i will continue to say it even while i keep the butterflies in my stomach at a low roar. I am also excited. 

  We will have a 6 hour flight from Nairobi to Qatar and then a 15 hour flight to Philadelphia. Fifteen hours, people. That's enough to start many gray streaks in my hair. Since i don't sleep on airline flights, can you imagine the state of my emotions when we land? Calm and collected, only because i will be in zombie mode. So i'm praying for a miracle. A miracle of sleep for all those handsome boys, for myself, and especially handsome baby, along with a gracious stewardess who will allow me to lay said baby on cozy floor bed. Will you pray with me? In the scope of things, it's a small thing to pray for, perhaps even selfish. So pray as you feel led. 

  And now, duty and dirty bathrooms call. So until next time..........

  

  

  It's been quite the week.

  Make that life.

  Tuesday evening Levi was playing on top of the swing set and what do you know, he fell off.

  The top.

  This was the result.

 We spent 4 hours at the hospital getting X-rays and then the plaster. It's a wrist fracture and the cast MAY NOT GET WET! Yeah, right.

  For some reason today he's a bit short tempered and i feel like a truck ran over me. It was exhausting to spend half the night before comforting him and then sitting, sitting, sitting in the same hospital that we sat and sat and sat with Hadassah. By today i want to hide somewhere far, far away but no, there's laundry to wash, food to cook, and a little boy to comfort and rock. He's not in a lot of pain anymore and it's only a two week cast so we have a LOT to be thankful for.

 And what do you know but that it was Jacob's birthday. So after the hospital visit we picked up a gift for Jacob and headed home to where Emily had baked a cake and was babysitting the 3 remaining littles plus two others. She is an amazing young lady and her maturity is way beyond what mine was at her age. But that's what happens when you are the only girl in a family of boys.

Happy 5th birthday, Jacob!!! 

There's a family joke about Jacob and his "fake snakes," so of course we had to make a fake snake cake. Emily baked the cake and her and the boys had great fun decorating it. And I? I took a nap. 

His precious birthday candle that promptly broke when he tried to wash the icing off. Poor little man.

One of his goofy grins.....we get such a kick out of his expressions. 

Not every 5 year old boy gets his own Landrover for his birthday. He was greatly pleased but i think even Eric was a bit jealous.

   Jacob brings so much joy and laughter to our home. Him and Levi are best of friends and where one is you'll find the other. One of his nicknames is "fuzzy" because of his hair constantly standing on end.

   There's no way around it. We love this guy!

  So many things to write about.....so little time.

  I'm going to start with Marlin's big 4-0!!

 We're getting old, people! I well remember my dad turning 40 and i thot he might as well lay down and die. I mean, what worth is life when you're 40? And here we are and i wouldn't trade 40 for 20 any day.

 I planned, along with a few other sneaky people in the compound, a big 40th birthday party on the day of his birthday. I didn't actually think we would be able to pull off the surprise factor but we did. I had Becky, one of the missionary women who does beautiful cake decorating, make a small cake for lunch to throw him off. She also decorated a big cake for the bday party that evening. The small cake worked and it never even crossed his mind that there might be a party instead of a simple supper invite to Tony and Judith's. We walked in at Tony's to the whole compound singing Happy Birthday.

  Yup, we caught him by surprise. The poor littles were a bit confused to walk into a whole crowd of people singing and laughing, hence the reason Jacob is clinging to my hand.

    .....happy birthday to  you.....just so happened that there were two other birthdays that same day so we sang also sang happy birthday to them and to Zac, whose birthday was two days later.

I think he's trying to make it look like MY birthday, but i can assure you, i am still in my thirties. ;) And as usual we have one child digging in the area of his nostrils and poor Jacob looks like he's taking his daddy's old age harder than Marlin himself. 

The cute little toilet paper man made by Tony and Judith, filled with 40 different little gifts. Everyone was supposed to bring 40 things of "something small." People got creative. 

This one was filled with all kinds of useful things like pampers for incontinence.....well suited to a man like mine. ;) 

And we can't forget the food. Judith went out of her way to help me. She did the decorating and made the lattes, (three different kinds). I made the chicken salad sandwiches and another friend, Marji, made the popcorn and chip mix. Thank you friends!! It was a success! 

Good bye

My dad having devotions at our church the last sunday before they left. 

