The Autodidact

     Two recent news stories have made me ponder the darkness of the human heart: the case of the Steubenville football players, and the sentencing of the Chardon shooter. In both cases, some disturbing videos of both young men were shared by the news media. Looking into their eyes and listening to their words left me cold.  Very apparent was their depth of evil, their lack of common decency.  I recovered from the chill, consoled by the fact that I am not as bad as those two boys; grateful that I'm sane and well-mannered, usually loving and caring. But are we really that different? Am I really any better than those boys who have tickets to prison?      Easter is coming; a time of celebrating Spring and new life, the end of winter. But in the celebration, our culture usually loses sight of what the holiday signifies. We get all wrapped up in chocolate candy and new outfits, flowers blooming and the promise of warmer weather; and we forget that, wh...

I needed some chocolate. Again. So I consulted my trusty Betty Crocker Cookie Cookbook, and found a recipe billed as the best cookie of 1935-1940. I played around with it a bit, making it only half as bad for you, or half good for you, depending on if you are a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty sort of person. Me, I see them as half good for me, and ate them with no guilt! Combine 2/3 cup coconut oil, 2/3 cup butter, 1/2 cup sugar and 1/2 cup sucanat. Mix until creamy. Add 2 eggs and 2 teaspoons vanilla; mix well. Mix together in a separate bowl: 2 1/2 cups flour (I used a pre-mixed blend of flour that is 30% whole wheat and 70% white), 1/2 cup whole wheat, 1 teaspoon baking soda,1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon of vital wheat gluten and 1 teaspoon of dough enhancer. Add to the creamed mixture. Mix in 2 cups chocolate chips and 1/2 cup chopped nuts. Bake for 10-12 minutes at 375. They were crispy and coconut oil gave them a wonderful flavor. Unfortunately, they were so good, t...

     Nineteen years ago, I gave birth to our first son. A lifetime ago.  You can read more about that  here  in a previous blog. That year, Jay and I planted a Rose of Sharon in our front yard, since it blooms in August, when our little boy should have been born. It was a little, scrawny bush, much like little Andrew. But that little bush grew and grew and GREW. Years later, we moved from that house into our present house. The Rose of Sharon was too big to take with us and plant in our new yard. We kept the old house and rented it out, and I knew I could go see my tree and pick its blossoms in the summer, but I was heartbroken that it would not be in my new front yard. But the first summer we lived there, a Rose of Sharon popped up, yes, in my front yard! It was too young to bloom that summer, but it has bloomed every August after, and now stands tall and beautiful.      Now, I didn't need that tree in my yard, I just wanted one. But God, wh...

     There have been many articles recently in the local papers about a teachers' strike in Strongsville. I do not know the particulars about the reasons for the strike, nor am I writing to address those reasons. But there are a couple of things that I find bothersome in the responses to this, and, really, any teacher strike. This Sunday's paper had an editorial written by a former educator, Matthew Langlais, imploring people to support the striking teachers. (If you wish to read the article, you can find it online if you search for: Plain Dealer Strongsville teachers deserve community support).      One of the things I notice whenever there is a teacher strike is how quickly the local school falls apart and meaningful education is thrown out the window. Why does this happen? I believe it shows how, as a culture, we have become completely dependent on the government to educate our children. No one seems to know what to do when the teachers strike; there is...

Here's an easy Italian bread recipe, adapted from a recipe I saw in Mother Earth News. This costs a mere fraction of store bought and is so easy to make. It's wonderful dipped in olive oil and makes awesome toast the next morning, and even works nicely for sandwiches. Best of all, there are only 4 ingredients: water, yeast, salt and flour. You can even refrigerate some of the dough in a sealed container and bake bread throughout the week as needed. I have done this and though the refrigerated dough does not make bread as tasty as the fresh dough, it's still good. The recipe is at the end. I used a combination of unbleached white flour and a half whole wheat/half white four blend that I get from Costco. Sometimes I use all white, and sometimes I use all 1/2 and 1/2, but a combination seems to work the best for me. Pour the water, yeast and salt in the mixer and let proof for a couple of minutes, then add the flour one cup at a time while the mixer is running. When the d...

Someone once told me that the best time to plant a tree is 10 years ago (or maybe it was 20). And today, I realized how true this is. A little over 10 years ago, we moved into our present house. We had three little children and one on the way. But there were no suitable climbing trees in the yard. So, one of the first things I had Jay do was plant a maple tree in the front yard, and one in the back. The one in the back yard has not done as well as the one in the front, although we did have birds nesting in it for the first time last spring. But the one in the front yard has flourished, and is now big enough for that little baby I was pregnant with years ago to climb it! Today he's climbing a tree, but in the blink of an eye, he'll be climbing to reach his dreams. 10 years ago was the perfect time for us to plant a tree, and I am so glad we did. This brings me much joy!

Tiny and feeble, wrinkled and tired, she came, eyes full of tears, eyes that couldn't see. Needy and unsure, demanding and awake, she gave less than she would take. Crawling and falling, wanting to walk, striving to talk. Leaping and bounding, reaching, seeking look at me, what do you see? Trusting, leaning, uncertainty and doubt, little one give me your heart. Discovering and learning, becoming and turning in front of the mirror, to see what she could see. Stretching, trying, yearning, for life to start, she found feelings in her heart, but was afraid to let anyone see. Stretching, unfolding her wings, she is trying to fly, waiting for the time to go by, so she can soar. Soon she will fly away not sure where she will light but she'll find the current and take flight. Fly, little bird, climb to the clouds, the sun, the race is now yours to run. I see her, my eyes never turned, I am watching her heart,  and ...