fruit bar fever

stickers, stickers, everywhere stickers

a string of mini-christmases

Christmas has been a bit different for us this year, no family and no snow being the most notable. Jason has had to work a lot of nights in a row, so when he gets home in the mornings, we have a mini-Christmas, just the three of us.


First we watch one video clip or another of the Christmas story, ones we can all dig. Here are two of the three we've watched so far. The other was on facebook and not youtube, so I don't know how to share it. But it was of a friend of my cousin, a three year old girl reciting by memory the whole Christmas story passage in the book of Luke!





Then we eat breakfast and have a hot beverage, and we open one gift from each other or our far off friends and family. I like this method! It's a little something to look forward to each morning, and Zoralee has time and space to enjoy each book or toy. My husband surprised the snot out of me by getting me a real camera, which he couldn't hold off on and had to give me our first mini-Christmas day. He had been wanting to do it for many years, but was finally ready, in light of having a real job. It's so cool! I'm looking forward to posting photos from it as I figure it out. These are just with the old point and shoot camera (so yesterday, so outdated, so obsolete...heh heh).

bacon and rolls, the breakfast of mini-Christmas champions

Zoralee's homemade hair bows from Jannell and Cody

coloring book from Uncle Luke and Aunt Heather

And while I'm at it, here are pics of our tree, which we got and decorated while Mom and Dad were visiting a few weeks ago. We saw it at the grocery store for $20; I about fell over. I had no idea you could buy a tree at a grocery store for $20. It's all the way from Oregon and has given me many warm, fuzzy, northwest feelings. It's our first Christmas tree as a little family, because we've always been somewhere away from our own home for the holidays, so we haven't bothered with a tree.

We bought lights and a decoration for the top that reminds me of a group of celestial bodies. It's sort of a modern, scientific take on a star. I strung popcorn together, something I'd always wanted to try. We couldn't find the totally salt-free, butter-free variety of microwave popcorn, so I can't save these strands in a box for future years, but it was so fun I think it's going to be a tradition. Got mini cookie cutters and found a cinnamon dough recipe for the ornaments, which will save. The final touch was red ribbons tied here and there, for splashes of color.
 

the ornaments

Zoralee's ornament groupings

distant storm

Each Advent season, Tamie asks some of her friends, who come from a variety of places and perspectives, to contribute writings to her blog. Mine was posted there two days ago, and while I decided to post it here too, I encourage you to go to her blog and read others' writings. There's some really great stuff! You may pick up a bit of needed hope, inspiration, challenge, or just a sense of camaraderie among others who are waiting too.

   *   *   *   *   *   *

Several months ago, we bought a sound machine for our daughter, Zoralee, to see if it would help her sleep better at night. It did. Otherwise called a white noise maker, this little contraption paints a neutral sound canvas so that police sirens, car alarms, the freezer's ice maker, and children stomping down the halls of adjoining apartments can be woven more subtly into one's subconscious hearing.

 

One of the options on our machine is "distant storm;" this has turned out to be our favorite. Every night while I'm putting Zoralee to sleep, though it may be 80 degrees outside and clear as a yodeler's call, we listen to an impending storm. There are birds and crickets in the foreground, aware of the approaching weather, raising and lowering their cheeps and chirps as they consider plans of action. There are two dibbles of rain that hit the earth (then, oddly, hit it again 15 seconds later, then again in 15 seconds, but shhhh, never mind about the loop). What really grabs you is the thunder, several smooth but convincing rounds of it. Nothing ever happens, but it could! It's exciting, yet perfectly peaceful. It reminds me of the real storms, or passing trains, I've gone to sleep by.

 

But I've wondered ever since we got the machine - is this thing good for a kid? Is it healthy to hear, every single night and nap, something that's supposedly on its way but never actually arrives? At this point, we don't live in storm country, so Zoralee doesn't know enough to feel cheated by her sound machine. Still, this is the same question I've asked myself of our faith, now that I have a child to which I'm responsible to pass things along. We put our faith in a God who we hope sees and hears us, but who doesn't always answer. Is this a cruel thing to do to ourselves, and worse, to our children?