  So the 10 days were finished and it was time for my family to head home. The last sunday at our church, Jason, my brother in law, had the sermon, and my dad had devotions. After church we all stood at the back as usual and the people came through shaking our hands and it was when the choir came thru that we realized they were singing a special song for the visitors. "We will nevah, nevah, forget you....." It was a tear jerker and i tried not to think of when they sing that song for us.

  Monday, my family experienced the animal market where you can buy all kinds of handmade goodies, and then home for one last meal before they flew out of Kisumu that afternoon.


   Dishon, our Kenyan friend, had eaten several times with us while they were here and my father took a real liking to him. Which isn't surprising because most people do. The first day Dishon ate at our house when dad was here he had ice cream. For the first time ever. My dad loves ice cream and promptly bought two tubs at the grocery store and while my kids inhaled vast amounts in an ice cream induced state of bliss, Dishon watched closely. The adults watched in amazement as he stood up, gripped the ice cream scoop and promptly laid two mounds by his bbq chicken sandwich and coleslaw and began eating it all together. I figured that was the end of the ice cream experience as i simply couldn't fathom bbq sauce, mayo, and ice cream making any kind of happy marriage. But no, after that was polished off, and after seeing that the white children were pouring coke over their ice cream, he proceeded to lay several more mounds of ice cream on his bowl and flooded it with coke, still using his bbq sauce and mayo smeared plate. He then informed us that while he's never had ice cream before, he likes it very much. Which is pretty amazing because many Kenyans, after tasting ice cream, don't like it because it's much to cold and sweet. So we told Dishon to come the last day that my family were here and he could once again indulge in that icy sweetness. And he did.

Marlin, Jason, Dad, and Dishon......i really, really don't want to think of the day when we say good by to Dishon. He has become part of our family and it tears us to pieces to think of someday saying good bye. 

Dishon and my father 

And i had to add this picture. This is the real us. Dirty clothing, torn jeans, and nose excavators. It's who we really are. 

 Marlin and i took my family to the airport by ourselves because Marlin knew that deep down inside i wanted to see them off. I didn't even know i wanted to and was planning on staying home with the littles and letting the older ones go along but wise man that he is, he knew myself better than i do. I was so glad to go, once i got over feeling guilty at all the sad puppy faces back at home, and as i hugged them good by and cried, i knew that having them in Africa was a highlight in my life.
 

Masai Mara

Hippos and more hippos

  Thursday morning Marlin, my father, sister Eileen and her family headed to the Masai Mara. Oh, and Zachary. Me, myself, and i and the remaining gang stayed home to keep the home fires burning and to clean house. The Masai Mara makes me a wee bit nervous since i managed to get an infected appendix the last time. You're in the middle of nowhere so if an emergency happens you simply pray a little harder and hope the doctor/nurse on site knows his stuff. But that's not why i stayed home. The Masai Mara isn't exactly cheap and neither did a 5 hour trip in a van with 19 people crammed in a vehicle with 14 people capacity look very appealing.

So let's get on with some pictures.

Part of the wildlife scene......oh wait, that's my sister and her family. :) 

My dad hanging out with the rhinos.

King Aslan

Yes, seriously, he did have his hand on that rhino. 

The Savannah

How cool is this picture? Love that tree. That's Marlin and my dad wrapped in Masai blankets. It gets downright COLD in the early mornings.

   Good times, good memories.

Lake Victoria and Kibuye Market

   Tuesday morning saw Marlin and the family headed to Lake Victoria for a boat ride and to see the hippo. Kind giving person that i am, i chose to stay home with the two youngest and Emily and make brunch for when they came back. And the thot of a two hour ride with 14 children didn't especially appeal to me. Not to mention that i've seen safer looking rides.

Thankful that God hasn't called me to be an African fisherman.

Titus the boatman with "the crew."

Hippos are the number one reason for deaths caused by animals. If you get between them and the water while they're grazing on shore or vice versa, woe is you. They've been known to snap boats and people right in half. Another reason i decided to sacrifice and stay home. Nevermind that most of the children were along. 

My dad checking out the lake and the hippos. 

Home for pepper gravy and biscuits. This is where we ate all our meals. The carport is the ideal place for hosting anything from prayer meeting to suppers. 

