Coffee makes life good

It wasn’t until age who-the-heck knows–somewhere after twenty-five and before sixty–that I embraced coffee.  Now I adore it!

But only iced with (shame on me) full-fat milk and stevia.  I pretend the stevia un-does the whole-milk damage.

Todays breakfast is in a wee teeny glass Jim stole from a bar in Hong Kong while on leave from Viet Nam.

I LOVE this little glass.  Jim maintains he swiped it just for me.  Since I am embracing the “manifest-your-future” thinking I pretend he knew I was–eventually–a part of his life.

It’s cute, right?  For a long time it lived in the garage holding pencils.  I only recently promoted it to kitchen favorite.

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Only about five inches tall.  I wonder if the Imperial Hotel still exists  Project for today:  Figure out if that Hotel is still in business.                                                              Note to self: DO NOT MAKE A RESERVATION.  I’ve had enough visits to China to last a lifetime.  Visiting China was a wonderful life experience.  Happy to have done it. Happy to have it in my rear-view mirror.

I have to amend the “no go to China” thing.  I would LOVE seeing Jim Peng, Maple and Miss Gao again.  They were an enormous gift in my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At sixty-five I forgot how to make my formerly fantastic Toll House Cookies. What’s happening to me?

I really messed up my last batch of chocolate chip cookies. This was SO wrong. Once upon a time I had amazing cookie baking tricks and a reputation to maintain. After a while baking chocolate chippers was like riding a bike. I knew how to do it and they were always awesome…

Until they weren’t.

On March first I made our neighbor, Brian, a batch of my Toll House cookies for his twentieth birthday. I’ve made them for him regularly and successfully in the nearly four years we’ve lived here.

But on March first something went horribly wrong. The cookies ran together in a big mushy mess. I managed to scrape them onto cooling racks, whereupon the middles dripped through the wires to the counter below. They were a dismal embarrassing failure.

I blamed it on humidity. I blamed it on the oven, the ingredients, the alignment of the stars. I blamed it on everything but human error. (ie myself)

I should have started over. Instead I chose to go with, “Well, it’s the thought that counts!” When I was able to kinda’ sorta’ move from racks to platter I displayed the least unfortunate ones on top. Brian ate them without complaint but Brian is twenty. Twenty year old boys eat everything without complaint.

Meanwhile my daughter Mo–the cookie baking hot-shot show off–keeps posting Instagram photos of her baking products. Snickerdoodles, Toll House, Oatmeal Raisin, chocolate ones with sinfully delicious looking chunks. This pictures shows perfectly browned, uniform French-bakery-shop-worthy beauties.

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Her latest miraculous cookies.  She likes to taunt me by sending these pictures.  It’s a good thing I love her.

How is this possible? I’m the cookie person in this family, dammit.

Finally I broke down and confessed I had lost the touch. I asked Mo for advice.

“Are you using a cookie scoop, Mom?” …..huh?

“What about silpat matts?”….and those are? My deaf ears translated that as “thilfad”, then “willgab”. She finally spelled it out “Stephen, Igloo, Lady, Patio, Alice, Too bad/so sad/can’t hear.”

“Do you have half sheets?”  This one I actually knew about from Ina Garten.

“Furthermore it’s best to weigh ingredients rather than measure by cups–flour settles. A cup isn’t always a cup. Oh by the way the best temperature is generally 350 degrees other than for chocolate chip, which I bake at 360.” ….again, huh?  I thought 375 degrees for chocolate chip cookies was a hard and fast rule.

All in all I figured out I really don’t know squat about cookie baking.
Immediately went to Amazon–bought the aforementioned scoop and silpat mats.

Today I decided to dive back into the cookie dough. I didn’t have ingredients for chocolate chips, plus I was still too cowed by my recent failure.

I made peanut butter cookies instead. I even snuck in some of Jim’s closely guarded Dove Dark Chocolate mini candies. The results? Not bad. Not as gorgeous as Mo’s though. Guess my next purchase is a scale for weighing the flour I can’t eat. Celiac Sprue, no gluten allowed….which is a good thing because I shouldn’t be eating cookies anyhow.

Check out these yummy confections. Yay me! No they aren’t as uniform as Mo’s, but I’m just a beginner.

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Day Two of Manifesting my new reality

My “Big Dream” has been to be a writer. Published, read by many, loved by most, making lots of big fat dollars and having fun doing it. My sister and brother-in-law have nipped at my heels to do this for years.

But those damn doubts always crept into my brain, “Why me, God?” Now I’m saying, “Why NOT me!” During my meditations I have asked BF (Benevolent Force aka Higher power aka God) to use me, put me where I’m supposed to be. I’ve started this blog! That’s writing, isn’t it? I’m writing for the Universe who will eventually stumble across this. Lots of them are sixty-five too.

I figured my blog would be all the writing I would be doing for the foreseeable future. Then, last night, my thirty-three year old daughter, Maureen (aka Mo), called me. She and I gabbed about this ‘n that. She told me she and her husband, Stephen, had watched the movie 20th Century Woman. Something about a single mother rearing a child through the 50’s and 60’s. Following the movie Mo and Stephen had a discussion about how they don’t know their parents. They know their mother. They know their father. However they don’t know them as humanoids outside of their roles as mom and dad.

She then asked me to—Drum Roll Please—WRITE! Yup, I asked the BF to use me. I asked BF to put me where I’m meant to be. And BF responded by giving me this blog, followed by giving me a request to write even more.

Possibly that little whisper inside my head, the one quietly repeating, “please please please write….”,
KNEW what my path was to be. I simply had to get outta’ my own way. Now I have.

Later today I’ll write my first few pages for Maureen.

But first to manifest a shower 🙂

All of you out there, have a great day! Dream big and believe. The Universe will give you all you want if you have faith.

Sixty-Five! And this is good because….

Most people aren’t thrilled about sixty-five. They think of it as the beginning of their last chapters on this planet.
Whooo Hoooo! I’m sixty-five! I’ve been sixty-five since November 28th, but only recently embraced it.

Sixty-Five is a turning point age. Like thirteen, without acne. Or sixteen, but already have a driver’s license.
Other turning point ages: Eighteen, Twenty-one, Forty….then they sort of go along for decades until you hit SIXTY-FIVE!
But here is why I have embraced sixty-five (other than Medicare): I read a TERRIFIC book and I’m planning to use the tools in that book to manifest the most awesome rest of my life possible.

The book, you ask? (Yes, there are many “yous” out there. Eventually, you will all find this brand spanking new blog and possibly ride along with me now and again.)

The book is You Are A Badass by Jen Sincero. It’s a fun read and quite convinced me that I can manifest anything I want in my life by the amazing wattage of hooking into my higher power. I think of my higher power as “BF”—aka Benevolent Force. Sometimes I call BF God. But mostly I call BF “best friend.”

Check out Jen’s best selling book at jensincero.com

This refreshing down to earth fun funny little book is my starting point for rocking the rest of my life.
She maintains we can manifest anything we want in our lives simply by the power of our thoughts! Everything we desire is already HERE, we simply have to believe and BF mixed with our beliefs will pop that no longer elusive marvelous item right into our world. How cool is that?

I tested this yesterday in the packed parking lot of our local Publix grocery store. Not one single open space to be found. So I said to myself, “Yes there is. There is an open space quite near the entrance.” Lo and Behold, just as I thunk it a car pulled out of the exact perfect spot and we pulled in. Now that is quite the ideal litmus test, eh?

There’s lots more. Like the little line “….and this is good because.” More on that tomorrow. Now I’m off to manifest clean laundry. 👏20170326_192704     go buy the book!  It’s terrific.          jen sincero