 

Well. Don't we humans have funny little ways? We live in houses removed from nature but are kept awake and perturbed by the blasted unnatural stuff. We solve our self-induced dilemma by importing synthesized woodsy or river sounds, plants, "natural light" light bulbs, and paintings or photographs of mountains and deserts. We turn on fans to emulate a nice breeze, and enjoy candles in ocean mist or balsam and cedar. And pets! Dogs, cats, snakes, gerbels, birds. This applies to all of us, even people who mistakenly think they’re not “nature-lovers” (a very strange term, since we are nature). We're re-creating the greater reality, because in the context of white walls and loud tile floors, by George, we've got to try SOMEthing.

 

Our sound machine is a pathetic substitute for an actual storm, to say the least, but right now it's all we've got to keep the nighttime noises at bay. Similarly, the stories of my faith, the Christian faith, form the canvas on which life is painted in all hues. This faith is interwoven into my language, my thought patterns, the repertoire of bedtime songs in my head. The whole package, despite what of it that enrages me, is a beautiful and strong story, one of redemption and hope, even one worth dying for. Somehow, we're assured, Christ will eventually redeem us and all that is good. We are waiting for the storm’s destruction and renewal.

 

So, the way it comes back around is this: my kids might one day shut off the sound machine. They might grow weary of the stories, expectations and priorities that go along with the Christian faith, or at least our family's interpretation of such. They'll say, "Enough waiting for this storm! We want to feel the storm! We want to see its power! We want it to do something!" Which is, I guess, how most of us feel about God on several days of the week. Many of the Scripture writers did too.

 

If the kids’re anything like me, they’ll find themselves waiting for many things through life. Waiting for my actions to line up with my deepest and best motivations. Waiting for an all natural toothpaste to do as good of a job on sensitive teeth as Sensodyne. Waiting for a famous movie producer to notice me in the produce aisle and say in sincerity, “You! You are exactly the next actress we’ve been looking for - someone with chicken legs and a forehead cowlick!”

 

While they’re waiting to come to terms with what they’re waiting for, the kids might go outside and hike around in the hills. Maybe paddle around a lake or scuba dive into its depths. And you know what they'll discover? The sights, sounds, and scents of the real world, the way things really are - the precious and the bitter. They'll be astounded at just how many legs a centipede has. They'll lose the baseball game, then friends, then their own health. They'll hear a distant storm and watch as it comes closer, intent on delivering what it holds. The waning and waxing chirps of the crickets might remind them of the sound machine, and that we're waiting for a bigger storm, and that they should ask their questions again. Keep asking, keep seeking. When, when, when, will God make justice happen on a massive, permanent scale? They’ll remember that, paradoxically, the Kingdom of God is already at hand; we are its occupants, so what should we do now? I pray they are comforted, knowing they are held, they are loved, they are safe in the most ultimate ways. This is the best we can do, these explanations we offer, because "now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." I Corinthians 13:12

 

The storm hasn't arrived.

We only hear it in the distance.

So, we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And occasionally, we play Uno.

morning cookies

a conversation from moments ago

Zoralee: Oh, those are cookies! We should have one!

Me: Okay. We usually don't have cookies in the morning, but I guess you could have a little piece.

Zoralee: Aubreigh gave these!

Me: Yes, Aubreigh gave these to us.

Zoralee: [eating a bite] Oh, wow!

Me: It's good, isn't it?

Zoralee: You have no idea.

Zoralee's 2nd birthday

We had the world's lowest key birthday (for a kid), which was just perfect for this year. Between my pregnancy fatigue and having just hosted a big Thanksgiving shindig the week before, we took this one easy. 'Twas a leisurely morning, the adults drinking coffee whilst entertaining/being entertained by Zoralee and Bennett, and Zoralee trying to finagle as many chocolate cupcakes as she could ahead of the celebration. Then, in a little window of the early afternoon, when the kids were up from their naps and Jason hadn't yet left for work, Zoralee opened her presents, and we sang happy birthday and gave her another cupcake with a "2" candle in it. And that was it!

