I had to go to a store in Aurora to return something, and on the way back I was planning on hitting up a grocery store to buy supplies for dinner, which I was planning to make later that day (chicken pot pie, another post, another day).  Anyway, there I was, driving down IL-59, looking out for Aurora Ave to make a left turn, when there it was.  On the horizon like a beautiful tree with red apples.  Only the apples were letters, and it spelled out…

I pulled into the parking lot so fast I didn’t even turn my indicator on! I was so happy, it was a little pathetic and weird.

I went into the store and to my surprise its layout was almost identical to the one on 8 Mile and Haggerty.  This made the moment even more exciting!  I already knew where everything was.  It was almost as if I was back at home, cruising down the lanes, picking up what I needed and calling ammi to double check if I had everything.  In fact, I did call home… to ummy and asked her if she wanted baby carrots.  There was a good deal going on for a 1-lb bag.  Also, Doritos were on sale, BOGO!  I picked up two Nacho Cheese bags, and imagined taking them home to Fati.  But then I remembered I was in Illinois, so I put one back and picked up a Cool Ranch bag for Waasiq instead.

My trip wasn’t very long, but it was extremely satisfying.  I’m already thinking up excuses to go back.  It’s “only” a fifteen minute drive away.  I wonder when I’ll go there again?

Wednesday morning Saqib dropped me off at the Metra station in downtown Lisle and I took a train to Union Station downtown to get on another Amtrak train to Ann Arbor.  I was a little nervous about using “so many” trains to get to my destination, because public transportation makes me nervous.  The schedules, tracks, fees, and employees are generally confusing or not very helpful.  But alhumdu’lillah, I made to Ann Arbor in one piece, to be picked up by my bhabi.

Wow, what a driver.  Hunno really knows how to make good time.  She picked me up right when I stepped off the train, and we were off to the grocery store before I knew it.  We had to pick up a few items for ammi who was waiting for me back at home.  Hunno, who wanted to make good time, managed to pick me up, stop at the store and get me home all within one hour.  Impressive, wouldn’t you say?

Once I got there the three of us shared a pizza and hung out in the kitchen.  Slowly it turned into nap time and I got to make myself at home in my mommy’s bed.  I was OUT cold so fast I didn’t even know what was happening.  Ammi woke me up about 2 hours later, Hunno was gone, and Fati and abbu were home.  Yaaay, Fati!!!

We ata kaana together and then just wasted time in the basement.  Ah, the good old days.  Fati doing fat-kwon-do, watching Scrubs, and me not doing anything.  Here and there I helped ammi clean up the basement and pack up some presents for a party she was having on Friday night.  The evening ended with me making magic bars for Fati, which were, unfortunately, another batch of tragic bars.  They turned out to be too too sweet and kinda mushy.  The ones I made for Osman on Monday were much better in my opinion.

Thursday morning I got to work with Hunno cleaning up our house, vacuuming and dusting.  Once we finished up all of that, we headed to the mall to do some last minute shopping for a party I was going to on Saturday night.  This party was the main purpose of my trip to MI.  One of my oldest and bestest friends is getting married this summer.  So on Friday night my parents threw her parents a pre-congratulatory party, and on Saturday night two of our friends threw her a bridal shower.  All very fun, but more on that later.

The mall was fun, just ‘cuz it was Hunno + Ayesha + shopping… hilarity ensues.  Why can’t we act like normal people when we’re together?  I don’t know.  We ran into one of my friends at the mall.  She was with her older sister.  Big sis nudged little sis to tell me something important… and she did.  My friend is expecting!!!  This is extremely exciting because she’s the first of my 6 OG friends that is having a baby!  May Allah make these months easy for her, and bless her with a righteous, pious, healthy baby.   I guess we’re coming out of that phase where we’re all getting married, and now entering the realm of parenthood.  Yowza!

Back at home I took a nap, woke up, and met up with some other old-school friends, who are literally old… school… friends.  I met Karen and Bonnie at Guernsey’s for some good old fashioned ice cream.  I love Guernsey’s because it will never change.  It always smells like fried chicken, it’s always employed with high schoolers from Novi and Northville, and it’s always packed with bushy haired old people.  I had so much fun with Karen, yucking it up about the good old days, and catching up on the recent days.  It’s so nice to have a friend you can revisit and pick up right where you left off.

