Spookie, Beulah, and Guylo watched my every move and were very eager to be taste testers. They were ready to chase every nut that fell to the floor, bat my skirt as I walked by, and endure being stepped on a lot, all for the sake of helping me. I'd rather have Gloria to help.
We are still in Vryheid, staying with Gerrie and Rika Ploos van Amstel, who are the parents of our wonderful scheduler, Lizelle. We decided to have a proper American Thanksgiving, and they were eager to have one, so we did the turkey, sweet potato casserole, pecan pies, and the gravy. It was the gravy that stressed me out! I'm not good at it, and haven't made any in years. Gloria does the gravy, and hers is delicious. I probably even lost sleep over that gravy. I considered a package mix, but that's a shame when you've got all those lovely drippings.
I'd like to say I conquered that gravy, but I caved in and yelled, "Darling!" when it wasn't thickening too well, and Paul came and added corn flour til it gelled nicely. Phew!
We had a nice time fellowshipping as we feasted, and everyone seemed to like everything. We went around telling what we are thankful for. Several people mentioned the pecan pie. No one mentioned the gravy. After that we took a long walk to settle the food.
I also don't want to forget a few other things, like the time I heard doors slamming and ran out into the hall yelling, "Joshua, I told not to slam the doors!" and it was Gerrie who can slam his own doors whenever he likes. Oops. One should really not shout at their host.
I've wondered if our GPS gets occasional bouts of demon possession. As Paul tried to get to one school, the GPS led him over dirt roads, grass trails, and through a remote Zulu village filled with staring, wondering people, but never did get him to the school. How do we punish a rebellious GPS? He did finally arrive, over 40 minutes late, and was still able to preach.
Tomorrow Paul is to preach twice more, and we have to pack, but today we're just thankful we don't have to move too much more.