While I was on vacation up to Erie I received exciting news! I saw this blog has reached 100 subscribers! It made my day. I am so grateful to everyone who has subscribed. You guys are amazing! I appreciate every view, every visitor, every like. It’s given me purpose in a season of transition, helped me get back into writing, and drawing, and feel more comfortable sharing Potato Technology designs online. It has also been a rewarding way to connect with people worldwide which I find exciting.
I’m hoping in time to connect more, and maybe keep comments on my posts to get to know you more. I’m just shy and scared of getting hate comments when I want this to be a safe space. Maybe in 2025? I’ll keep trying to be brave.
I’m looking forward to sharing bits about my trip and some more sewing and knitting projects I’ve completed in September. September was a busy month! I think heading into October, I’ve needed a break. It was good to get away and refresh. I’ve been feeling a bit of writer’s block the past week so I took a small break from the blog too, hoping to have renewed my creativity!
Thank you, dear reader, for such an amazing milestone! I hope you have a wonderful day and that I see you around the blog again. There are many exciting things I have planned that I would love to share with you. I hope you know that you are loved and worthy just as you are.
How are you doing? I know you guys are doing well. You’re together, and you’re not in pain anymore. You guys are not separate and are feeling the healing of that yourself.
It’s been a journey here without you guys. It got a bit scary for a while. Things got weird and frightening, but after four years, things are feeling familiar and more like usual. I didn’t think it could be possible, but I guess deep down I knew it could be, because you both found a new normal after losing your parents. I guess I felt guilty and strange letting my life go on without you for myself. It wasn’t what I wanted and I resisted healing for a season because I was in denial.
I found this composer, a fellow I think you with the proper introduction to his music, would be a person you guys would enjoy. He has the emotion and the beautiful storytelling in his music that I remember you both liking. His name is Joe Hisaishi. He composed the music for several films from a company called Studio Ghibli which I think you would prefer to Disney in this current moment. It took me a while to appreciate Hayao Miyazaki’s storytelling because it was so different from what the Disney formula is. The cultural parts, I think took the longest.
I know Japan was a bit of a mystery to you guys just based on your generation. You grew up with a different version – the Imperial Japan bombing of Pearl Harbor and the War in the Pacific were your first introduction as kids, growing up during WWII. It was a cultural relationship that did not have a chance to bloom.
My generation had a different introduction to their culture – sushi, ramen, Hello Kitty, anime, Studio Ghibli, Ninja Warrior, Harajuku fashion, and Nintendo. It was a different side of Japan. In college a professor you would know, Doyle, hosted a class about East Asian Film and Literature. It was quite the overview for one semester mind you, but in that short time he showed us some pieces of storytelling I still remember like Hero, Red Wall, and Princess Mononoke.
The last one, Princess Mononoke was a Ghibli film, my first one. The illustrations were incredible and the message felt so familar because of the region we all lived in – the rust belt. But what captured my admiration the most was the music. It was stirring, haunting, sad and hopeful, a courageous melody that swept over me in its beauty.
A few years later, Kyle and I watched My Neighbor Totoro which is such a heartwarming tale. This one set me on a new goal – I need to see Japan before I die so I can see those rural vistas captured in the illustrations of Totoro. I started learning Japanese since you’ve gone, which is a story for another time, but this probably sparked that journey.
This image from Totoro makes me think of the times we would go puddle jumping together, Papa, when I was a little kid. You made life so magical, both of you.
Anyways, there’s a song in particular, Grandma, that I think you would love. Actually I think you would love to play. The one recording of it on the album I was listening to has a piano solo by Hisaishi that has the same fervor and candence of the style you played in. I can close my eyes and pretend we’re in your piano room, you’re talking away as your playing it, and the room is filled the sound of the keys. This song is called the Merry-Go-Round of Life from the film Howl’s Moving Castle. (One I still need to watch.)
I wish I could play it for you. I wish I could play all of his songs for you. I wish we could listen to them on the boom box in the kitchen as Papa and I sat on the stools along the counter and tried to coax you, Grandma to just settle in and listen instead of tidying or cooking, or wandering around the way you used to.
I miss you. But I’m trying to not dwell on what I cannot change.
