Lately

Think it's about time for a good comprehensive update? I did a post with this format below back in November so maybe now's a good time.

Work: Yep, language is still going on strong. We were traveling a lot for work but recently made a decision not to let A travel anymore since we could tell it was stressing her so much. 

Culture: I'll do a pregnancy theme. When I am asked what I am having, I say another girl. They always respond with "Aw, shoot, sorry" and then something like "Allah has willed it." Um, maybe I'm perfectly fine with having another girl? I've had one little old lady admonish me for sitting with my legs crossed. She said it will crush the baby's head. I've been told not to eat chicken skin or it will make my baby hairy. My language teacher gets on to me for walking around barefooted at home - she said the cold floor's bad for the baby. I've been told that if you stare at the love of your life the entire time you're pregnant, the baby will be born looking like him. They hold to some of the same superstitions that Americans have about pregnancy (e.g. don't reach above your head or the umbilical cord will wrap about the baby's neck). They try to guess the gender by looking at my belly button. 

A: She turned three just two days ago. It was a fun, relaxed celebration (www.kidrobinett.blogspot.com) if you want to read about it. She's currently going through a girly phase of wearing several dresses throughout the day, changing outfits like a diva at a concert. It's fun but makes for a mess of clothes to hang back up.

Hearth and Home: 

• I think I'm nesting big time because we've rearranged our living room. The TV cabinet is no longer center but in a nook with two armchairs. We don't have cable or an antenna so we rarely use it except for the occasional movie. A conversation area is in center of the living room with couches, rug, and a chair which we recently acquired from Ikea. It is like a rocking chair that we will use with the baby (and no, we will not be rocking the baby to sleep; I used to rock A to relax her for naptime but never til she fell asleep). It's not a real rocking chair but it kind of sways and bounces. It's incredibly comfortable and we sit in it all the time.  More changes to come in the living room...
• While in the States, I bought an oven thermometer and boy, it has make a difference in my baking. The temperature is off but now I can adjust the control to get what I want. I'm still trying new recipes as always. I recently tried making strawberry cupcakes with real strawberries and icing with real strawberries. Yummy but I will need to tweak the recipe for the cake portion to taste less gluten-free. Currently, a crustless pizza is baking in the oven. The "crust" is made up of cream cheese, parmesan cheese (left over from basil pesto), and eggs. No pizza sauce, but olive oil instead with spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, and...more cheese. It was incredibly quick and easy to make. I'll be interested to see how it tastes without a real crust. 
• We recently scored a dresser for the baby's room for what amounts to $30. Very happy with that. We may paint it since it's natural, varnished pine but has some signs of wear. Or not. We're tired these days and so overwhelmingly busy. The baby's room (which is also the guest room) will slowly come together in the next four months.

Free Time: I still read at bedtime mostly and am reading The Age of Innocence which took several false starts but I managed to plow through the first couple of boring chapters and it has become interesting. I don't get to sew as much as I would like. G watches Top Gear on the computer which is his favorite TV show. It's a pretty funny British show about cars. Now that warm weather is well on its way, we will be finding more to do with our free weekends. 

Upcoming Holidays: Easter, yay! Easter is my favorite holiday. We will be heading to the beach on Sunday for a potluck picnic, message, and singing with my small group. We will also do an egg hunt. Today, I suddenly started missing Easter candy and wished that I'd asked for someone to send some. G found a chocolate egg at the store today and some brightly wrapped candy for A's Easter basket so it's close enough. We shredded some construction paper for "grass" in her basket. 

Weather: We are very glad that spring has arrived here. Temperatures hover in the 50s and 60s and on sunny days, it feels as warm as 70 degrees. I was so ready for winter to be over with and the bright sunshine is a welcome sight after months of dreary, cloudy, snowy weather. Trees are blooming everywhere and planters around the city are being filled with petunias and tulips.

Visitors: G's parents are coming next week for a week-long visit! 

(Update on the pizza - it was delicious but it basically tasted like a garlicky cheese omelet with spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, on top. Next attempt: cauliflower as a pizza crust...)

