Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Lack

Blogging is part of my mental health regimen. Weird. I know. Probably a bit of what I say (or a lot) drives you nearly batty. But sometimes I feel better after I'm done. 

So thanks for that. 

Today I feel a little melancholy. 

Not drag out the black beret, but. 

I know it's because I'm grieving. And that it's natural and good that I grieve. I wouldn't ask Grandma back for even a second. She is fully engaged, beyond what any of us could imagine. No eye has seen, no ear heard, no mind has imagined.  Her dim eyes and dull ears fully grasp that statement from scripture. 

She also isn't concerned about any one of us. She trusts God to work out each of our life plans. She knows that He loves us far more than she ever could, and that Jesus died for each of her loved ones, just like He did for her. She knows that the Hound of Heaven can be relentless in His pursuit of those who seek truth. 

What is driving me on the melancholy mile is the awareness that life doesn't really pause for the important moments. The world doesn't stop spinning, or quirk it's head to hear better. Grandma simply stepped out of one reality and into another leaving us with a void. 

My grandma, though she has four other granddaughters and a handful of older voiced great granddaughters always knew my voice when I called. Three quarters deaf, she knew it was me. She also knew my business. Mom did a great job of keeping her apprised of the details of my life and the next time I'd chat with her she'd know about the latest details. Some of those details were sometimes garbled with the whole hearing issue. But she knew. 

I also might be feeling this void because I've lost someone who was praying for me. Do you suppose that what I'm feeling is one less prayer being said for me? And maybe this is a reminder that when I feel a little less covered I should enter the throne room and take things to God on behalf of my loved ones.. 

I also am very aware that Grandma was a tiny hub around which our extended family rotated. My cousins, my aunt and uncles... we have one less reason to gather together. We have now entered into the zone where we need to make our relationships intentional or we will lose touch. And that makes me sad. At least once a year we'd have a get together. Not everyone was able to join. But we saw each other every few years. Now, we could just drift away from each other on the currents on our separate lives. 

What can I learn from my Grandmother's life and her death? I will keep peeling away at the layers and choose to learn. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Lovely Little Beauties...

Amazing little squashes!  I sliced them and grilled them and sprinkled a bit of sea salt on them. Amazing. A side of green beans with sesame seed, almond, nutritional yeast and garlic "Parm" was amazing as well. Veggies are the best!!!

Flowers from Grandma.

She'd have loved this arrangement. However, nothing here touches what she's seeing in heaven. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ What Did You Say???

I have always been fascinated by graphology (the study of what your handwriting tells you about your personality/life/quirks) Strange fact. I once paid to have my handwriting analyzed. And what came back (though it was oh, probably twenty years ago and I don't really remember anymore) I was surprised about some of what it showed. I remember being a little spooked by it. And I also remember rethinking a relationship or two because of an insecurity that presented itself in my handwriting. Really weird it was. One of my friends posted this handy instagraphic on her blog so I thought I'd copy her. 

Below is a picture of my handwriting, in all it's not so polished glory. First thing in the morning, no coffee enhanced neatness...a scribbly mess. What does it tell you about me?  I think I can rule out that I lied during the test and that I don't have Parkinson's or schizophrenia. So what does it say that none of my l's, e's, o's, t's or i's look the same? And I don't do cursive s's. Am I pathological?

What Does Your Handwriting Say About You? infographic

Scraps and Snippets ~ Chocolate Chip Protein Cookies

Protein and fiber filled cookies...how good can these be? Not tasty at all, right? They have to taste healthy and not even be the bit tempting. 

Wrong. 

These are so tasty I believe I'm not going to make any other version, ever. Why would I? They are satisfyingly chewy and crisp. Just enough sweet and just enough fat to make for a melt-in-your-mouthfeel. I imagine you could use another brand of protein powder with the same or similar results. I happen to sell Arbonne and am a fan of their Vegan certified protein powder. In addition these have omegas from the flaxseed and fiber from the flax, whole wheat pastry flour and oatmeal. 

Chocolate Chip Protein Cookies

350 oven. Makes approx 4 Dozen cookies

1/2 Cup coconut oil

1/4 Cup Earth Balance

1 Cup brown sugar

2 TBSP ground flax seed

1/3 Cup non-dairy milk of choice

2 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 Cup Arbonne vanilla protein powder

1 Cup oatmeal (quick or old fashioned, more texture with old fashioned)

1 Cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 Cup dark chocolate chips

Mix all together in the order listed and blend/stir well so ingredients are all incorporated. 

Chill dough for 1 hour. 

Scoop dough on greased cookie sheet. Bake for 12 minutes. These are great served at room temperature but are best stored in the refrigerator. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Transformed

Yesterday my grandma Elizabeth experienced yet one more transformation in her life. 

Born in 1918 she experienced wars, depression, countless natural disasters, and the lives and deaths of so very many people. 