She wanted to play with each toy and read each book rather than move along to new presents. It really felt like we were encouraging ADD by giving her gifts one after the other. Somebody suggested that for a child her age, it'd be a good idea to let her open a gift each day leading up to the birthday. 

She loved her singing card from Grandpa and Grandma as much as any present.

The next two pictures are from the morning time, before Zoralee had opened her first present of new clothes. She got those leopard pajamas for her first birthday. They are wonderful pajamas, but every once in a while, when she drops her drawers and has messy hair or a dirty face, she looks like quite the urchin child. Just after the second photo, Zoralee needed to go tinkle. She found a nice patch of grass, but not wanting to step fully onto it, she gingerly put one foot on the grass and kept the other on the sidewalk. She did her business in a beautiful squat/straddle, and then leaned onto the sidewalk foot, slowly swinging her other foot around until it too was on the sidewalk. Then she looked over at me and gave a little hick chuckle and grin - with (and I am not making this up) chocolate cupcake stuck to one of her front teeth. 

"This looks like a post-domestic disturbance still shot from COPS. All Zoralee needs is a frying pan in her hand." - Rachel

times with the fam in Texas

My parents left Monday morning, having visited for 2 weeks. They spent every waking moment with Zoralee in one activity or another, much to her delight. We also checked out Mexican restaurants around town, went to the San Antonio Zoo, walked to the playground, and got into a philosophical debate or two. I got to nap a lot; it was heavenly.

Rachel and Bennett came in late Thursday night, so their visit with the folks overlapped for three days over Zoralee's birthday weekend. Our Pickle is a pretty lucky gal to have family travel to wherever she is just for her birthday! Last year it was Alaska, and this year Texas. We might have to move somewhere even more exotic next year to test the family's stamina. Oh yeah, we are - North Dakota! That'll be the true test, one of overcoming shame and humiliation. For you see, we grew up in Montana telling North Dakota jokes, which generally focused on a North Dakotan's lack of intelligence or good looks. Very mature, I know. For example,

Why don't North Dakotan's ever ride their bicycles in Montana?
Because there are too many chain removal signs on the mountain passes.

...and other riotously funny quips.
 
Anyway, that was a rabbit trail if there ever was one. First, here're some pics of the general family visiting activities, then I'll do another of just Z's 2nd birthday. Also, Rachel has more pictures and stories over at her blog. 

snakes are evidently not cool in Zoralee's book

the Okapi, a shining example of genetic indecision

self-dusting: similar to Zoralee's self-yogurting

wishing we'd gotten to the goat petting pen before it closed

helping Grandpa with his morning reading

greeting upon arrival a weary boy and his Mama

Chore #1: establishing positions on Grandma's lap

pull ups on the playground

The kids love each other, even though they continually wake each other up from their non-coordinated naps. As I write, Zoralee ran up to Bennett and patted his cheeks, saying, "Bennett! Bennett! Bennett! Bennett!" She concluded by shaking his hand and saying cordially, "Nice to meet you!"

remembering Pearl Harbor

Here is a song that remembers Pearl Harbor from the perspective of one of the ships, The USS Arizona. My brother, Luke, wrote it and put it to a slide show of old photographs.

reflections from the first trimester

I'm at 14 weeks today with pregnancy! 14 out of 40 or so. I am a third of the way toward delivery. And now that the first trimester is over, hmm, I should blog! It helps that my mommy dearest is reading to Zoralee on the couch, the same array of magazines they've read every day whilst the folks have been visiting. 

Most of these blippets are based on my journal entries from the past 3 months.