What A Day

I woke up tired. G was in the kitchen with A, eating breakfast and the coffee was perking. After I had my coffee, I got A ready for preschool. I dressed her, fixed her hair, and when it was time to put on her shoes and coat, she refused to comply. I tried putting her shoes and coat on her but she resisted. So, I disciplined her for refusing to obey my initial command to put them on herself and for resisting when I tried to put them on her myself. Of course, A cried. I calmed her down, explained that she did not obey Mommy and that was why she was disciplined. She accepted the coat and shoes when I put them on her. I wiped her tears, gave her a hug, assured her that I loved her, and then she was out of the door with her daddy to preschool for the day.

I was left with an unpleasant feeling for the next hour. You never want to fight with your spouse just minutes before parting on a sour note. I don't want to do that either with my (nearly) three-year-old. I questioned G when he came home. Was A upset? She was quiet on the way to school. Was she still quiet when you got to school? No, she began smiling and talking. She was happy.

Then I burst into tears (thanks, pregnancy hormones). I regretted disciplining her just minutes before parting with her, even though I'd tried reconciling and parting on a better note. What a bad way to say goodbye and to start your day! I had to fight the urge to rush and pull her out of preschool and just smother her with love all day.

So, this may be bad parenting but I resolved never to discipline just before parting for the day. I can still be firm but swatting her bottom could've waited. If I must discipline, I would keep A home longer from school to take the time to reconcile, soothe, talk to her, and reestablish peace. It's essential to me that A can leave her mommy feeling secure and confident in her mommy's love.

I tried to have my quiet time but it was useless. I was too emotional to concentrate and could only pr'y for her. I showered and got dressed to go to language tutoring, feeling the energy slowly drain from me. I was so tired. I got my bag ready with my camera, my wallet, my lunch, my language work, etc.

I got on a minibus to go to my language teacher's home. A minibus looks something like this:

In my area, they're usually a sky blue color and the model is usually closer to the green one above. Each minibus is independently owned. They're not owned by government or by a company. A minibus will have a sign with the origin and destination and you can flag one down like a taxi at any point along the road and they will deposit you wherever you want to get off on that route. A minibus will start at the origin (a bus depot) and run a route all the way to its destination (another bus depot). Then the driver will relax, drink tea, eat a meal, and start the same route in reverse. A single route will have several minibuses running it so you will continually see minibuses with the same destination coming along the road every few minutes.

Back to my story. I got on a minibus, paid my fare (usually equivalent of a dollar or slightly less depending on how far you go), and settled in a seat. I had my bag slung across my chest and removed the strap to leave the bag resting between me and the interior wall. It's not a comfortable ride with lousy springs on a bumpy road, stop-and-go traffic, and the bus also stopping and going continually to pick up and drop off passengers. I drowsed a bit along the 30-min ride. I was so tired.

As soon as I saw my stop, I hopped off with another passenger and crossed the road to start walking three or four blocks to my language teacher's house. I spied something that I need for a language project which requires a photo. I reached for my bag. A sickening feeling flooded over me...I left my bag on the minibus. My bag, that I normally left slung across my chest while riding any kind of public transportation, had my wallet and my camera in it.

I froze for a few seconds. I had my cell phone, a fare for another minibus ride, my house keys, and my public transportation pass in my coat pockets. I debated for a second - should I try chasing it down or just give it up? It may be long gone and even if I could catch up with the minibus, it may already be stolen.

Something tenacious and optimistic rose up in me. I knew the Father above could do wonderful things. I couldn't just give it up without trying. I started sprinting down the crowded, busy road after the minibus but it was too far away. Knowing the minibus would eventually reach the depot, I figured I'd hop on another minibus headed to the same depot and search for it at the depot. I sprinted another block before I spotted a minibus. I know I looked strange with my coat flapping open in the breeze and my round belly sticking out as I ran.

I got on the minibus, paid my fare, and was so overwhelmed with emotion that I started asking if anyone on the bus spoke English. No one, of course. I pulled my phone out and texted an American friend who could speak the language. I sent off a nearly incoherent message to her explaining what'd happened and would she talk to the driver for me? She called my phone and I handed it to the driver. He promised to help. I couldn't help myself and I burst into tears - for the second time this morning. The driver gave me a pained look, jabbered at me, and I continued to cry, in spite of all the passengers looking at me. The little old ladies clucked at me and did reassuring motions at me. The driver handed me a couple of tissues and tried to assure me.

