On My Own - Reflection

One thing that has really been growing in me during mission is the desire to cook.  I'm not only around a good teacher all the time, but she also inspires us to stretch our possibilities.  For Don, that was actually being responsible for cooking for a week (this was like diving into the deep end of the pool and you can't swim) and discovering that he was actually capable.  For me, it was the desire to slow down, learn to take pleasure in the planning and enjoy the fact that the best foods are the simple ones.  Which brings me to the recipe card I have created for you below.

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I didn't have green bell peppers on hand but I DID have lots of red, yellow, and orange ones.  Go figure.  Anyway - I carefully followed the simple directions, set it all up in two layers and voila, bell pepper casserole.  The one change I did make was to add more milk.  The recipe called for 1 cup but it also said to almost cover the ingredients so it was actually more like 1 3/4 cups of milk.  The result was a soft, easy and tasty side dish.  I think if you use less milk, the dish, itself, might be more solid.  Either way, it is delish.

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After about a month in C'ville, I got out in the car on my own for the first time.  I have to admit, it felt unsettling.  I left with my journal in my purse with the idea that I would eventually stop in at the Roundhouse for coffee and some writing.  But first I tried to find the house that Don lived in from ages 13 - 15.  It's a tiny, wood frame house that was build over 70 years ago.  I'm sure that every modern day code known to man would be broken today if such a house went up, but back then codes weren't the thing and yes, the little house is still standing.  But, alas, I could not find it.  (Don did show me how to get there today so I'll post the picture later).

I continued driving around town and was quite sure that I must have been looking very suspicious.  I expected the C'ville police to stop me, I was driving so slowly.  But, none of C'ville's finest were in evidence.  I drove down an alley and spotted the balcony apartment (bottom right).  At the river's edge, the soybean plant is the jewel in the crown of that particular spot on the river.  Driftwood can be found but for the most part is quickly swept away by the currents.  A quiet park with solitary benches sit empty, waiting for the warmth of spring and the heat of summer to entice visitors to take their ease.

I left the park and felt a sense of uneasiness wash over me.  This wasn't my home.  I was a stranger.  A turn at any corner might bring me to areas where I don't belong.  The Roundhouse wasn't as alluring to me as it had been when Don was with me.  Journaling and coffee will have to wait another day.  I don't feel the fit yet.  I need to give it more time. I turn around and go back to the house.