Howdy, Ya’ll!

When we were growing up, my family moved a lot.  My dad was in the service and as such, he got new assignments every few years.  One of his assignments brought us to Carswell AFB (now closed), in Fort Worth, TX.  Being little, my sister and I were pretty adaptable.  We got used to the regular moving and got really good at fitting in to new places and making new friends (maintaining long terms relationships, however, remains a weak area).  With the experience now of an adult who has also done some moving around, it strikes me as impressive just how excellent my mom was at adjusting to new places and fitting in.  I won’t lie, it’s not always easy when you don’t have a safety net to fit in as an adult.  Friendships are more transient as children.  The stakes are lower.  But without fail, Mom always managed to find her niche regardless of the fact that she had no job and little way other than church to meet people.

In Texas, Mom quickly found friends among our neighbors and, like each other place we’d been, started incorporating the local cuisine into her repertoire.  Some background:  Mom grew up in a small city in a small northeastern state and did not really go anywhere until she graduate high school.  She lived in the same house for the majority of her childhood (something entirely foreign to me) and her wildest story that I recall is of the time she painted her room watermelon without asking permission.  When she met Dad, she was thrown into a whole new world.  Many would flounder; she thrived.

This is going somewhere.  At this point in our lives, there’s a good chance that Mr. Cookie and I won’t be static in our location.  I have been excited for the adventure but also afraid that I have lost my ability to adapt and meet new people.  A failed experiment for me in Chicago suggested to me that maybe I’m not as adaptable as Mom.  But today, I had a day that leads me to believe maybe I need to have a little more faith in myself.

A new friend and an old friend converged in our little apartment today to share in the fellowship of making some heart and stomach warming food:  homemade burritos.  I got up early this morning and, conjuring thoughts of my mom (currently far away in AK),  filled the pot with soaked beans and water, shook in the seasonings, chopped the onions, stirred, and taught some good people how to make homemade tortillas.  When they left, they left with bags full of hard earned but worthwhile gains.  I have a freezer full of our product.

The fact is, I have a lot to offer and I’m learning how to offer it to new people.  I think I’m ready for this, if it happens.  Time will tell.

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