Love to the Midwest and South

I'm sending my deepest sympathy to those who lost loved ones in these storms. I am rejoicing with those who lived through much worse than I did tonight and remained safe. I thought I was tough after 2 years in Texas. That was until there was "upward rotation" approximately 1/2 mile from my apartment window.

We might have one more storm tonight. Verizon is so stinking busy that I can't get a text or call out to DH who is on vacation.

Frustrated but so very grateful for my safety and God's provision.

The One to Shine

I have a friend, Nancy. We met years ago...um, dare I say 14 years ago.  Oh goodness, that makes me feel really old. But yes, 14 years ago.

We were both freshmen and still sparkly eyed at the idea of becoming famous actresses. The world was ours for the taking if we just reached out for it. I think we met the first day of class or maybe it was orientation. She was one of my first friends. I'm lucky enough that she still is a friend.

Nancy is many things: a talented, spunky, loving, beautiful, sweet woman. She also happens to be one of the most amazing songwriters that I have ever heard. Her voice is light and earthy at the same time and quintessentially Nancy. She has a cat, or maybe two? I know, I should know this. She has a huge family that is made up of actual family and friends. Nancy has saved my life many times just by being there. She likes to wear loud flip-flops (Nancy, ask Katie if you think I'm making it up). She was the best Sally Bowles I've ever seen. She sees people for who they are and who they can be instead of who they once were. Her CD cost me $50 because I was in such a rush to buy it that I forgot to change the payment info on my iTunes. It is worth every last cent and lives in my CD player in the car. She still takes the time to handwrite notes and then remembers to mail them. She went to trapeze school. Are you kidding? Who's brave enough to go to trapeze school and own it? Oh that's right, Nancy. She consistently follows her heart and dreams and is soaring among the stars now.


Do your heart a favor and use the link below. I promise you will not be disappointed. Love you Nancy Pants!
http://www.nancymicciulla.com/fr_starthere.cfm

Fanatical Wingnut

What am I not? A fanatical wingnut. Commonly thought of as a person who can't think for herself. Someone who accepts what is told to her without any further thought on the matter. Someone who has been brainwashed.
What am I? A Christian. Someone who believes that Jesus loves me to an extent that I cannot ever fully comprehend while on this earth and my belief in Him and Him alone affords me eternal life. Someone who knows that while my life ending is guaranteed, it may or may not coincide with the end of the world. Regardless, I will be with my Lord so it's a win-win situation someday.

I do not deign to believe that God changes His mind regarding His Word.

Matthew 24:36 says "No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in Heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." I cannot begin to fathom why otherwise intelligent people would choose to believe a mere man who predicted the end of the world yesterday at 6pm. There may be a myriad of reasons, psychological or otherwise, that allowed them to grasp at these particular straws. I'm neither a psychologist, analyst, specialist on religious fanaticism or anything else remotely qualified to say. Remember that as you read the rest of this post.

The worst part of the charade that this "church" performed was the attention paid to them. Attention that leads to the opinion that all Christians can be painted by the same brush, as you can read on just about any news outlet today. There are people who believe all Christians are stark raving mad fanatical wingnuts. We're all stark raving lunatics, just like all Muslims must be on a jihad, right? That sounds stupid, right? There are a lot of stereotypes and ideas that the secular world has about people who believe in Jesus Christ. Some of them are true. Are Christians hypocrites? Yep, just as everyone in this world is a hypocrite. We may attempt to follow the Bible to the letter, to live life the way the Lord instructs us, but we will fail. We're human, just like the next guy. The difference is that when I fail, I know that the Lord loves me anyway and will allow me to try again. I don't have to beat myself up, blame myself, the world, my parents, those around me. Hopefully I can learn every time I fail and apply it, move forward. Hopefully I can become more of a light to those around me. Hopefully I can become more humble.

Mostly, I hope that when I talk to people about what I believe that I do it with love and respect, not condescension, or force, or superiority. To do so would be the equivalent of me saying that I know all that God knows. That would be a lie. I do know that I cannot know all that He knows but that I can trust His Word to be true.

I don't believe it's my place to tell you that because you do XYZ that it's worse than me doing ABC. There is no sin that you commit that is worse than any sin I commit. Sin is sin is sin no matter how you attempt to pretty it up. I don't believe that anyone wants to be beat about the head with what I know is truth. Yes, I do believe it is truth, and there is absolute truth. Truth is not something that is personal when it comes to this. But not everyone wants to hear that truth. Sometimes the only thing I can do is love a person in the best way I know how.  Sometimes all I can do is tell them what that truth is and how I don't know everything there is to know and I don't understand everything there is to understand about that truth. This makes me human, not a mindless robot who has been brainwashed.

This blog isn't meant to be an outlet for my beliefs, per se. And in general it will be more about cooking and baking and my random life thoughts. But my faith is part of who I am and by extension will show up here once in a while. I hope it's one way I can be a light in this world.

Courtesy of e.e. cummings

As DH is on a long vacation with friends, I have plans of much reading, cleaning and getting caught up on everything I've kind of been putting to the side.