We did something incredibly comforting this past weekend that gave us both a small delight. We went apple picking at our favorite orchard – Heagy’s Orchard in Northwestern Pennsylvania. It was the first time going back in four years and everything felt shinier, and happier, like the slump of the 2020s had shed and the area we used to haunt had come back to life, and so did I.
The interesting thing is I think now we instinctively felt like it was apple season at Heagy’s Orchard because these photos were taken on the same weekend, years apart, picking the same varieties of apples. None of it was planned. The pictures of my husband in the yellow plaid are from our first fall in Meadville in 2019, taken on Sept 5. The ones of me in a flannel and him in a hoodie are from Sept 7, 2020. And the first grouping, above, is from this past weekend, Sept 7, 2024.
How weird is that? I didn’t know we had a family tradition, him and I, but apparently we do and it was special to go back after such a long hiatus. Leaving Meadville-Erie area, a place that became home to us both after feeling like nowhere was home no matter how far we moved or how hard we tried in familiar places, was such a relief. Having to leave our home under the unfortunate circumstances of a dangerous living situation sucked.
It was frustrating that it was because drug dealers moved into the bottom unit of the house we were renting, with a considerable amount of domestic violence going on with them too, and the police doing little to nothing about it, which was despicable! There was so much pain and suffering in that situation. It only got worse when it became a squatting situation, the air was tense, and there was a gun. Not something you want to mess with. But not being able to fix the situation was a heartbreak that I shoved down in a box, to be left until I was ready.
Our new neighborhood in our new town where we lived from 2021 to the beginning of 2024, was like a high-strung Bailey Downs from Orphan Black, it never felt like home and so I had to keep that box shut and therefore couldn’t go to Erie or Meadville without feeling this rogue frustration, that until I returned there this past weekend, I couldn’t figure out why I was so frustrated and scared of the big emotion, But now I understand, it was a lack of acceptance compounded with the confusion of the dumpster fire that was 2020.
It was a lot of change in quick succession and my neurodivergent brain didn’t know what to do with in the moment, so I shut down. I was afraid I made a mistake leaving although I felt isolated and lonely after 2020, moving closer to family felt like oxygen. I’m glad in buying a house we are still able to go back up to the Meadville and Erie areas, because I realized I’m not done with that area, I just needed to be done with that living situation, and in turn, I really needed to get out of that suburban hell I fled to afterward to go back and see the place that made me feel home again.
The nature is just too pretty to be away from it for too long. There are these incredible ridges that stretch out in every direction. Fields, forests, creeks, ponds, marshes, and the closer you get to the lake it gets flatter until the big blue horizon meets you. It’s incredible. Is there a place or a tradition that helped you feel at home again after going through a tough time?
Today we’re having one of those, I hope, last big temperature swings up into the 90 degrees Fahrenheit for the season. I’ve always struggled in the heat, I get heat-sick pretty easily and feel like I’m in a fog. This is why living in coastal Georgia was never going to work no matter how cool the people were or how beautiful the scenery. But it wasn’t until this summer that I considered what would I do without access to a shower, or a steady supply of clean water to drink?
Light of Life Rescue Mission has opened my eyes to this. This summer the mission, through the leadership of Rev. Jerrel T. Gilliam, has been working to draw attention to the homeless community in Pittsburgh and what they are experiencing in the waves of heat without having the amenities and resources many of us, me included take for granted.
Hope and Love Transform Communities
This mission is based in Pittsburgh, PA. I first learned of the mission through my teachers at school who would lead drives to collect hygiene items and socks to distribute to men experiencing homelessness in our nearby city of Pittsburgh. The mission has now expanded to offer assistance to men, women, and children experiencing homelessness through their Street Outreach Team and shelter locations within the city. The mission started in 1952 as a soup kitchen and has expanded to include a men’s shelter, a food pantry, a women’s and children’s shelter, a recovery place, and a free clothing store.
The mission came again on my radar while watching the Kindness Diaries when host Leon is hosted by a man who is experiencing homelessness, who offers him a place to stay at the mission. How incredible is that? It’s like the widow’s offering.
At the time I was experiencing a time of financial insecurity. I was about to go through a season that could have led to being without a roof over my head. Without the privilege of family members to help me until I could get back on my feet, I’m not sure where I would have been. This season of life changed me dramatically. It changed how I saw the world.