When I got home I ate kaana with my parents.  Then I got to work on making dessert for my parents’ party on Friday night.  I had to make it the night before because it requires some quality time in the freezer.  I took vanilla ice cream, peanut butter and cool whip and mixed them together.  I poured it into a prepared graham cracker crust and let it freeze.  The next day I added cool whip and crushed snickers, and voila… peanut butter ice cream pie. It’s so easy and it’s sooooo good.  Try it out sometime

Friday morning I woke up and took my dad to see the doctor.  He had to get an out-patient treatment done to his foot.  Poor abba seems to have a tough time with his feet.  May Allah make his pain an expiation for any punishment in the next life, ameen.

When we got home I passed out in bed and emerged from my room at 11:00AM.  I got to work with ammi and Hunno in the kitchen, who were busy trying to make a pasta dish, and trying to keep three separate recipes straight.  I chopped up some salad and also cleaned the bathrooms… not at the same time, thank God

After eating a lunch of jam-bread and left over pasta, Hunno and I set out to run some more errands with a bad case of the giggles.  We had to drop off donation clothes, pick up some kaana, and get the oil changed in Hunno’s car.  I was convinced that with Hunno’s good timing, we could be home in 20 minutes.  Unfortunately, the drive to Canton took up most of our time.  We still made it home in time for her to take a nap before ammi and abbu’s party.

Which, speaking of, was awesome!  It was all of ammi’s closest friends and some of my favorite aunties.  I miss them so much when I’m in Illinois.  Every time I go to a dawath, or a wedding, I miss seeing their caring and smiling faces.  I guess it’ll take some time before the aunties here know me as well as the ones in MI do.  Most of them have known me since I was born, so I’m guessing in about… 23 more years we’ll be able to compare the new aunties to the old ones.  But, who knows?

Saturday I spent the morning at home, but then in the afternoon went to Dearborn to get my haircut with two of my friends.  It’s always so much fun with Allu pea and Shoaa   Especially if Heba is there to be bugged and picked on   They’re my favorite girls.

Shoaa dropped me off back at home and then I got ready to go to Ayesha’s bridal shower… which was even more awesome than the party on Friday night.  All 6 of my OG friends in one place, at one time.  This hasn’t happened since… I don’t remember the last time, honestly.  Ayesha, Humaira, Zaiba, Aliyah, Lubna and Shoaa, all excited and happy for Ayesha’s wedding, and all having a good time.  We were acting so goofy together and having so much fun.  I felt like I was 17 again or something.  Nothing can beat an evening with all of your oldest and closest friends.

I got home pretty late on Saturday and woke up early on Sunday to eat breakfast with Lubna.  She came over and I made pancakes, omelettes/scrambled eggs, and hash browns.  Conversation with Griswaldi is always too much fun.  I think my family loves her just as much as I do.  My parents appreciate her punjabiness, and Fati appreciates her humor and intelligence, and I appreciate all of it!

After she left, Fati and I packed up and shipped out to Illinois.  She’ll be here until Wednesday.  We drove straight to Osman’s and stayed for dinner.  Hunno had made a whole middle-eastern spread of food.  Shawarmas, fatoush, hummous, garlic sauce, tahini sauce, and the regular sides: wings and fries.  All so good, too many choices!  I stuck with a lamb shawarma and two wings.  I was full when I left early because the weather was horrendous last night.  Thirty-two degrees, just the right temperature for a wintery-mix of snow and rain.  It took us a full hour to get home, and the car slid twice just on Leask lane, yikes!

And thus ended my Spring break… with a snow storm.  So typical!

Whenever I see all those colors together, I always think of something my abbu pointed out to me once a road trip.  There are so many different colors, different shades, different tints of green, red, yellow, orange and brown, yet they all look so beautiful together.  Truly, Allah creates everything perfectly.

Saturday morning the fall-fun didn’t end.  After breakfast and just before lunch, we loaded up the car and headed down to Parmenter’s Cider Mill in downtown Northville.

The view from Old Baseline Rd.

I remember this place from when I was little and ammi took us.  It hasn’t changed much at all.  There’s still a fudge hut, and there are still a ton of bees and wasps flying around.  Cider and donuts are sold inside the barn, and there are still only two varieties of each:  cold or hot cider, spiced or plain donuts.

I was really looking forward to drinking the cider.  I had had some in Illinois, but to be honest, it just wasn’t the same.  The cider I had in IL tasted like sour apple juice.  The cider from this mill… it literally tasted like I was biting into an apple.  The taste was *fresh* and *crisp* like it had just been made.  And I’m pretty sure it had.  While I was waiting in line to buy the gallon of cider, there was a boy that kept coming from behind a door in the barn, with more and more gallons.  They were literally churning the cider in the back and selling it off right away.

