Yesterday was the anniversary of our mom's passing. It's been fourteen years. My sister and I sort of "dread" it--and probably will as long as we live. And we probably should be over it by now, but seems every year, as hard as I try to "get through just another day" it all comes back to me and I find I must busy my hands and mind to manage my way through the bitter twenty-four hour melancholy. I don't mean to say I sit in a corner and eat cake till the sun sets (well, yes, I sort of do. . . sit in a corner and eat cake until the sun sets). Sister and I spend time on the phone--letting each other know we are both here for each other. Share some memory. Think about what-ifs and all. It really grounds you--this loss. I can't explain why. It's as if having had our "mom" loss way too early in life for any daughter to experience, we've also been granted a very special gift. Last night as my sister and I were checking in with each other (we do that--check in to make sure we're "Okay" on this day)--my sister reminded me once again that with all our mother's faults and all the pent up "issues" we've both carried on through our lives as a result of our mom being "our mom" we still have each other and that, to us, is one of her greatest achievements ever: giving us each a sister.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Nothing keeps me full and satisfied like eating cardboard for breakfast. I am not a newbie to the "fiber" trend. I have always believed that if you ate wood chips for breakfast, you'd not want more wood chips the rest of the day. And this is pretty much how I roll when it comes to baking with bran: the bulkier, the better. I've had these muffins for breakfast now for the past four days. I can attest to their sticks-to-your-ribs quality. They are superb for keeping the mid afternoon cravings at bay, but I cannot promise you will dodge the four-o'clock munchies.
Monday, July 25, 2011
"Feel my forehead!" This has become my new mantra. Then I grab Dr. Thyme's reluctant hand and slap it up against my clammy head for him to get a taste of what it's like to be a "human generator". If the thought of cake and hot flashes don't appeal to you, well, that's too bad. I am coming undone. This heat, combined with my body's inability to find a normal core temperature, is absurd, maddening, frustrating and on and on . . . you get the idea.
This cake was the third of its kind on a quest to adapt THE best vegan white layer cake I could muster.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Vegan Po' Boy with Corn Fried Tempeh on Bernard Clayton's Monsieur Monfort's French Bread (The Joys of July And Gardening in 110 Degrees!)
I'm sitting inside next to the only open window I'll allow for daylight to stream in when the outside temperatures match a setting on my oven. We've reverted to "cave" mode officially. No daylight is allowed in the house after eleven or so. If I wake up more surly than usual--the blinds don't even get parted. The laptop has been given hiatus status because in my mind, why add to the misery and use up precious cold molecules to cool down a computer? If you are thinking, My god! She doesn't turn on her laptop?! No. I don't. There are days (d-a-y-s) when I do not even bother "logging" in. Sometimes I think my mind may shrivel up and "forget" all of my accumulated technological know-how. So far, that hasn't happened.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
I am the only person feasting on this amazing pie. It's criminal, I know. What's a girl to do when she has a craving so overwhelming she is willing to schlepp peaches from the store in the middle of one hundred-plus degree temps and buying out nearly half the store inventory of "locally-grown"? Well, make peach pie, of course--in a 425 degree oven, no less! Godforbid . . . am I acclimating to this semi-jungle climate, that I think nothing of cranking up the old stove for pie-baking in July? Heat be damned! Me of Northern roots and all? Hubby is not a fan--of the peach. Shame. And I cannot get him to budge on the matter either, even as I give commentary during each and every bite. (OMG, this is sooo good . . . my crust--it turned out PERFECTLY! I LOVE this pie!)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Vegan Red Velvet Cake with Creamy Vanilla Buttercream Frosting (The Story of A Hero, A Father, A Son)
This is the kind of cake you could take to a funeral. And we did. . . have a funeral, that is. But this cake didn't make it there. Instead, we have been enjoying its company for dessert this past week--for three nights so far, two pieces remain for tonight. I thought it about time to pop in here. I had family comment: "Noticed you've not posted in a while". Not that I'm a person who is easily swayed by anyone's concerns, this just happens to be the god's truth.