White Feather Farms, Coffee, and Grams

Today, I spent the day meditating, going to our local co-op, White Feather Farms, having coffee with a good friend, and wishing that I could somehow make my grandma better or petition God to let her die. Tomorrow is her 85 birthday and she will spend it lying somewhere in the already but not yet. She doesn’t remember any of us. She just lays there moaning. I had to pour grape juice into her mouth and coax her into swallowing it, wipe her mouth, and then coat her lips with waxy chapstick so she wouldn’t pick her lips right off her face. She can’t suck from a straw. She can’t understand why we want her to eat. She asked me, yesterday, if my grandpa, who has been dead for 30 years, told me when she gets to go home. I hate it that other people have to make decisions for her, and it might sound mean that I want her to just go ahead and die, but I want her to be able to be with my grandpa. I don’t want for people to have to pour things in to her mouth and make her swallow. I want her to be feisty and bowling and baking and cooking her really bad over-cooked green beans or her amazing Christmas cookies. I want her to bitch and fuss over the way my mom and I make baklava. I want her to keep buying jogging suits even though she has a closet full of them already: Goolagong. I am not heartless, I just can’t stand to watch this crabby old lady laying there like a two-year old grunting out her answers from between her gums because she doesn’t remember what her teeth are for.

Stuff from my other, old, defunct blog. I love chocolate chip cookies. I grew up watching cookie monster, and I find absolutely nothing wrong with his insistence that cookies are amazing! I could eat pizza, spaghetti, chocolate chip cookies, or ice cream for every meal. I would and do argue that these four foods are possibly modern-day manna given to us by God for our sustenance. Perhaps, I don’t wake up to find chocolate chip cookies covering the ground in the morning, but I do try to pretend sometimes that I have my own spaghetti tree. Have you ever read the kids book More Spaghetti I Say? While it does err on the side of the carnivorous, I have to say it is how I feel about spaghetti. Really, it’s the way I feel about most food.

Since becoming a vegan a mere 19 days ago, I have had this intense craving for chocolate chip cookies precisely everyday, but more intensely this week since, as I have indicated, I have been feeling a little frumpy and PMSish. PMS always incites the chocolate fervor that lies dormant in me the rest of the time. I may have said before that I like caramel or vanilla flavor ten times more than chocolate. But there is something about putting it in a cookie that really turns me on a bit. I was inspired by some mix that my brother had in the car. It was bananas, chocolate chips, nut, etc, so I decided to go out on a limb and make my cookies with bananas, too. They are fabulous! And, since I used carob chips, they are absolutely animal free!

I also get the bonus of Becky’s homemade spaghetti sauce, which is the best sauce I have ever had and different every time. I have to say that I am excited about dinner tonight. And since More Spaghetti I Say is about monkeys and monkeys eat bananas (or in the case of the book, spaghetti), I should have myself a little after dinner reading time too.

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