On the long ride to the depot, after a session of kicking myself for being so careless, I calmed down and while hoping against hope that someone was trustworthy and turned in my bag, I began to think about the possibility of not recovering my bag and how to get home. I was going to an area that I'd never been to before. I wasn't worried about finding my way back home - we were riding along train tracks (which also runs a block from my home) so I knew I could get on a train. I was seeing city buses go by with the number that I knew came through my neighborhood so I had a second option.

When we finally arrived at the busy depot, I began searching each minibus with no luck. My strange behavior was attracting attention from the other drivers and passengers who were disembarking and embarking. The drivers began asking me questions and were flustered when I couldn't speak the language. Other drivers opened their minibuses to let me search them. They clustered around me and it became a long blur of mad texting to my friend, a series of phone calls between her, a driver who took an interest in my plight, and a policeman on my phone, and many conversations swirling around me, at me. The driver made calls on his phone to other drivers with no result. No one had my bag.

I was done and ready to go home. The kind driver who was acting on my behalf put me on his minibus free of charge and started the same route back to my neighborhood. He mimed that we would look for the bag along the way (or at least I think that was what he said) but I knew it wasn't going to happen.

On the way, he stopped at a police car, spoke to a policeman, and motioned me off the minibus. My meeting with the policemen is of no importance with no results and I am only mentioning this because when it was all said and done, the policeman put me on a minibus and paid my fare.

When I got home, it'd been four hours since I first left for my language lesson. I was hungry and my exhaustion, which had disappeared under the adrenaline during the entire ordeal adventure, came back full force. I ate a late lunch and collapsed on the couch for a nap.

Since then, A has come home and our relationship was restored as if this morning never happened. She's happy, sparkling, chattering away a mile a minute. I'm thankful.

And now here I am, chronicling this for posterity so that, while I cringe now at having lost my wallet and camera out of carelessness, I will read this and smile later on. Though someone probably stole my bag, I saw acts of kindness. I am satisfied that I tried my best to get my bag back despite language barriers, instead of wondering whether I could've successfully retrieved my bag and living with regret. I'm thankful for the tenacity and optimism deep down inside, born of hope and belief in the Sovereign One who can do miracles.

(Yes, we've already canceled all debit and credit cards and have taken care of everything. No worries, parents!)

'Tis the Season

It's almost Easter and we've got an Easter decoration:

Courtesy of a pigeon

I'm not fond of pigeons. I'm not going on a rant about why I don't like them because that's just a waste of a blog post. One reason that I will give though is that I don't want their poop on my windows, especially since we open our windows when it's hot (no central AC here). I don't want the smell of poop wafting through our house. And I don't want to clean their poop. So, when we saw that a couple of pigeons were building a nest, we tried scaring them away and thought it worked. In retrospect, I probably should've cleared off the twigs but I don't know that I would have because it would probably upset A. And I don't have the heart to do that, even if I don't like pigeons.

Anyway, there it is - two pigeon eggs in our daughter's window. Neither the mama or daddy pigeon seem to spend a lot of time on that nest. I just read that it takes about 17-18 days for the eggs to hatch and 30 days for baby birds to leave the nest after hatching. At least, it'll be fun for A to see.

I may or may not keep you posted on this. Like I said, I dislike pigeons.

Lag

Whew, it's been busy lately. We have been going nonstop and then we went to the States for two weeks on March 2 for a weeklong, work-related meeting with some vacation days tacked on at the end. We got to spend time with G's mom who also works for the same company and had come for four days to work with some of our personnel during our meeting. The vacation days were spent with my dad and then my mom and stepdad. A had a ball spending time with her grandparents! We were able to pick up some things to take back such as A's old baby clothes, new shoes for G, maternity clothes for me, and miscellaneous supplies that we are now enjoying.

Now, it's been about a week since we returned from the States. Jet lag is definitely worse coming back and I had a harder time with it then I ever did in the past. Not only did the pregnancy contribute to the difficulty, I also had a preschooler to help get over jet lag. I think we're officially over jet lag and we're slowly returning to some semblance of normal - kitchen is stocked with food, cooking has resumed, G has started language again, A went back to preschool, and I am...well, taking doctor's orders to rest before I start working next week.

Other than that, it's definitely a readjustment to return overseas even after a couple of weeks away. I was relating to a couple of friends the other day that we got spoiled really fast in the States. We could speak the language, get around easily, find everything we need quickly, and our brains didn't have to work in overdrive to figure everything out. We could get a number of errands done in a day and find numerous things in ONE location (e.g. Target). So now, we're just remembering and getting used to the idea that running just two errands can take all day and something simple in the U.S. is not that simple here. Oh, the expatriate life!

