Avocado Ice Cream

Over the years, my body has adapted to many different types of foods. Foods that I swore that I would never try. But, with every promise, there is a flaw. Because the second we moved out of our house in Colorado, it was the first second that would change my life, my friends, and my eating habits. Okay, maybe not that second, but, still, you get the picture.

However, when my sister Erin presented to me an idea for a substitute for ice cream, I "Bahffed" it off, saying nothing could replace ice cream. I was wrong. She had made two different types of ice cream that day. Chocolate and Lime. When my eyes feasted upon the chocolate, I gasped in shock. It was the most wonderful-looking food I'd seen in a long time. I knew then that there was always hope. 

So, from that day, I made and expanded upon the idea of avocado ice cream. Whenever I tell someone about it, usually they cringe in disgust saying, "I hate avocados". And well, I can't say I blame them. I hate plain avocados too. I can only have avocados when it's with ice cream. So, to make people understand what it looks like and such I made a video:

In this video, I used a Stick Blender. However, as I said, I've expanded upon that idea. I now use a food processor.
Over many years, my body has adapted to many foods. And avocado ice cream is one of them.

In the Midst of Destruction

  

The picture shown reminds me of two things. The paper I just wrote about 9/11. And my life. Now, I'm guessing most of you are scratching your heads, befuddled on how this picture of destruction, fire, and eruption could represent my life in Vail, AZ. Well, when I was looking on google for a good, 1800 size picture for my background, I decided to type in "New York". Well, as probably everyone does when they look up "New York", there's of course going to be a horrific picture of 9/11. And this happened to be the one. That's when that picture gave me a brilliant idea, and a brilliant name for a brilliant blog post. "In the Midst of Destruction". It made me think of the mold. Which, I'm sure, you've heard a million gazillion times in all my blog posts. But this made me think of a unique way of seeing the reason the mold was there and the reason we had to leave our house. Because without destruction, there is never hope. If there were no destruction with some person and somewhere, where would our hope be? Because whenever we experience a horrific event such as 9/11, we would never look for help. Or hope. Or God.

            9/11 changed America and the surrounding countries forever. America lost almost 3,000 lives. I guess in a way, you could say the same about the mold. Only, except the losing 3,000 lives thing. 9/11 changed my life forever, and it made me realize how much I needed that destruction and fire, and smoke, and tears, and cries. It was because I didn’t have enough hope. The reason God puts trials in our lives is because we need them (and most likely deserve them). And when he does, he knows that we’ll look to him when it happens to us.

                Had the mold not “attacked” me, I wouldn’t have become a Christian. It gave me hope. When I take a look at the picture shown, it reminds me of 3 things (not 2). 1.) My awful report on 9/11, 2.) My wonderful, awesome life, and 3.) Hope. Because in the midst of destruction, you’ll always find hope. No matter what the situation, God will always place that giant or tiny speck of hope in your life. All you have to do, is look for it. Just look for it... In the midst of destruction.

Valentines Day

Today was Valentines Day. And all I have to say about this holiday is that it's one that you'll remember forever. At least this one was. When emotion was flooding throughout the room, My eyes welled up with tears. Along with all the 6 girls. All of us were popping our tear jugs out. Kaitlyn is one emotional wreck that I'll never forget. Forever. The reason is because she's the closest sister I have. When I saw her cry, it reminded me of the old days when we were pals. But, that wasn't the only thing that happened. My parents danced. When I watched my parents circle with each other on the "dance floor", I thought of something. I thought of how my life has changed over the years. I thought of how everything could change in the blink of an eye. My whole life, my whole world.
When they danced to a slow song and were in eachothers' embrace, sobbing, I'll admit it, my eyes began to get teary...Again. But not only was I crying because everyone else was, but I was crying because I was thinking about the house, and everything we lost. I thought about how people recognize my family as the "Christians who had mold". I wanted to be known by who I am, not how I became who I am. I want to be known as the kid who's a drummer, the kid who goes to Civano Middle School. I want people to remember this post where I mention Colin (me) Mason and Sean (the initials for Civano Middle School are CMS. The initials for Colin Mason Sean is CMS).
My life was a hard one, I'll admit it. I've had trials that I've had to push through. Trials that made me cry, that made me angry, and even ones that simply broke me down. But I believe that I've experienced all this for a reason. If I hadn't gone through this, I wouldn't have cried with my family tonight, I wouldn't have met two of the smartest people in the world, Sean and Mason. I wouldn't know my diabetic pen pal Kathryn. I wouldn't have learned how to play the drums, never would have learned that I don't need to give into the peer pressure. And I never truly would have been Colin Andrew Fabry.
All this I realized while my parents went back and forth in eachothers' embrace, crying; my sisters not holding back the tears. I realized in those few brief moments that life is not simply by chance, it's not just a thing you do and it ends. God plans it out. He knows what's going on always, he knows what you're going through and he knows what's ahead.
Today was Valentines Day. And it's one I'll never forget.

