Community Meal

It's time to take a break from fevered knitting for my next yarn bombing.  I've had a couple blog ideas rolling around the last couple weeks, and those ideas coupled with a little bit of guilt for not being more proactive in writing mean I am finally sitting down to write!

We've just had the pleasure of having one of my brothers and his family here for a stay, which means that pictures actually were taken which will help illustrate a few things.

What I want to write about today is a topic that I've probably mentioned on here before:  our church's monthly Community Meal.  On the last Thursday of every month, a group of us cook a big meal that is open to whomever walks in the door.  The meal, which started 17 years ago, has apparently gone through many phases, but the core value has remained the same:  open the doors to the church and have a cheap meal with neighbours.  We all know food brings people together.

I was so excited to get plugged into this outreach when we arrived in London -- many of you know that I like cooking and baking, especially in large quantities.  I have not been disappointed in the opportunity to cook in the spacious church kitchen and know that (usually) if you make it, they will come.

Usually, at some point during the meal, a box is taken around by one of the youth to collect donations to help cover the costs of the meal.  We typically ask adults to contribute £2 per meal.  Sometimes people put in more, sometimes people put in nothing.  Most months, all of our costs are covered, and we have the capital to purchase food for the next month. 

This month, however, we put the box out with the food -- unintentionally, perhaps, making the donation-giving even more anonymous (assuming that the kids who normally take it around aren't keeping track of what people put in.)  We came out even further ahead than normal, and it reminded me very much of the dream I've had over nearly the last decade of having a pay-what-you-will cafe.  (Yes, I'm aware that many already exist.)  And I realised that this is basically what we are doing, though on a more industrial scale (feeding between 60-80 people on an average month lately, though sometimes up to 100+), and on a very set occasion (1x a month).  But, coming to that realisation that I'm living a variation on my long-held dream was and is incredibly rewarding.  Sometimes we don't see that the things we had planned long and hard for and thought we had to put off for a time, end up happening in their own way and time.

This is not to say that I hereby relinquish my hopes of having a 5-day-a-week food establishment at some point in my life -- but, rather, here I am, seeing proof that these schemes do work, and that making good food for people can inspire neighbourly generosity.

Dancin'!

I had to share this fun evening we had on Friday, supporting a friend who is going to Rio to volunteer with the Street Child World Cup.  What we in the U.S. might call a "barn dance" is more often referred to as a ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee).  I didn't get the info on if there are always stage lights and such, but, really, a great time!

Justin worked on the bar for the evening, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and I womanned the food side (though I didn't make it all!)  So much fun to watch, and I look forward to finding another one that we can just go and enjoy! :)

Coming up this week, a visit from one of my brothers, his wife, and their son whom I've not yet met!  This spring is busy with full and fun times for us!

A piece of our work

Community work is so incredibly open-ended that I've felt very comfortable calling my time spent on crocheting and knitting for various projects "Work."  Like some qualitative jobs, I have to be content with never knowing how my "Work" is received, and whether or not it gains the desired affect.

Last Friday, Valentine's Day, I hit out early to randomly pepper our neighbourhood with pieces of my "Work" -- specifically small crocheted hearts with a tag saying, "you are loved" on each one.  In walking around later that day, and in the days since, I haven't seen a single one still out where I put them, which, I think, means we can safely assume that at least a few went to good homes.  But, really, I'll never know.

Still here, still scheming

In winter, a woman's thoughts turn to keeping warm and dreaming about the spring.  At least, mine do.  In my case, that means a mixture of making things (be it crocheted granny squares or fig and almond biscotti...), and trying to think how they might be used in a more public sense once we've all come out of our shells.

I've been inspired by three things lately, which have fed into my scheming.

The first is coming across the founder of the Craftivist Collective and taking a workshop with her to learn about more the craftivist idea (the melding of craft and activism) and to explore my own "footprint" as I dream about a more equal world (and my place in it).

The second was a Christmas gift from a friend -- the River Cottage Veg cookbook.  While you would often find me in the kitchen anyway, I go through long phases of cooking where I don't use recipes, and frankly, it makes the menu-planning process so much easier when you've got a book in front of you with convincing photos.  It's been a great resource for cooking for potlucks, cooking for when we have guests, cooking for others with new babies, etc.  It's inspired me/us to be even more excited about extending hospitality!

The third relates a little to the first: the aforementioned granny squares.  The truth is that I taught myself (thanks to the internet) last week how to crochet granny squares.  Ever since, I can't stop...Well, except yesterday when I didn't do any, but did manage to place an order for 2.2kg/nearly 5lbs worth of yarn.  This craftivism talk has gotten my mind thinking again to yarn bombing and thinking specifically of how to use yarn bombing to engage a little bit more in community, in addition to thinking about considering particular events to plan a yarn bombing around.  (I'm more than open to ideas and suggestions.)

Baby Investment.