I ran to the library last week to pick up the amazing Jen Lancaster's new novel and stumbled upon the new Jodi Picoult. Since I trust that Simon & Schuster takes fact checking fairly seriously, I'm going to quote this e.e. cummings poem that is quoted in "Sing You Home" without double checking their well paid fact checker. I don't know squat about poetry and even less about e.e. cummings, but loved this poem.

"i carry your heart with me(icarry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
                                              i fear
no fate( for you are my fate, my sweet)i want
no world( for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you"

So if this was written by someone other than e.e. cummings, I sincerely apologize.

San Antonio

DH and I spent this past weekend with some of his family in San Antonio. It was my first trip there and I"m so glad we went! Not only was it great to meet the rest of DH's family, but it was a super relaxing weekend, which we both needed.

We went to The Alamo on Saturday. Remember the Alamo! Seriously, we didn't pay the $6 for the audio tour so I'm not sure I understood the significance of everything. The only part of The Alamo that the audio tour pertained to was the same part that you couldn't take pictures in - The Mission. So there may have been some amazing historical facts but I don't know them.

The grounds outside of The Mission were beautiful.  The gardens look like they've been there for decades and combined with the old architecture, it was as if we'd been transported back in time. Man does that sound dorky! But they were beautiful grounds.

We also found the church where some of The Alamo heroes are interred. Outside the church DH popped a pose by the fountain and found a new friend. He does love him some birds.

After our historical tour was the famed Riverwalk framed by lots of trees. Take an umbrella or be prepared to take your chances with the birds. I narrowly escaped being pooed on twice. If you know me, you know that birds are drawn to me for some reason. The Italians insist it is good luck to be hit by bird poop. I think they just wanted to swing an awkward situation in their favor. Anyway, sorry for digressing into the gastrointestinal world of birds there.

DH and I walked and talked and got all sorts of turned around but had a great time! We got so caught up in talking that we kind of went the wrong way on the Riverwalk and didn't realize it until about a half a mile past the touristy part of the Riverwalk. But there were some great hidden treasures along this stretch of the walk and we never would have seen them if we would have stuck to the restaurant/tourist section!

Along the way there were a ton of different birds to see and try to catch on film. The baby birds were my favorites while DH prefers the odder looking bird that we couldn't identify. Any ornithographers in my reading audience? 

If y'all are ever near San Antonio, the Riverwalk is a great place to spend the day and relax. Just remember, we Italians consider it good luck.

Library Girl's Shower

Clearly as I am in the Deep South and not in Yankeeland, I could not be in physical attendance at Library Girl's bridal shower. But I contributed anyway. With what? Cookies, of course!

I'd been looking forward to showing off my cookie skills to some of my family for awhile. So when The Mother of Us All asked if I would make cookies as a surprise, I jumped at the chance. If I had known what I was getting into I still would have said yes, I just would have had a lot more chocolate on hand.

This was by far the biggest cookie order I have ever done. Approximately 100 cookies in three different shapes and a total of 5 colors. If I had been Jewish I would have said Oy Vey. As it was I said Ok and started to work up a plan.

Yes, it is a scary scary sea of naked cookies

The worst moment of the whole weekend was when I had two batches of dough made and looked at the remaining butter on my counter. I cocked my head, squinted slightly, did some math in my head (I know, a dangerous prospect) and then spoke some "French" as The Mother of Us All calls cussin'. I had made a rookie mistake and inadvertently mixed low fat cookie dough. Interestingly enough, you can't tell the difference except that it rolls out a bit more dryly and it's a little more difficult to work with.

Bake at 350 has an amazing website that shows what a true creative genius can produce with a little cookie dough and ingenuity. And this post on marbling was so easy to follow! My hands were shaky for the first couple but then it smoothed out.

 Royal icing is meant to be stiff...I think this beater could fly with the right atmospheric conditions.

10 hours, 10 cups of flour, 5 sticks of butter, 2 batches of royal icing and a myriad of other ingredients later and there were 100 cookies waiting to make the trek north, including these crazy cakes (credit goes to Bake at 350 for this decoration repro).

 The Mother of Us All informed me that the cookies were a hit, around a mouthful of crumbs.

Oh Reese

Sometimes I wish I looked like Reese Witherspoon. Just sayin'. Rather, I wish I looked like Reese Witherspoon following hair, make-up and wardrobe. Just once a month would be nice. Is that asking too much?

Dang, it is? Ok.

Peru...Briefly

I was on my way home from grocery shopping this evening and had the windows rolled down enjoying the cool air when I drove into Peru. Not literally of course, but a dense-smelling cloud of wood burning smoke. It was the smell of all of the linens in Peru when I was there 17 years ago. I was transported back to a group of 6, cows, hotel rooms with very thin walls, a rousing bout of gastrointestinal upset - no, I didn't drink the water, thank you very much - food that would interest me for the next 17 years, a cute boy and an eternal change of heart and an undying respect for public restrooms with toilet paper. It brought back Denise and I rearranging furniture to sleep closer to one another, laughing into the small hours of the night, being threatened with all manner of punishment if we didn't go to sleep and a night spent playing games by a fire.

It never occurred to me until tonight that what I think of as the smell of Peru was actually wood smoke.