It broke my heart for the members of my community who are not as fortunate to have family and need people to step up into the gap and help. I was determined, that once I got through this period I wanted to support this mission through financial contribution and I have done this. And by supporting this mission, I’ve continued to learn how much kindness and generosity change everything.
Of course, because I am a flawed human I got distracted by work once I was back to being employed and lost a few years in my own world, but thankfully God was relentless in putting this on my heart. I’m grateful for His willingness to not give up on us even when we are unfaithful workers.
Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”
Mark 12:41-44 NIV
The simple yet impactful work of the Street Outreach Team to go out daily conduct wellness checks, and distribute water, food, and hygiene items within the homeless encampments in Pittsburgh makes a huge difference. Inviting people back to the mission and doing this every day – this is how we make a difference.
It’s about remembering people who go unseen in our individualistic and capitalist society and showing up for them every day. It shirks the standard, the lie that if you don’t have financial means or stuff you don’t matter.
Yeah, it’s sick. But it is modern society. Actually, it’s always been a part of our societies from Victorian workhouses to the beggars at the gates in the Bible, it’s a human problem to ignore those in our world who need community the most.
We Will Not Be Shaken
When the city of Pittsburgh decided to clear out homeless encampments by force, Light of Life stood up to challenge the approach of the city officials and make them consider the root cause of the problem, the systemic problem, instead of ignoring the problem.
Like many cities around the United States, Pittsburgh is experiencing rising homelessness within the population. Some of this is due to the housing crisis, but also the affordability of housing is changing within the city, and there is an unaddressed drug problem on the rise that is not being dealt with. Addiction and homelessness can go hand in hand, so why not address the addiction problem too?
This is what Light of Life offers at their rescue mission in addition to dignity, community, and a way forward for families and individuals who are struggling to uplift them and equip them for the bright and secure futures they can have. It’s about hope.
I think too often we overlook how much mental health can wreck our lives.
When I was struggling to find steady employment after college, I felt depressed and anxious because I was working hard to find a job but the jobs simply didn’t exist. I was living frugally but I still had to give up my apartment and move back in with my mom because I ran out of money.
I was incredibly depressed during this season and I isolated myself due to my embarrassment when I really needed people to talk to about these feelings to be able to move forward. This is what the work of the Light of Life Rescue Mission aims to do, by challenging the culture, to show up for our neighbors instead of ignoring them in their time of need.
I believe this mindset is what we need in our world, more than ever after the worldwide trauma of 2020, and how that disconnected us all. We need to bring our sense of community back instead of isolating ourselves behind technology or accumulating things to feel little hints of joy. We need each other. We need true joy, hope, love, and peace.
Most importantly, we need to remember that people deserve dignity. To think beyond our little spheres. It’s a daily challenge for me, I get so wrapped up in my stuff, and that’s not what is important. Like remembering that heat waves or cold weather can have severe consequences for those in our communities who are living without. So as the summer sizzles on and we look to the cold ahead, how can we all make a difference for those around us who need support?
This weekend started off a little bit wild. At first, it was a normal Saturday, a day we decided to run errands and do normal things we had been unable to get done during the week. Nothing crazy, just the normal chaos of navigating the stores in our town that was feeling extra Stars Hollow-y that day.
Then four o’clock hit and things got wild. It started with some gray clouds rolling in from the northwest. Nothing too crazy, a bit dark, but they seemed like rain clouds, not a grand thunderhead. We had plans to go to Keystone Safari towards the end of the day, which is all outside, a little rain wouldn’t ruin it.
Strike One
But then the dark clouds began to produce lightning and thunder rumbles, so we checked the radar, nothing big just a passing shower. So I continued to get ready to leave and that’s when the rain began to come down in a deluge, the wind kicked up and the lighting put on a grand finale. We were engulfed in a full-on banger of a storm with the culmination crescendoing in a palpable strike and immediate thunder so loud it felt like it happened on our street.
In fact, it did. The lighting struck the transformer up the road and we were now in the middle of a storm with our power gone. My first thought was the fridge and the freezer, and the dinner I was really hungry for. Downright hangry. We had built a fire pit earlier in the day with bricks and I had passed on getting a snack at Sheetz because I was excited about the dinner I would cook. I opted for Mt. Dew and that caffeine was hitting hard.