When grandma was born they didn't think she'd survive. She was too small and was set aside, only to fight her own battle for life. Born, when she was, in an era where the lives of children were viewed a little differently, and many didn't live to see adulthood. At four she was able to pick up a phonograph record (the extreme pre-I-Tunes form of music) and know what the song was. Her aunt told her mother not to love talented Elizabeth too much. That the special ones always died young. 

Grandma found her own mother peacefully absent from her body one afternoon. Weeks earlier she'd experienced a similar scare and it prepared her for the real deal. Grandma was widowed nearly two decades ago. Many other loved ones have gone before her. 

My grandma taught me that bacon fat had it's place in baked goods. That strong coffee made a lovely addition to chocolate frosting. And that honey in a saucer wasn't to be taken literally. She taught me that popcorn was okay for dinner on Sunday nights and that when she said "Good Night!!!" I'd better skeedadle to bed or head for the hills because she was done! 

Grandma could be counted on to have cookies around. And she could be counted on to laugh, as long as things didn't get too inappropriate. One of the funny movies we liked did not translate well once the "filthy" language had gone through the Grandma filter. And my innocent little five-year-old nearly had a stroke when she accused him of saying "the F-word". Apparently, I hadn't coached him that Fart was illegal to say in Kansas. 

Grandma had been struggling with her eyesight over the past few years, losing most of it to macular degeneration. And her hearing was dim making family gatherings difficult for her. 

Grandma didn't always love Jesus. She survived a World War, child rearing and the Great Depression without Him. But once He entered into the picture He became vastly important to her. And she was a Bible answer woman of great faith. Another legacy and a far more important one than bacon in baked goods (clearly, I've abandoned that what with the whole Vegan thing) and the proper care and serving of honey. Her frugality amazed me, and put her into legendary status. Did you know that the inner heavy plastic bag inside a cereal box has multiple uses? It's exceptionally handy as a plastic wrap substitute and can be used over and over again. 

Grandma's growing frailty was a frustration to her. She couldn't see and hear well enough to do some of the things she loved. And sometimes she would lose her balance. Her lungs were a little prone to bronchitis and other baddies. My pharmacist dad kept her in vitamins and supplements and other than a little bit of help for aches and pains and some asthma relief, she didn't need pharmaceuticals. Her little frugal self was pretty proud of that, we all know how much those co-pays are. 

Her death shocks me. Partially because Grandma is perpetually in her late 50's in my childish awareness that I could never shake. Partially, because even though she struggled with vision and hearing, she still did the things she wanted to do. Not that long ago she was regularly going on walkabouts to the bank that was a few blocks away. And the last time I took her to the grocery store my daughter and I could hardly keep up with her. 

A few months ago I dropped some lunch by her place. When I walked in she was sleeping on her enclosed sun porch and I didn't want to wake her. She looked so frail I had a little shiver of fear. I called my Mom and she told me to wake her and so I did. Grandma had fallen in the night and ripped open her arm. She didn't want to call anyone and bother them, but was a little worried. I called my folks and brother. My brother lives close and he zipped over. We started to unwrap her injury to see how bad it was and we both got weak in the knees. She went to the emergency room (after much protesting) and got stitched up. Yesterday, she decided to do a little gardening and she took another tumble. And fell right into the waiting arms of Jesus. 

She was born before televisions were in houses, let alone nearly every bedroom in America. She saw life bound from record players to I-Phones. Her first home probably cost less than our last used car. She ate organic when it wasn't cool, and has been a recycler all of her life.  Nuclear power hung over a portion of her life like a mushroom cloud. She lived through scads of presidents, and respected a few. As a young woman she'd never have considered anything like a computer and then benefitted from the computer age through her grandchildren and great grandchildren. 

My mom just told me that they had taken a recording of one of Grandma's favorite television preachers over the other day. She was excited to share what she learned with my mom. Through that preacher God had finally answered a question she'd had ever since she read about it. Why had Satan and an angel argued over the body of Moses? The preacher explained that because the Israelites had followed Moses into the parted Red Sea they were symbolically baptized into God's plan for the Israelite people. And Satan did not want that victory, that ownership to go where it belonged.  

Pretty awesome. My 95 year-old grandma was learning right up until she took her last breath. And that my stubborn, strong-willed-little-prairie-woman of a grandma died while she was living.  

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ A Little Privacy Puhleeze, Really...

I know I've ranted about this before. But, bear with me. The other day I went on a walkabout down the hall to the public restroom. Seriously, twenty percent of the time I enter that bathroom, someone is on the phone in a stall. I used to try to soften my sounds of urinating and flushing, but at this point, I'm just going with it. The toilets are auto flush anyhoo, so why should I try to be quiet, ya know? 

So while I was doing my business, I actually overheard the toilet talker apologize for the flushing sounds and admit she was in the bathroom... And who was she calling?  Upon easy eavesdropping, the doctor's office a hundred yards away from her. Yes, she was trying to set up a procedure, in the bathroom, on the toilet, just down the hall from the reception desk.

Just saying..... 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Not So Contrary Garden Growings...