A Dose of Spring

Well, friends ... the forecast this week is calling for -- you guessed it -- more S N O W.  Which, at this point, is most definitely a four-letter word around these parts.  And most likely just about everywhere else across the country too.  What a winter! 

In an effort to foster a little escapism, here's a peek at some of our Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens springtime eye candy from last year.  

Enjoy!

:: create (in) a sacred space ::

I'm sure it comes as no great surprise that I've done quite a bit of reading and researching over the past several months.  Some for hope and edification, some purely for escape, and some for levity and inspiration.  Finding balance in a decidedly unbalanced 'rock my world' situation ... usually involves books.  At least for me. 

Enter a timely read (and care package!) from my sweet new cousin-in-law ... and you have today's post.  The book she sent had a section about creating a sacred space.  Somewhere to go, somewhere to decorate ... to feel peaceful and renewed.  Even when life -- like now -- feels so foreign, frustrating and out of control.  

Guess what?  I have two of these spaces already! 

One is my kitchen ... and the other is my basement crafting area.  Both are a little worse for wear these days (like me), but they still exude that familiar feeling of home, comfort, routine, and possibility.  Not to mention escape.  That little bit of 'normal' that may be just enough to tip the scales on this roller coaster ride of emotions, exhaustion, and downright absurdity.

So ... today (at last!) I was up for some baking.  Nothing fancy or overly involved.  Just a few simple ingredients, my favorite three-year-old helper, and a plan for muffins.  Though the effort pales in comparison to what usually goes on in that kitchen of mine, it felt incredible to at least test the waters.  And hope that tomorrow I can test them again.

::: Peanut Butter Oatmeal Muffins :::   
(adapted from Paula Deen's Cookbook for the Lunch-Box Set)

1 cup white flour
1/2 cup wheat flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4-1 cup packed brown sugar

1/2 cup chunky peanut butter
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup skim milk
1 tsp. vinegar

Preheat oven to 375º. Spray muffin cups with Pam. Measure milk and add vinegar. Set aside. In a large bowl, mix first seven ingredients together. In a small bowl, combine peanut butter, eggs, and soured milk until smooth. Mix gently into dry ingredients and fill muffin cups with 1/3 cup measure. Bake for 18-22 minutes. Makes 12 muffins.

(click here for printable recipe)

 

  

What have you created in your sacred space(s) this week?

Saddling Up

 

Saddling up indeed.  That's exactly what we're preparing to do here in Midcoast Maine -- with a measure of hope, stubborn determination, reluctance, dread, and acceptance.  The cure is nearly in sight, but the road ahead promises to be a challenging one.  Still.  And for the foerseeable future. 

And yet even in my anguish, there is -- thankfully -- good news to savor.  I have recovered well from my pre-Christmas surgery, the cancer has not spread, and the next phase of treatment is nearly upon us.  All small but important steps toward the cure we know is coming.  Eight rounds of chemo spread out over the next fourteen weeks is what will get me there.  And that leg of the journey begins on Friday morning.

Sitting here now, there is no way to know how these powerful medications will effect me.  There will likely be many challenging days ahead.  And side effects that reach beyond the physical.  Like losing my hair and finally looking -- and feeling -- like a cancer patient.  (Oh, how I dread that eventuality!)  Nausea is one thing.  Transforming physically -- and outwardly -- is quite another altogether.  Even though those changes are all temporary, their weight is mighty.

And yet ... the optimistic and accepting wisdom of my six-year-old daughter inspires me and touches me more deeply than I can convey.  When she learned that my hair will soon fall out, her reaction was this:  "Don't worry, Mumma.  You'll still be exactly the same on the inside."  

Incidentally, it was in that moment I realized -- finally -- that something was/is well within my control.  Thank you, Michaela.

And so, as we begin to dig in for the long haul, I will remain ever mindful of Michaela's spot-on declaration.  I may look different.  I may feel different.  But I am still me.  So I'll focus on my inner light until the outward vessel catches up ... many months from now.  That much, at least, I can do.

In the meantime, thanks for stopping by, checking in, e-mailing, and following along.  Your support and positivity are invaluable.  As are your prayers.  Even if you never share them with me.  They count and they matter.  Every. Single. Day.