The weather here is turning into spring. It's been in the 50s (positively balmy after a couple months of 30-degree weather and snow) with bright sunshine and deep blue skies. It doesn't look like the temperatures will fall back down below 50 so hopefully spring is well on its way.

Upcoming news: Our baby girl turns three on April 4th! G's parents are coming to visit around mid-April for a week. We also have vacation planned for end of May at a beach in our country on the coast of the Mediterranean. It will be our first real family vacation with just the three of us. We will be enjoying our time at an all-inclusive hotel where this pregnant mommy will not have to clean or cook - only bask in the sun, swim in the pool, and nap away....especially before the baby comes. 

Why The City Is a Wonderful Place to Raise Children

G sent me an article that has the title above, knowing that I sometimes struggle a bit about A growing up in a city, especially as large as this one. I realized, after reading the article, that I get stuck in the rut of thinking of only negative impact of A growing up in a city. The article has helped me to see positives of A being a city kid. Read the full article here. It applies mainly to living in New York City where the author lives but I've adapted it to apply to our current situation and location.

The author argued that the dark side of living in a city is actually an advantage. I can see her point. The blatant sin you see in the city (hookers, drunks falling over and vomiting, fist fights, drug dealers on the street) is great opportunity to explain to your kids about sin. She said she even didn't have to explain the evils of something like drunkenness because her kids already saw for themselves. She pointed out that it's good for kids to see such visible societal ills/evil/sin while they are young because that is when your influence over them is greatest and you can talk to them about it  - "they aren't shielded from it until just as they are leaving home and you're no longer an influence in their lives." Good point. She also said: "sin is more visible and salvation more plausible in the city." Sin further highlights the need for salvation.

For us, we don't live in a city like New York City. Granted, our city is pretty secular and Western, a contrast to the rest of the country, but not on the scale of New York City. It may be that I haven't seen enough of my city but hookers, drug dealers, vomiting drunks are not visible. Yes, sin is rampant in the city...just not as visible. In the summer, we see skimpily covered women but a great deal more of women who are covered from head to toe except for their faces and hands. This is a conservative city and country in comparison. So, the argument in the above paragraph is weak in our case.

The author went on to contrast the dark side of city living to the light side of city living: culture (music, museums, etc) is rich, accessible, and variable. The other benefits mentioned in the article were mostly in the context of ch*rch planting and having your kids surrounded by hip, urban Chr'tians who also wield great influence on your kids. That may apply in our situation in the future but....I'm skeptical.

I look beyond city living to the benefits of living internationally. We took A to the Deaf club yesterday and it really warmed my heart to see A interacting with everyone there. The differences in race, age, language, culture were not barriers to A. She was fearless, communicated with everyone the best she could (using American Sign Language), and she was friendly. She is also adaptable; she knows how to switch between hearing people and deaf people. She's at the age where kids are color-blind, age-blind, etc and accept others unconditionally. She's perfectly happy playing with kids who don't speak her language and picking up their language, as much as she's happy playing with English-speaking kids, as much as she is happy signing to her Deaf mommy.  I hope that she grows up to be kind, compassionate, and understanding of people who are different from her.

Bringing this post to a close, I just want to say that I love the benefits she'll reap from living internationally, the variety in her experiences, the people she'll meet; I just don't love her growing up surrounded by concrete, graffiti, and smog. I don't love the restrictions she has that I didn't have as a kid. Being a city kid isn't necessarily all bad, it just wasn't something I'd envisioned for my kids. I have to remind myself that being a city kid doesn't mean she won't love the natural outdoors -- beaches, mountains, lakes, etc. I'll make sure she'll have plenty of opportunities to enjoy them.

Okay, I'm done. The article ended with a bullet point list of benefits to living in the city, including the practical and lifestyle benefits. I've copied and pasted below, with a few comments.