Week 3

• I'm pregnant! Wow. How amazing it is to write that simple sentence. And though I'll feel more settled about it tomorrow morning after a third home test, I think I'm willing to call it now. A test this morning showed a vague line, but at least it was peeking through the plastic window into my reality more clearly than the test 48 hours ago, whose line was practically imaginary, whose line I've looked at with squinted eyes for 2 days. I am due in late May/early June. A summer baby! Two and a half years after Zoralee. There have been troubled pregnancies all around me, and happy ones too. Who can say how this one will go? But I am happy to house this soul for as long of its journey as I can. 
• Pregnancy confirmed by a woo-woo fancier doodle test that Rachel had. It tells the results with one word: pregnant. And it did. Wow. I am happy! Happy, but cautious. 
• I've got to coordinate a prenatal and birthing effort between Texas (where we'll be until 7 months along) and North Dakota. 
• I want so badly to take up exercise! They say you shouldn't increase it in early pregnancy, just keep it at the level it was. For me, that means practically zero. I've at least got to increase the leisurely walks. Surely that won't hurt. Will I be disciplined enough to sleep well during this pregnancy, most specifically when Z does (like right now)?

Week 5

• Funny, I've been waiting for a miscarriage to start. Looking for pink mucus, analyzing my cramps. Today I had a slapping thought - - what if this pregnancy results in a BABY?? Whoa.

Week 6

• Terrible insomnia last night. Several bouts of nausea today, especially when I got too hungry or too hot. The first real, solid nausea with this pregnancy. 
• We're still in Portland with Rach and fam. In a household where one woman is in early pregnancy and has an early-rising toddler and the other woman has a three month old baby who wakes to eat every few hours, who gets to nap while the other does chores? It's a basic, unsolvable conundrum. The answer: both lay on the couches watching another episode of Without A Trace, and order take-out for dinner. 

Week 7

• My belly feels populated. It's just a feeling, not so much of life being present, but of stuff. I am filling up, yes, at 8.5 weeks. Call me crazy. None of my pants fit. Shirts are too clingy. I don't want to "show" yet! It's cheating, letting my already bulging belly stick out, now that I have an excuse! But there's no sucking it up anymore. Why should I fight my body? Acceptance is the way to go! Right, maybe I'll accept it at 10 weeks. 
• My belly began brushing the back of Zoralee's WeeRide seat when we rode my bike to the playground yesterday. Twins? Nah; not sick enough. 
• Fresh, spritely toothpaste is nice in the mornings, but at night, when you're facing insomnia? Why not a fatigue-inducing scent, like turkey or warm milk? How about it, industry? ha ha - gross.

Week 9

• Nothing says pregnancy like a lunch of white powdered donuts and almonds flavored with wasabi and soy sauce. 
• I looked one final time at my 3 preggo tests, which I'd saved all together in a baggie. The digital one that read "pregnant" is now blank. It reasons that there would be a time limit to the battery. Still, I didn't like seeing it that way. Felt ominous. The other two (not digital) still show extra lines; two out of three win. Boy, it will be nice to hear a heartbeat. 
• Jason and I were reminiscing about the days we used to have lavish amounts of time together. No hurries. No worries. Nothing calling us from our rest on couch, bed, floor, or car seat. Nowadays, that type of rest is SUCH a luxury, and what do we do with our limited free time? We go and make another baby.

Week 11

• Heard the heartbeat!! We have a healthy, growing, live baby, near the end of the first trimester! Verrrry relieving! What kind of baby could it be - a boy or a girl, and what sort of boy or girl? We sent out a text video of Zoralee telling the family our news. "Houston," we coached her to say, "we have a heartbeat!" 
• Not sure about this nurse-midwife practice we chose, but we're into it now, so at the bare minimum, we'll hear their analyzation of and suggestions about my blood work in a couple weeks. Discussed the possibility of anemia, based on my continual fatigue. 
• We told Zoralee that I have a baby in my tummy. She seemed like a mix of confused and unimpressed. She tried to get into my shirt so that she could be in my tummy.

