a good year

Yesterday, I googled: should you clean fresh killed bird before storing in fridge or is it okay to refrigerate and clean later.

Sorry, chicken friends.  We had to eat one of you.

Today, I turn 28 years old.  The unclean bird is about to be pulled out of the fridge, cleaned, and used as a bacon substitute (I CRINGE to write those words) in this delicious avocado soup recipe for birthday lunch. 

It has been a crazy year. 

Last August 10, I celebrated both on the Catholic Community Adult Retreat and at home with friends over French 75s.

A month later, we were in Rocky Mountain National Park to visit our good friend.

A river runs through it: Pete's first fly-fishing lesson.

Sometimes when hiking, you have to get in the map.

We celebrated our one-year anniversary at Lost Maples State Park.

As the Peace Corps became a reality, I said goodbye to my job and my fabulous work family.

Luby wedding brought to you by many, many helping hands, including my RSL family.

I went to Miami with these lovely ladies and was grateful for such good college friends.  Can you believe we've known each other for 10 years?

Later that month, my siblings, my grandmother, and I surprised my mom for her birthday.

Before long, it was another magical Thanksgiving at the Renewal Center with good family and friends.

I snuggled with this adorable puppy as much as I could before we had to say goodbye,

And, as you know, we spent much of the winter on a farewell tour of some of our favorite places.

And then, somewhere between the insane stress of packing up our lives into a storage unit, becoming a single (and then zero) car family, selling everything on craigslist, saying goodbye to our little doggie, trying to pick out the highest-quality-without-being-too-expensive-wool clothes to take with us to chilly North Africa, and saying goodbye to everyone we love (thank you to everyone who came to visit us, who helped us move, who loved on us, fed us, saved us), we found our way into two seats on a Casablanca-bound airplane.

We moved in with a Moroccan family who treated us as their own.  They overfed us daily, and it was just the fuel we needed to survive hours of Darija classes in a cold classroom.  We became good friends with our little CBT group, lovingly checking in on each other when we find out someone had “the D.”  We ran through our little town in the early mornings past sheep, chickens, and olive fields with the same stride that carried us through our Fort Worth neighborhood. 

By April, we were in our final site, our home for the next two years.  We found a home and continue to make it our own.  Wifi helps.  New friends help, too.

A new friend: because of this lovely lady, we have a well-stocked house and lots of new friends.

Souk time.  You know you've married the right person for you when you roll up your sleeves at the exact same time as you suffer in the heat and try to remember the Arabic word for that spice you really want.

Pete’s parents visited us, and they gave us an excuse to see Morocco through new eyes.

We fled to Nice to escape the hot summer.

We witnessed our first Ramadan, and my host mom made me a jellaba.  I bought some fabric, handed it to her, and said, "I trust you" in Darija.  She did the rest, and I couldn't be more pleased.

Yesterday, we celebrated L’Eid with many of our new friends.  We ate two lunches, for real.  We had to make up for those few days of fasting, you know.

Breakfast #1.

Nothing about this year has been ordinary, nothing has been expected, nothing easy.  It’s been extreme in all sorts of ways.  And, in return, I feel extreme gratitude. I know I'm leaving out a lot of great stories and great people, and I apologize for that. Thank you so much for your support, love, and birthday cheer.

The wise and adorable NIck Miller proudly says, "I like getting older.  I feel like I'm finally aging into my personality."  I couldn't agree more. 

Apparently, this is what aging into my personality looks like.