----

Reasons to Love City Living

Money Savers

• no car purchase + insurance + parking + gas + repairs
• many free cultural events (e.g., Shakespeare, Philharmonic in the Park), not just amateur performers
• avoid the many hidden costs of house ownership

Savings of Time and Money

• subway
• no house repairs
• no lawn and garden care (what if you like gardening?)
• no auto maintenance

Lifestyle Benefits

• simplicity more possible---you collect less stuff in small apartments
• immediate family is closer physically, harder for kids to isolate themselves; meals together more likely
• apt cleaning/care is easier, less time-consuming than a house
• you don't spend all your free time on house/yard chores
• no scraping off your car in icy weather---enjoy walking in the snow instead
• no school snow days---the subway is always working (oh, we've had snow days here)
• sense of community, bonding, in your immediate neighborhood
• for new parents, especially stay-at-home moms, you don't experience the isolation and despair of being stuck at home all day, unable to go out or even see another adult person---just a trip to the laundry room gives you someone to talk to, and a stroll outside brings you to the world 
• many large American cities have something like Fresh Direct: order your groceries online and have them delivered the next day, boxed, to your kitchen; great if you are sick or time pressured
• fresh fruit and cheap flowers at corner stands rival expensive shops elsewhere
• great food in every restaurant---no bad meals (not true in this city - there are hardly any ethnic restaurants here and I've met a number of people who have never had Chinese, Indian, Thai, Italian, etc and have only eaten their own national cuisine their whole lives. I've had bad meals here, too)

Kids

• less peer pressure; great diversity of interests and skills in every school cancels the need to fit into a mold
• diversity of friends and classmates makes them comfortable anywhere in the world later on (the truest thing that article could say about our daughter)
• babysitters within walking distance or travel on own---no driving them home late at night
• babysitting less expensive with neighborhood co-op
• kids' friends often within walking distance, or meet at playground; no carpooling
• easy access to cultural enrichment activities (music, art, drama, parks)
• you do things with your kids, rather than sending them out to play in the yard
• teens don't need a car
• teens aren't riding with other teens who may be reckless, drunk, or newly minted drivers
• navigating the city makes them resourceful---not going to be unnerved anywhere else
• kids as young as 9 years old can take themselves to their own dental and allergist appointments, music lessons, playmates (Nine years old? I don't think so)
• you are able to process the sinfulness of the world, which is up close and visible in the city, with your children; they aren't shielded from it until just as they are leaving home and you are no longer as much an influence in their lives.
• sin is more visible and salvation more plausible in the city

General

• airline prices are cheaper to/from larger cities; fewer transfers
• closer to ministry opportunities, especially diverse groups, the poor, ethnic communities (instead of traveling many miles to reach a people group); virtually all people groups are in the city
• less expensive for getaways; can travel by subway to a new neighborhood or a cultural enclave for a change of pace; so many unique experiences close at hand
• easier to reach the suburbs from the city center than to reach the city center from the suburbs
• accessibility to the best of the best in: professional sports, cultural interests (museums, lectures), entertainment (theatre, music, improv), educational opportunities/options, shopping, influencers in every field, restaurants, medical care

Tulips

I love tulips. I'm from Florida and tulips don't bloom there - at least, not ordinarily - because the weather doesn't get cold enough. So, tulips have never been on my radar. I first developed a love for tulips when G sent a bouquet of tulips to my workplace for our first Valentine's. It came in a box packed with bags of ice slurry, complete with flower food and a vase. It was even more special because G was living in South America and I was in the US with absolutely no expectations of celebrating Valentine's with my long-distance boyfriend. At work, I was given a long box while helping a customer and I absently thought it was a package of work materials. When the customer left, I opened the box and there were beautiful, perfect red tulips nestled in the box from my love. You just have to imagine my utter surprise. It was better than getting roses. So, since then, I've loved tulips and look forward to every spring when tulips bloom. I had a June wedding and was disappointed when I couldn't get tulips for my bridal bouquet.

We went out of town over the weekend on a jet plane and I was reading the airline magazine. I was surprised to discover the tulips originally came from Central Asia. I always thought it originated in northern Europe and Holland just had a mad and slightly odd hobby of growing tulips. I say slightly odd because of the grand scale of their obsession with tulips. Ever see those enormous fields of tulips? The Latin name for tulips comes from the Turkish word for "turban," which apparently the flower resembles. Tulips were cultivated in gardens in my host country well before the 16th century. Fancy that. I'm in a region where one of my favorite flowers came from! The red tulips are decorated on ceramics here and is a symbol associated with my host country.