  In the afternoon the men headed to Kibuye market, one of the largest markets in Kenya. Taking children along is not wise so Eileen and i stayed home and babysat the hooligans while the men strolled through the metal working and furniture part of the market. 

Ok, not just furniture and metal but cabbages also. 

And sewing......

Jason is part owner of a furniture store. His looks quite different. 

At least he looks happy.

My father just could not understand why they wouldn't build work tables to at least be able to stand while they work. A clear sign he thinks like a German, not an African. 

Minnows anyone? A delicacy to the Kenyan.

  After the market Marlin drove the van home and dad, Jason, and our friend Dishon, took a tuk tuk. 

A long, bumpy ride

Kenyans don't feel a need for any personal space, which you tell by the size of their public transportation vehicles. 

Chicken Intestines and Chai

  Yesterday my dad, my married sister Eileen, her husband Jason and their crew of 6 children headed back across the big pond. They are planning a day and a half of sight seeing in London before they fly back to the good ol' USA.

  It was so much fun to show my family Kenya. One of my favorite things about my dad is that he is so not racist and it showed. He was often surrounded by smiling faces even if they didn't get everything this white "mosay" (old man, a term of respect) was saying.

  Last monday we headed to John and Benter's place, a couple from our church, for an authentic Kenyan meal. So after an hour of bumpiness and potholes and goat and cow dodging, and a 15 minute walk, we arrived.

Heading into the "dala" 

Living room straight ahead, goat enclosure to the left, and a sleeping hut to the right. 

John and Benter

  We were ushered inside and were asked to pray a prayer. That's tradition, especially as many Kenyans believe that the white people bring blessings, such as fertility to both man and mammal, and even crops. We then sat and were served steaming hot chai and mandazis, a first for my family.

Cousins eagerly waiting. Oh, the joy of your very own cup of scalding tea. 

My sister Eileen and her husband Jason, with their oldest child, Ina to the left.

Amazing how much furniture they squeeze into a room. Every couch and chair has spotless, wrinkle free, embroidered cloths carefully placed on them in every home i've been in. Sadly, til our crew leaves they're no longer any of the above. Joseph, the bishop and pastor at our church, and his wife Becky, kindly consented to go along. They're from Belleville Pa and are serving their sixth year in Kenya.

We then headed for a walk to a tiny shopping centre while the ladies got a massive feast prepared. It truly gave my family a taste of Kenya, walking between sugar cane fields and feeling that hot, African sun beat down on their heads. 

The white man and the African expounding to each other. John, the man on the left, is a young man from church who has been a member for a number of years. He would very much appreciate a wife, as he made known at a youth seminar where he shared that the "Lord's return is imminent so get married quickly." Amen.

Of course we hadn't taken enough water for that kind of hiking and would you believe we could buy bottled water at a little store in that tiny "shopping center." So one of the ladies had the privilege of carrying our water back to the "dala." What can i say. Marlin just wasn't up to carrying it on his head. 

Back to the house for a feast and what a feast it was! Boiled beef, fried beef liver (can't believe i'm going to say this but it was DELICIOUS! I've had it wrapped in bacon and drenched in bbq sauce. I've had it grilled and baked with onions. One word. Nasty. But this was really good, much to both my shock and my sister's.) There was chicken fried in oil and chicken stewed in a tomatoey broth. There was rice, fried cabbage, potatoes, chapatis, ugali (always ugali!), steamed sukuma, (a  type of greens and the children loved it. Go figure.) There was chicken intestines. For some reason that was pretty much untouched altho our innocent brother in law, Jason, consumed a bit, thinking it was just chicken. Which it was. Kind of.
The meal was wonderful and the "mazungus" thoroughly enjoyed it. After the meal, we were all given sodas for dessert. And i really don't know why i have my head resting on the back of the couch, looking for all the world like i'm in need of a nap. Now that i think of it, maybe i was. Heat, much walking, and copious amounts of food have a way of doing that to a person.

The ladies hard at work in the kitchen, making all that food over little fires. American women? You are SPOILED! It's ok, you can't help that you were born an american but don't take it for granted. And be willing to leave your comfortable kitchens if God asks that. Speaking to myself here because i have an American kitchen in Africa. I love African women. They work HARD but you don't hear them complain. They always have a big smile for visitors, which is more than what most women could say if they had to serve their guests food cooked over a little fire with little or no ventilation in the cooking hut. 