The “spiced” donuts were covered in cinammon and sugar.  The sugar was crunchy and the cinnamon just right.  The consistency of the donuts was perfect:  cakey, not too thick, not too stretchy, not fluffy, not hard, just cakey.  Yummm… I want some now!

We picked up a bushell of jonagold apples on our way out, and later that night ammi made apple pie!  She added pecans, caramel, butter, cinnamon and a bunch of other “fall-flavors” to the apples and baked it all in a pastry sheet.  It was really good with some ice cream.

My new desktop background

Caramels, cinnamon, apples and pastry sheets, yummmmm!!

 Alhumdu’lillah, I’m happy the fall is here.  There are so many wonderful things (besides food… maybe) that this season has to offer.  What are some of your fall favorite activities?  Watching football?  Baking?  Wearing sweaters and bundling up?

 
Click the picture above.

I was a little anxious to go to an AlMaghrib class in Illinois because I’ve only been attending them in Michigan and Canada.  My tribe, Qabeelat Ittihaad holds classes in both Dearborn and Windsor.  I’ve grown accustomed to the people, the set up, the lunches, the dinners, etc.  I wasn’t sure how they did things here in Chicago in Qabeelat Wasat.

I figured the transition would be interesting considering I didn’t really know anyone here, but… I did!  There were over 50 people from Ittihaad attending the seminar in Chicago!  It was like my Qabeelat came from Michigan to hold my hand and send me off to a new tribe.

It was so refreshing to and comforting to take a class with my mom, Mariam, the Fahmy’s, etc and at the same time adjust to another mom, and new girls from Illinois.  I could easily go from one person to the next, without feeling uncomfortable.  And now that I’ve had the chance to get to know some faces from Wasat, insha’Allah at the next class, without the Ittihaadi’s, I’ll be okay to fly solo.

What’s the point of this post?  Just saying thanks to the Ittihaadis for driving down 4+ hours to Chicago.  I know you didn’t come for me, but rather the knowledge; but it still felt like you all came to hold my hand.  Jazakullah khair.

Qabeelat Ittihaad– I heart you!

I can’t describe how sad I am to leave my home because there are too many things I love about it.  But I think I can at least try to describe the many reasons I love my own room and why I will subsequently miss it.

Let me first start by mentioning that my room wasn’t always just my room.  I started off living in my house sharing my room with my sister.  Our walls were peach and our carpet was pink.  We were the two little girls of our family “peacefully” co-existing in a girls’ playworld…. shyea right!

Fati and I used to fight… a lot.  And without ruining the izzath of my sister and myself, I’ll leave it at that.  Actually, I’ll mention there is a dent on the right wall of the room from a platform shoe I’ve thrown at her.

Time in our room wasn’t always spent quarreling.  We used to have two twin beds in our room and they were perfectly spaced apart.  This “negative” space in the room was just right for creating a tunnel system if there were sheets pulled over the surface of the beds and the furniture.  I don’t know how else to describe it, but Fati used to make tunnels for me and my brother to crawl through and find gems, jewels and other assorted treasures.

Anyway, after Fati moved out to go to college, when I was a sophomore in high school,  ammi and abbu surprised me with new furniture and basically in the processed ousted my sister to the room down the hall.  I felt very nervous having a room of my own, because for many years my sister had told me that there were vampires in the closet.  I always believed her and also assumed that if they were to attack us at night, then they would either go for her first, or she would protect me if they came at me.

In my room, the bed was positioned to face the window which shows the backyard.  I learned to truly admire the Southern exposure my room had from this.  I get direct sunlight every morning which essentially makes my room an oven.  Sometimes when I wake up in the morning and open my bedroom door and cold draft comes in because my room is that much hotter than the rest of the house.

My room has always been a place for me to nestle myself in my bed and leave all my cares behind.  I remember days of trying to get through Madame Bovary, AP Biology, AP Calc, Honors English 9 reading and the like, never trying hard enough, and passing out on the floor.

I also remember the days when I would run up there and endlessly gab away with friends and cousins.  For sure during each family dawaath Mariam and I always make it a necessity to retreat to my room and talk and talk and talk and talk.  I’ll miss that about my room, it was always a place for me to ramble on and on and on.