Week 12

• Being pregnant is like Build-A-Bear, except it takes nine months, and you can't see the options you're choosing. 
• Tired. Tired. All the time, tired. 
• I have felt occasional movements for weeks now, textbooks be damned. But this week, as I was poking around at my belly, I felt a movement from the inside and outside at once!

Week 13

• Mom and Dad are visiting! They encourage me to nap whenever I want to, and oh, is it glorious. Haven't had much nausea, unless I let myself go too long without food, which is consistent with my other pregnancies. Pretty fortunate, really. But this insomnia, compounded by having to pee every 1/2 hour, is aggravating. I have an aversion to the charcoal smell of grilled food. 
• My emotional state has been totally different this time around. I can count on one hand the days of dreamy, blissful hope I've had about the world and my life. There are factors. Living in a border town where it is dangerous, where we aren't free to roam, and where we lock the doors, even during the day, is taking its toll. Not being in contact with much of nature is too. I am so sorry, little one! I hope you aren't picking up too much of the wah-wah Debby Downer vibe. You just concentrate on growing big and strong. When you come out and learn about the world's brokenness, we'll pray for it together and think about what we might do to help. Also, your Papa will probably enroll you and your sister in self-defense classes. 
• Went back to the midwife practice for blood and pee test results. Clean bill of health for me. No anemia. Good levels in every way....except I'm evidently positive for Group Beta Strep. Going on what I understood the midwife to say (and not having looked it up myself yet), GBS is a naturally occuring bacteria that about 60% of women have in their gut. If it shows up in your pee, which mine did, they are concerned that the baby could contract some of it during labor (although a concerning level is 100,000; mine is below 10,000). Nevertheless, they will most certainly need to put antibiotics in my IV during labor. When I reminded her that I am planning to have another home birth, she looked at me incredulously. A home birth is out! she declared, because you must have this antibiotic in your IV, and home birth midwives aren't trained to administer IVs! Jason and I asked a few questions, politely, but we must've appeared skeptical, because she paused, looked from one of us to the other, and said, "I sense a massive internet search coming on." We laughed. Yes indeedy. 
• She also said it is mandatory to have an ultrasound around 20 weeks. That topic is for another post.

Woo-hoo! Here we go with kid making!

Giant Toddler Finds Ordinary Toys Despairingly Unuseful

mad as hell and what to do about it

Alex posted this video on his blog last week. It's a sound byte from a 1976 movie called, "Network," paired with music and also the kynetic typography of Aaron Leming. It really connected with me, but then, when the video was over, I was sitting there with a raging fire in my bosom and only a spoon in my upraised hand. And the old question of what to do about it lingered, unanswered.

Tonight Jason and I were scratching our heads in confusion and shaking them in sadness and anger over this rash of people in our own country kidnapping each other, cutting them into tidbits, etc. etc. It's like everyone has lost their ever-loving mind. But, as we discuss continually, we're all so isolated! We live in bubbles. We drive in bubbles. You can work from home, shop from home, find love from home. Nobody really has to interact with each other, just basic interaction, I mean, and discuss even the weather, much less the demons in their lives. This sterility creates bad things! We're afraid of each other, because we don't know each other. No community means nobody to temper our mental states, precarious as they are.

So how do we combat the fear, loneliness, and isolation that leads not only to unfulfilled living but also, apparently, to boundless deprivation? Well, to my way of thinking, this, another great post from Tamie, goes with the video like cotton and candy. (All text following the video is lifted directly from Tamie's post, with her permission.) Watch the vid, then read the text. I predict you'll get mad as hell, then calm down and start figuring out what to do next.

Jon and I were discussing tonight at dinner how it's so much easier to sit around talking about all the crazy people, than it is to discuss pragmatic ways of relating to, and caring for, all the crazy people.  Personally, I think this is a symptom of our feeling of powerlessness.  But this is no good, friends.  Because some of those crazy people are suffering for real, and some of those crazy people are causing others real suffering.  We have to be better than just sitting around talking about things.  We have to figure out how to provide real, substantial, meaningful support to parents who are struggling, to alcoholics who are on the verge of relapsing, to the humble husband on the quiet verge of harming himself, to the child--the one from the good family--being sexually abused. 