How did tulips get to Europe? Some dude from Europe saw them growing in Constantinople in middle of 1500s and got some bulbs or seeds. The earliest description of tulips growing in Europe was late 1500s. This is about when tulips had arrived in Holland. "Tulip mania" started in both Holland and my host country about 1630s so bulbs were highly coveted and sold for incredible prices and fortunes were made and lost in speculating in tulip bulbs! How crazy is that? (I did a simple Google search on the history of tulips so if you want in-depth info, just do the same).

So, the reason I am posting about this is that I've wanted to share things about this country, its culture, history, and interesting things. I was just surprised to see tulips part of the history here and they're one of my favorite flowers. When I read the airline magazine and found that it originated here, I got the idea to try growing some on my own. If it came from here, then I might have success in growing some in a pot.

I just remembered that tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Happy Valentine's Day to you!

Things I Have Learned to Make From Scratch

Tonight, G and I made chicken fajitas. I don't think I've had fajitas in over three years. I usually can't eat them in restaurants because they serve flour (read: gluten) tortillas with them. I'd never cared enough to make fajitas at home with store-bought corn tortillas, which are usually gluten-free, back when we were still in the States but a few of days ago, I saw a crockpot fajitas recipe on the Internet and it sparked in me a real craving for them. I waited until a Sunday afternoon when we're not in the usual afternoon/evening crunch with language sessions and A because I knew the preparation would take some time.

I didn't use the crockpot recipe that I mentioned above - instead, I just made it all on the stove. There were four things we've had to make from scratch for the meal, though: restaurant-style salsa, gluten-free corn tortillas, fajita seasoning, and sour cream, none of which is available here except for salsa. The salsa was a breeze to make with fresh ingredients in the food processor and since fresh cilantro isn't available here, we made do with dried cilantro from the States. The fajita seasoning was simple and I already had all the spices in my pantry. The sour cream was plain low-fat yogurt strained of whey over a few hours and with lemon juice added. It didn't taste exactly like sour cream but once it was put in the food, we couldn't tell the difference. This method of making sour cream seems to do in a pinch and we're definitely not picky

The gluten-free corn tortillas, though, cost me time in scouring the Internet for a recipe. Most recipes (gluten-free or not) call for masa harina, which I seriously doubt can be found in this country. It is traditional corn flour used in Mexico and is made of dried maize that is treated in a solution of lime and water (also known as "slaked lime" or calcium hydroxide), and then dried again and ground into flour. I searched and searched for a recipe that didn't use masa harina and finally stumbled on a recipe that uses plain cornmeal and flour. I had to adapt the recipe to make it gluten-free. Corn tortillas are very simple and easy to make. You can also cut up the tortillas into triangles, fry them, and there you have it...tortilla chips! I plan to do that tomorrow night because we have plenty of salsa left over. Chips and salsa is my favorite snack. Tortilla chips can be found here (sometimes) but they cost a pretty penny for such a small amount. It costs me just pennies to make the tortillas. I think I win.

You may think we're crazy for going to all that trouble but it took no time at all to cook from scratch. It's better than just going without and we can enjoy delicious meals this way. When there is a will, there is a way.

I was thinking earlier tonight at how much more I cook from scratch now, mainly because of my celiac disease and more so now because of living overseas. I was the "cook and bake from the box" kind of girl and went the pre-packaged route all the way. I remember the first time we made BBQ sauce from scratch. I was utterly surprised because it never occurred to me that stuff in bottles and boxes at the store could be made yourself at home! Just the other night, I made pesto from scratch. When it comes to Italian dishes, I prefer pesto with pasta than tomato sauce. Pesto takes less than 2 minutes to make and infinitely cheaper than store-bought. I make ranch dressing from scratch, too. I've had to make my own evaporated milk a few times. There is a number of things I've made from scratch that I would not have done in the States.

On another note, we bought a bread machine from a fellow celiac who was moving back to the States. It's nice to eat bread again and we're still testing different bread recipes. Friends who came to visit a month ago brought their flour mill that they no longer needed and plus bags of different grains (teff, sorghum, millet, flaxseed, etc) and beans (fava beans, etc) to grind into flour. They are living in an area which, from their description, I called "celiac heaven" because almost all the different flours a celiac would use can be found there. With the grinder, I will also be able to grind brown rice and chickpeas which are in plenty here.

Grinding my own flour is definitely going the "make from scratch" route. Cooking's not my favorite and if I wasn't a celiac and living overseas, you bet your bottom dollar I'd never make anything from scratch. It's amazing how life can dramatically change your choices and the way you live.