I know my next room will be where I build a new life, but I know I’m going to miss the room where I built my first foundation.  The room down the hall from Fati, next to Osman, across the hall from bathroom, and next to my parents.  I like to think that the position of my room is analogous to my position in the family… I’m right in the middle of everyone, and I like being “hugged” by them when I sleep.

*sigh* I heart you, my room.

What felt like almost everyday, ammi and I would go to Meijer when I was a little kid.  And whenever she would pay for groceries, she would quickly plop me down on the pony, drop in a penny, and let me have a “wild ride”.  Despite the fact that this pony only went back forth at a rate of 1/2 a mile per hour, I thought it was unbelievably fun.

I’ve been going to the same Meijer since then, which was 1989.  I know every aisle and every product, and I even know some of the employees (by face and name, but not personally).  I can zip through the longest grocery list in less than 20 minutes because I know this store like the back of my hand.

It’s not that I blindly love all Meijer stores;  I only love mine–nestled on the corner of 8 mile and Haggerty.  I’ve been to others in the area, and I feel like I’m in the twilight zone because I’m totally thrown off by the layout of the aisles.  I am strictly a Northville Meijer girl.  And now I will be leaving my precious Meijer and going to the land of Jewel Osco, Dominick’s and Aldi.

I’m sad to say goodbye to my Meijer.  We’ve been through a lot– from endless party supplies to school supplies, grocery lists to late night munchies with cousins, I’ve spent a lot of hours within those walls.

Northville Meijer … I heart you

There were moments I felt like I had been teaching for decades and the school year would never come to an end.  But now I feel like I’ve hardly spent anytime with my students and now the end is approaching at lightning speed.

Where did the time go and how did I spend it?  I’m really worried that I didn’t teach my students properly, that I’ve jipped them of a proper education.  What if my Algebra students go on to the next class and still can’t factor properly?  What if my Biology students don’t remember how the heart pumps blood because I didn’t teach it clearly enough?  What if my 4th graders can’t remember how to convert between mixed numbers and mixed fractions?

I’m worried I didn’t do a good job with them and that I haven’t left enough of an impact on them.  Sure they tell me I’m their favorite teacher now, but what about next year?  Will they forget Sr. Ayesha and start to adore whichever teacher is chewing their ears off 5 days a week then?  I know it’s a stupid concern to have, but I don’t want my students to forget me and the things I’ve taught them.

I know I won’t forget them or any of the things they’ve taught me.  I’ve learned so many things from each of them, especially the little ones– how to have nonstop hardcore patience, how to be ready for anything, how to answer all the what-ifs in Islamic Studies, how to prioritize, how to keep my own feelings and emotions out of their problems, how to be a stronger person.

At the beginning of the year I thought I would die everyday at school.  I was hit with work from every angle and I could never imagine that I would one day be able to manage everything.  Working at this school has taught me that with a little bit of time, and a lot of dedication and committment, I can actually do the tasks I’m set out to do.  I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s true.

I’m going to miss this school a lot and it’s constant influx of pizza for hot lunch; the crowded high school hall ways with the same 10-15 girls; the kindergarten kids running up to you and grabbing your knees for a hugg; rearranged schedules atleast one day a week; smiling faces of parents who appreciate your work; chit chatting with the other teachers in the lounge; feeling the commotion and excitement of Jumuah every single Friday; laughing and sharing stories with my students; playing Mancala and Uno during recess; and goofing around with the 4th grade just like I’m one of them.

*sigh*  Michigan Islamic Academy, I heart you.

The very fact that I can hit the road and know exactly which direction I’m heading in, which street I’m going to cross, which store is going to come up on the right, which pretty house is on the upcoming corner, which gas station is cheapest, which highway exit I should take, how to avoid traffic, what is a better construction detour is something that I think I may have taken for granted.

There are specific roads I am going to miss the most. Call me crazy, but I-96 (the Jeffries Fwy) is my favorite highway. I could drive down that highway blindfolded and make it out okay. In fact, I might as well have on numerous occasions driving back from UM-Dearborn after a horrendous exam where my eyes were so filled with tears I couldn’t see a thing anyway. Mariam’s right, driving to Dearborn my mind is on autopilot.

My other favorite road is Six Mile, heading east between Sheldon and Haggerty. I just think it’s so pretty after you cross Northville Rd and you come up around the bend near Meads Mill. The site of those trees just warms my heart. Obviously because I live on Six Mile, but also because everytime I went out of town, when I saw that bend, I knew we were almost home.