I have some assignments for you, my amazing readers.  And for myself.

The first thing is this:

I want all of us to admit that we need help.  I don't mean to admit, in some mamby-pamby theological way, "I need help, as a human being."  No.  I mean, that I want all of us to think about some concrete way that we need help.  And I want us to ask for it.  Here are some examples:

-If you are struggling with an addiction and haven't told anyone, reach out to someone you trust and tell that person.  Tell that person you need help.

-If you are lonely, and need someone to come over and play a board game with you, or take a walk with you, or hold you for a while, or talk to you on the phone, reach out to a trusted someone and ask for that help.

-If you feel you have something to offer, but are feeling sad that no one has asked you for that thing, go volunteer that something.  That is a form of asking for help too.

-If you need encouragment, e-mail or call someone and tell them you need encouragement.  It is a good thing sometimes to just go ahead and ask for encouragement.

The second thing is this:

I want us all to think about how we can offer meaningful help to someone today.  Is your Great Aunt Matilda in the nursing home, and you haven't called her recently?  Is there a homeless man on the streets who could use a warm meal, no strings attached?  Could your middle child use a date with you all by himself?  Do you know an exhausted parent who could really use a free night to himself--and could you therefore offer to babysit (free of charge!)?  There are also some great organizations who are helping suffering people; they could put your money to good use.  (You can ask me for suggestions, if you don't know of these organizations; I know a couple fantastic ones.)

The third thing is this:

What concrete kindness can you do for yourself today?  I think this is a tough one, because we live in this "pamper-yourself" society.  But what kindness do you need of yourself today?  I don't mean so much a manicure (but maybe) as a surrender of self-cruelty.

Let's really do these assignments, okay?  It's okay if you can't do all three.  Pick one.  But if you have to only pick one, think carefully about which one you choose.  If you tend to constantly be reaching out to others, choose #1.  Okay?  And meanwhile, let's talk with each other more about concrete, practical ways to help each other, and let's spend less time bashing all those idiotic conservatives/liberals/TEA partyers/church-goers/atheists.  Okay?

snails

Haven't sat down at the computer to blog in several days (obviously), partially because of an unexpected trip north of Austin to buy a Subaru we found on craigslist. Great deal, great transaction. Woop! Plus while we were there, we found an old double-jogger for $50. Double woop! Just in time for baby Bennett's visit southward. I took it out for a test run yesterday, and this is weird, but it actually pulls you along and encourages you to jog! Like, walking with it seems unbearably slow, maybe because you're looking over at your tractor-trailer-sized shadow. I think I strained a muscle in my leg, which figures. If you jog only thrice a year, don't expect pretty results.

Anyway, I've still been lethargic and snaily, so I thought this would be a good time to post snail pics from a few weeks ago. Zoralee and I gathered these snails one morning after a night of rain. Somehow, despite the best efforts of the humans, a semblance of nature is thriving way deep down in the moist crevices of our manicured 2x10' lawn. 

the beginning of the photo shoot, when everybody was tucked snugly into their shell

close-up of the "a," 20 seconds later, when everybody started getting antsy

farting around - nobody takes their work seriously anymore

less than 2 minutes after the original picture

a bonus find!

I guess this would be a good time to mention that I have had this random fear whenever I stick my hand down into our sink drain, which I do to ensure there are no runaway silverwares before I start the disposal. Other people do that too, right? Anyway, lately I keep thinking there's going to be a dead mouse in there. How/why it would be there, I have no idea, but this thought seems to be a result of Rachel's and Amy's recent posts about finding little creatures in their homes. Another funny little way of being connected to people in tangible ways through blogville. Well, and Rachel is my sister too. But I've never met Amy, yet I think of her at random times anymore, like when I see birds. We're all connected, people.