The food has been served, the soda's drunk. It is now between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon and time for the final speeches, prayers of blessing, and introductions. I don't know why introductions are saved til last but it's how it's done and it works. So John and Benter gave a small speech first, then everyone had to introduce themselves, including the row of Kenyans sitting behind Joseph and Becky where you can't see them. Afterwards Joseph read some scripture, we stood for prayer and then were dismissed. We drove into the compound at home at 6 o'clock, just in time to clean up and head to Mark Beachy's house for supper. And would you know, she thot we might just be in the mood for American food and would you know, we were. :) 

  It was a great day, albeit exhausting, and we are so grateful that John and Benter were willing to host us. So thankful that my family got to experience it and make lifetime memories. 

  And that will have to do for this blog post. I will try and quickly add more posts but there's simply to many pictures to do one post justice. Because there's a boat ride on Lake Victoria to see the hippos, there's Bible study, there's supper by Lake Victoria, there's the market, there's tuk, tuk rides, and there's the Mara. And other things i can't remember. 

 I'll be back. :) 

Trouble!! And Delight!!

   They have been a challenge to my skills of motherhood and what little patience i've managed to acquire for like, oh, 6 years. Full of curiosity, opinions, and so many great ideas that get themselves in trouble over and over and over again. Their hair has opinions of its own also, preferring to stand slightly askew like the heads they adorn. Living in a compound has only compounded (ha! compound-compounded.....get it?) the problem of their great ideas and my pride. (sorry, the joke is lame but we just massacred like 200 chickens and my humor is a bit off.)

   Back in the day when i had more opinions than brains i made the audacious comment that i want spunky kids. Kids that are full of vim and vigor and rock the world. I have repented over and over but the damage is done. God seems to have taken me seriously and i have 7 boys with very large ideas and even larger catastrophes.

   One reason the compound had to butcher chickens on a saturday had to do with a blond haired 6 yr old boy. Actually, he's the only reason. He saw the chickens water line leaking and ever so kindly turned off the water so the chickens wouldn't get wet. It worked but they started dying of thirst instead. So instead of a leisurely saturday morning we hacked and plucked away at bloody carcasses. It made me struggle because even while the men of the compound were discussing Friday evening whether we should butcher the next morning or hold off til Monday like the original plans, the twins were in the compound lane constructing something great and wonderful with trash from the shop. They were in the lane because we were celebrating the school teachers birthdays with cake and ice cream and the lane is where we held the party. (Yeah, we hold birthday parties in the lane here because  we like to watch the young people play volleyball and get nailed every so often by a stray shot.) I never noticed the trash treasures being strewn over the lane because i was helping to get ready for the brunch that happens after butchering which was happening unexpectedly thanks to the chickens gasping their last breaths. Because of those very same boys. Who the night before thot it would be great fun to jump on food and clothing packages ready to send out to poor orphans. You can imagine......what happened. I mean, seriously, how much can two little boys do???? How much should a parent endure before it's socially acceptable to walk around mumbling and pulling their hair out? And no, we don't let them roam wildly. Seriously. We're like the model parents for Michael and Debbie Pearl.

  You can stop laughing now.

  After the chickens were safely in the freezers today and our brunch/lunch was eaten, we headed back to our house for an afternoon siesta. I was pondering why it seems its ALWAYS a child with the last name of Weaver and especially a certain pair that's involved in any fiasco. They stretched me quite literally even while in the womb and have never stopped. So while i was thinking about this, i recognized that still, small voice.

  "Delight in them."

  Huh? You mean with a paddle?

  "No, instead of being humiliated and totally frustrated, delight in two healthy little boys who are full of life and love."

  "And trouble, God. Don't forget the trouble part."

  But my heart has been touched and God has spoken. I have nothing to prove to Him or anyone else about being any kind of amazing parent. I ruined that image a long time ago. But it will change my children's lives if i DELIGHT in them. I love them more than life, no doubt about that, but to delight in the crazy loudness and raging energy takes a power from the Holy Spirit and a whole lot of training. Lord knows i needed a whole lot of training and should've gotten a lot more so if anyone can empathize with those two little monkeys it's their mama. We won't discuss their angelic father nor the monkey right underneath the twins who's a whole lot like his angelic father but hasn't figured out the angelic part yet.

  And i pray that someday they really do rock the world. For Jesus.