6.0

Striving. That's one of many words my family uses to describe our journey. That's also one the word I use for my A1C. "What's an A1C?" You ask. Well, it's a thing only Diabetics have to worry about. It's the average Blood Glucose rate in one or more months.
And  ever since I was diagnosed, me and my two pancreases have been striving for that number 6.0 to show up on my A1C test results. A normal person's A1C would be between 4 and 5.
When I was first told I had diabetes, I had no idea what the heck that noun meant. Of course, I was seven and a half back then and I hardly knew what the word "disease" meant, but still. But when I got more accustomed to this disease, I began to question what in the world this "A1C" meant. So after a long while listening to the long explanation the doctor, Dr. Taplin gave me, I finally understood what A1C meant. That's where the questions really began to start piling up. "What is a normal person's A1C?" "How could I make my A1C better than 10.3?" "How long will it take?"
And, of course, mothers aren't necessarily the most resourceful human beings in the world (no offence,) so all I got was a simple, "I don't know. We'll just have to take it one day at a time." Of course, I don't have any better idea of when it will happen, so I take the suggestion willingly, knowing very well that it be a long time until I would get an A1C like that.
Weeks turned into months and months turned into years until finally, after 4 long years, I, Colin Fabry, have reached 6.0 in my diabetic road, all the while traveling this black road, the Moldy road. After going from 10.3 to 9.2. An from 9.2 to 8.4; down to 7.5 and then to 7.0, I am finally at 6, the glorious 6.
I'm still traveling, I'm still going, and I'll never stop. Not until I die. Striving. That's what I'm doing. And I'll keep on striving.

Tim Hawkins

Okay, this is a very short post but, I'm working on one right now other than this one. But I just thought of  comedian you guys might like. His name is Tim Hawkins and he's a christian jokester. Here's his Youtube Channel. THANKS!!!

The Pendragon Series

The Pendragon series is by far the best book series I've ever read. D.J Machale is one of the best writer's I've heard of.
I've just recently finished the pendragon series. I started the series December 25th, and finished it February 20th. The average amount of pages in each book is about 400 pages. When I was reading it, I was reading 100 pages or more every night. No joke. Yes, no joke.
This is one of my shortest posts, but, like my left behind series "check up" this is just another "check up."
See ya'.

The Journey

We all have a journey. Whether it's good or bad, I have no idea, but, there's no other way to say it. We all have a journey.
I think that all journeys start at birth. It’s the pathway to a brand new life, therefore a pathway to a brand new journey. As a baby, the only things you think about are eating, sleeping, and every once in a while, going to the bathroom in your diapers. As you grow older, you start to think about eating sleeping, and going to the bathroom NOT in your diapers because you've been watching the dogs too much.
But once you get to a certain age, you start to go to school, to get education. After that you get to elementary, where all the kids are friendly and are easy to make friends with. Then before you know it, it comes the stage of middle school that is definite peer pressure. Or when you start to drive a car and get stuck behind this slow old grandma and grandpa (no offence to the older ones who are reading this.) Or maybe yours is like mine, tiny lessons fit in to the long and hardworking journey. These are just a few examples of journeys, mine however lies beyond the cold school brick walls filled with fish glitter paintings that you drew in 2nd grade. Far beyond.
Sure, my journey is near a school, and I went to it. But, it wasn't my school that I would remember in Colorado, it was my house. And in that house lay my memories of elementary school, on the table and scattered on the ground around the front door as we walked home from the bus stop. Sure, I can still remember the times I would get in trouble and how the lumps ever so slowly rose in my throat. Sure, I can still remember the times where I would be so proud of my smiley faces on my papers and show it to my friends, trying not to let the teacher see. But compared to the journey that involve my family and my health that lie asleep in my house, the memories of school are just a mirage of what lies behind it. Mold.

That is my journey. I know you're thinking that the journey is just fighting mold and that I'll get better soon and that a new journey will arise. But it won't. At least, not yet. I still have a long path to follow, and whether I stray to the right or left, I won't know until the occasion will pop its head up.



The good thing about a journey is that when one ends you can always count on a new one taking its place. The journey may be a long and grueling one, like the one me and my family are enduring, or it may be a short little experience that will remind you of the lesson learned that you could use in your abundant journey.



We all have a journey, there's no other way to say it. Whether it's good or bad, you and I will never know, until the journey shows you the way. The journey is your life. Be careful how you lead it, or be careful how it leads you.