Minimalism - Kinetic Typography Poem

Thanks, Alex.

bit o' ramblin'

I am excited to blabbety blab blab about this pregnancy and other goings on, but I've enjoyed letting that Prego picture linger at the top of my blog.

But, real quick, any opinions out there about the threat level that nursing for 15 minutes in 24 hours could pose on a developing fetus? I'm thinking, "next to nothing." Jason is more worried. Zoralee still nurses before bed and nap, and once in the middle of the night, for a total of 15 minutes tops. I'm tired all the time. All the time. Major insomnia every night. I'm sure giving Z some of my hard-earned calories doesn't help my daytime fatigue level (getting sleep would!), but shouldn't I be able to compensate for the nursing with extra caloric intake? I wanted to ask the nurse midwife this question and a few others, but we didn't have time...for...any...questions at our first visit (?!). But that's for another post: nurse-midwives and home birth midwives are two separate balls of wax. Okay, that's a broad, unfair statement. My home birth midwife in Montana and the nurse midwife practice here in Texas (which I chose simply because they're covered by insurance; I won't even be here for the delivery) have such different approaches! I never knew! I am learning.
 

Off the subject, raise your hand if it drives you BATTY that most National Geographic shows play dramatic music no matter what's happening. A bird drinks from a calm stream. Duhn-duhn-duhn! A monkey scratches its ear. Duhn-duhn-duhn! Jason wants to make a series called "Mediocre Migrations," where average things happen to average animals, and the narrator tells about it real relaxed-like.

It has been serious winter weather here in southern Texas, with daytime temperatures dipping into the 70's. I have been craving comfort foods - soups, stews, chocolate cake. Oh, I guess I like chocolate cake year round. 


The other day, I was talking to this lady about kids and what they watch on t.v. I told her I let Zoralee watch Dora The Explorer. She said to me, all resigned, and with a far-off look in her eye, "Yeah, they all start on Dora." I wanted to laugh out loud, but she wasn't being funny. I guess Dora the Explorer is the gateway cartoon.


Nighty night, friends.

nut-flour cookies

The nut-flour cookie cheer:

What's a cookie that's delicious?
      NUT-FLOUR COOKIES!
What's a cookie that's moist?
      NUT-FLOUR COOKIES!
What's a cookie that's high in protein?
      SAME THING!
What's a cookie that's gluten-free?
      YEP!
What's a tad bit expensive, but worth it considering the amount of protein you're getting?
       NUT FLOUR COOKIES.
What's a cookie that can be invariably altered, according to your family's tastes, but still be delicious, moist, high in protein, and gluten-free?
      NUT-FLOUR COOKIIIIIIIES! [clap clap clap clap clap, jump, spin, mid-air splits]

This is a recipe from my cousin, Lora, posted today by special request. 



NUT-FLOUR COOKIES
Note: You must have a food processor or hearty coffee grinder to grind nuts into flour, or else purchase it already ground.

ingredients

5 C nut flour (almonds, pecans, walnuts, peanuts, etc.)
1 C nut pieces (not ground as fine)
1 C raisins, craisins, or other dried fruit bits
1 C unsweetened coconut
1/2 C melted butter
1/2 - 1 C honey, (or agave)
2 eggs
1t baking soda
1/8 t salt


the way to do it

Mix dry ingredients. Mix wet ingredients separately, then mix with dry. Form into small balls with spoon or hands - I'm gonna say about ping pong ball size. Flatten. Bake at 350 for 12-15 minutes or until lightly browned.  Note: I use about half pecans and half almonds for my flour, which produces a cookie that is moist and chewy. Using all pecans or walnuts would produce a sloppy cookie, because those nuts are oily.

goin' - doin' - seein'

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son ?
And where have you been my darling young one ?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways...

Bob Dylan, A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

another sign I live in the same home as Jason - one rock being chipped into an arrowhead by another

horse crime scene