Well, we've been on the MMN payroll for over a year now, and are just a few weeks short of a year on the ground in Hackney.  In typical bureaucratic fashion, that means we're starting (well, finishing, really) our annual reports, both reflecting back on 2013 and making (hopefully) reasonably-sized dreams for 2014.  Writing these is both easier and harder than what I imagined...But regardless, it helps to set the tone for a new year with a plan for a few new dreams.

Meanwhile, we remain very aware of our financial and prayer supporters back home...and not because they're peering over our shoulders, checking our receipts for how we're spending their generous donations. :)  Rather the opposite, really.

Many of you will know that this past Monday was Epiphany -- the day Christians celebrate the journey, visit, and gift of the three wise men to Jesus and his family.  Sunday evening, at our contemplative service at church, we took time to meditate on the extraordinary gifts the wise men brought, and the ordinary ways (the adult) Jesus gave to those around him.

A particular piece of the story of the wise men struck me.  One could surmise that this was a trip of a lifetime for the wise men.  There's no other mention of them in the New Testament, returning to meet the grown Jesus.  No, these men came when Jesus was very little, gave gifts of astounding financial worth, and then left for Joseph, Mary, and Jesus to get on with what they all needed to do.  The wise men invested in a baby.  (I'm guessing most financial advisers today would think this a preposterous idea.)

In a very similar way, we feel like there's a parallel here between Jesus' story and our own.  We have churches who have met us once, before we even left for England, and supported us willingly and generously.  People who barely know us invested in us and our work before we'd even proven we'd get a reasonable return.

Like Mary, we are humbled by that, and we treasure the gifts and prayers immensely.  And we hope we end up giving back even a smidgen of what we feel Jesus gave to the world when he was about our age, walking through the Middle East.

Thanks again for your support this last year!  We cannot say it enough.

Christmas in the Shire

And by the Shire, I do mean England...London to be precise.  Though, I can imagine some of Tolkien's hobbits would have loved the Christmas we've been whipping up in the kitchen these last days.

Justin, inspired by a need to feed the masses at a carol service, signed his name on the line for two dozen mince pies.  I did the shopping, made many helpful suggestions, and rolled up my sleeves to help on the assembly line...but Justin took charge of finding recipes, mixing the mince by hand, and then mixing the crust.  The proof of the pudding is in the pictures!

 

The pies turned out splendidly, though dwarfed the other mince pies they found themselves next to...We blame it on our North American dietary habits...Justin also mixed up some brown sugar brandy butter, after hearing one of our favourite cooking show hosts (Mary Berry) rave about her love of brandy butter.  Nice combo, but you'll start to see a pattern with Brits and their brandy...

 Today, in preparation for tomorrow's Christmas dinner with friends, we were assigned two more dishes that we were completely unfamiliar with:  bread sauce and brandy sauce.  The jury is still out, but we're hoping that what we've made is what is expected to be brought... :)

Bread sauce on the left; Brandy sauce on the right

Justin getting back into green coffee bean roasting!

 Merry Christmas to all!

Highlights

Highlight from last night's Youth and Mentor night with people from church -- watching A Christmas Story (for my 100th time) with a group who had never watched it.  Even with a bit of a delay getting the film started, and slightly choppy internet stream, I was so pleased with the consistent peals of laughter throughout Ralphie's story.  As we say in our neck of the woods, "A good time was had by all."



A few other highlights from the last month or so...

Justin and I went north to Windermere in the Lake District for a conference on the United Reformed Church (for whom we work.)  We tacked on a few extra days to see the sights and do a bit of hiking in the "mountains."  It was beautiful.

Shortly thereafter, Justin turned 30.  This ended up entailing such risky behaviours as trying the old Menthos-in-Coke trick, which Justin got whole-heartedly into...as evidenced by the drill being out to make holes in the Menthos for stringing together...Use your imagination for the rest.  (Or look on YouTube for videos of how it turns out.)

Life then morphed into a whirlwind with a lovely visit from my parents.  Our time ranged from taste-testing several scones to practising our audio-tour techniques in places like Westminster Abbey, Windsor Castle, and Bath.

As these things go, all good things must come to an end.  We're getting back into the swing of work, but present now in this unique season of Advent.  It is strange how our connection to the season is a bit stunted this year, even with working for a religious institution that champions Advent.  Perhaps it is the different location, away from normal traditions with family, and choosing not to "invest" in Christmas-y decor since we're only here for two Christmases.  There will be no lemon tree with a string of lights and a couple ornaments in our room, no long hours at the bakery, rolling out thousands of Christmas tree-shaped sugar cookies, no sledding down the hill in the field behind the house.  There will be mince pies and mulled wine, attempting to stay up for the midnight Christmas Eve service, and enjoying the company of fine friends on Christmas Day.  I've gotten to share one of my traditions -- watching A Christmas Story -- and will surely share more in the coming days.  When good things come to an end, other good things can get started.

Show me what you've got, Christmas 2013.