Since I was little, I would always stare out the car window at street names going by memorizing which stores we had passed, which side of the car they were on, and how far away I was from my destination. I never trusted anyone driving (save maybe abbu) if we were to get lost. I always took it upon myself to keep track of wherever I was, and now it’s a nasty habit that has turned into obsession.

I am *nervous* beyond measure to drive in another state. Because if I don’t know where I am at all times, which cardinal direction I’m facing, and how to get around if I’m lost, I get *really* anxious.

*sigh* Michigan roads, I heart you!

First there was Michigan basketball in the early 90s. You know what I’m talking about.

The Fab Five

This, I think, lead my family straight into University of Michigan obsession. After the time-out fiasco, we switched from basketball to Michigan football, and since then it has been a fixture in my house. Each and every fall, on Saturday afternoons, our TV was tuned into ABC to watch some college football. And even if I wasn’t watching it as intensely as Osman or Fati, I was enjoying every bit of it. It is something else to see your brother and sister, year after year, almost have an aneurysm over a game and continue to come back to the same team that they “hate” and get “fed up” with the next year.

The Red Wings also made a cameo in our house from the late 90s to around 2002. Saturday nights meant Hockey Night in Canada with this lunatic:

He’s great with a slice of pizza

I got to experience the fun of three Stanley Cups and watching my brother set off the car alarms in celebration. I don’t think I ever really figured out all the rules of hockey, BUT I did know all the names of the Russians on our team, and that’s enough to count for me.

And last but not least, we have the Detroit Pistons. They are my *favorite* team to watch at a sporting event. Every year abbu manages to get tickets from work to a playoffs game and I usually manage to go with him. The thrill of pulling up to the Palace of Auburn Hills, finding your seats, grabbing some popcorn, smashing together thunder sticks and yelling at the top of your lungs “DEEEEEE-TROIT BAAAAAASKET-BALL” is something that I *know* I won’t get in Illinois.

But who knows? Maybe I’ll become a Bulls fan and start watching the Bears?

Chyea right. Michigan sports, I heart you

I know for most of my life I thought life in Northville… forget that, life in Michigan was boring and mundane at best. But now that I have to leave this little town in Southeast Michigan nestled between 5 & 8 Mile, I am sad.

So to commemorate my time… or rather my life in Michigan, I will be periodically posting about all the things that I love about life in Michigan.

—————————————-

Two weeks ago I was in Illinois during my Spring Break running some wedding errands with my husband. This was I think… my fifth time visiting him where he lives since our marriage in November of 2006. I’m adjusting well, (I think–alhumdu’lillah) with his family and the surrounding area. But there is one place where I think I feel the most awkward and isolated. It’s also the worst place to have this feeling: at the masjid.

Now you may be wondering how could I feel that way when I go to a masjid? Well, it’s simple: I don’t know a single person! Not one face is recognizable or comforting. And compared to where I grew up, that is a major change and it isn’t one I’m taking easily.

I have had the great fortune of being raised in one of the most wonderful communities of Southeast Michigan. I have been a proud member of MCWS since it’s beginnings in 1988. I grew up at my masjid on the corner of Palmer Rd and Haggerty. I know all the auntys and uncles, and they all know me. I know all their kids, their kids’ spouses, and even their kids’ kids. I’ve attended Sunday School there, YMFA, thursday halaqas, weekend seminars and fundraising dinners. I’ve prayed tarawih year after year after year in the masjid with the beige and brown carpet, the masjid with the maroon cloth divider, the masjid that was expanded, the masjid that was a classroom, and the masjid where I got married. I’ve run up and down the rows and played batman, football with a closed pair of socks, frozen tag, TV tag, ball tag, and every other tag you can think of. I’ve walked to the drinking fountain with friends, giggled in the wudu room, and roamed the parking lots well after maghrib. I’ve sat on the sidewalks outside and in the corners inside during qiyams in Ramadan. I’ve cooked in the kitchen, I’ve served food at the tables, I’ve folded up chairs, and I’ve rolled out table cloth. I’ve said salaam to each and every single smiling face and actually known who I was talking to. I’ve loved that masjid with every part of my heart and I am sad I have to leave.

I know that I will adjust to a new community, and I’ll make new friends and new memories. But the ones I have from MCWS are ones I will cherish and think about everytime I go to a masjid in Illinois.

MCWS, I heart you.