My mind was moving a mile a minute because I was genuinely surprised. There had been no forecast of storms, barely any rain on the radar. There had been no warning from our local college’s severe storm alert system or even a lightning or severe storm alert from the weather apps. Actually, before the big bolt of lightning hit the transformer, I was ready to get in the car. I’m really glad I decided to wait for the rain to slow down or we would’ve been outside for that and that would’ve been sketchy. This just furthers my frustration with those tornado and storm sirens, this may have been a good time to use them!
Community Matters
What turned into an unexpected evening of silence, the neighborhood I learned is downright silent without air conditioners running, it was actually a time of fellowship. It reminded me of what would happen after a big storm in the neighborhood I lived in as a kid, the neighbors would head outside and check on each other. So this storm which in my hanger felt like a big slap in the face, became a way to meet and bond with my neighbors.
They’re all so nice and warm. Especially compared to the neighborhood we lived in before we bought this house, which was cold. Our neighbors called the power company immediately to report the issue and started checking on people. I met people all around us and had a blast doing it. I even learned more about the property we bought and its history. It truly was turning lemons into lemonade.
Thankfully the power connection was able to be fixed twice. After an hour in a half, which was incredibly fast, the workers were able to repair our line for a few minutes until we heard a loud pop. It was out again, but it didn’t last and they were able to replace all the necessary parts. Most importantly, no one was hurt.
Wallaby, Pygmy Hippo, and a Cloud Leopard
The rest of the weekend, including the two days of vacation my husband took at the beginning of the week were blissfully uneventful and we got to catch up on some things we hadn’t done yet this year because of the move and other distractions. We finally got to Living Treasures to see the Cloud Leopard, the Pygmy Hippotamus, and the sweetest little wallabies and juvenile kangaroos. Walking around the park and getting to be around animals brings me so much joy. Same with Keystone Safari, it is such a calming place to reset and unplug.
The weather after that storm has been spectacular. There has been a coolness, a crispness that feels like autumn is closer than we think. Some of the leaves are already changing. The sky has been spooky and rainy, like a mist that only happens in October. Autumn and spooky season is the time of the year I crave so it has been a wonderful surprise to see highs in the low 60s Fahrenheit and lows in the upper 40s Fahrenheit in August! I can’t wait for all the fall things! 🙂
I’d say overall this little staycation was a great way to reset but most importantly, by losing power and having to lean on the kindness of strangers, I feel like I have settled into this place. It’s starting to feel like home. I also learned to trust my observation skills, and really be skeptical of the meteorologist. I know they have made huge advances lately in technology but dang, they dropped the ball this weekend for me. I think education on how storms work and how to be safe is better than these apps because they fail and there’s really nothing we can do about it. Aside from petting baby goats, that really seemed to lift my spirits this weekend. 10/10 recommend.
Since we settled in here, I’ve had a rough time. I’m not sleeping well consistently. It’s been a challenge to let down after a season of being on guard, on point, agile, and ready to work. I’ve felt behind on my own timelines after my workroom was boxed up and put into storage for a few weeks.
It was just a few weeks, but it felt longer, and I know why. I’ve been convicted of this as I’ve been reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan. My timeline and my plan were interrupted and that frustrated me. I am struggling with both control and pride. Woah, goosebumps. My grandma would be so pleased that I am talking about this.
Pride and Control
In the scary moments, God took over and directed my life and my steps from April 27 to June 7. In the meantime, I had to fully surrender my time and my trust to Him. I did and everything did turn out fine, better than expected. It was a big moment of growth for me, as a member of a little club called ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ instead of trusting in faith. This was a big step.
But as human nature and sin go, as soon as things got easier I began to slack off. I have been a huge slacker in my quiet time with the Lord, in both prayer and consistently reading His word and dwelling on its meaning. We are called as believers to meditate on His word, instead I’ve been filling my head with other things. My focus shifted from God’s plan back to my desires.
I’ve felt this intense pressure to not let myself rest. To work, work harder, and don’t stop. I’ve been obsessing about how to make money with skills to provide again. How to feel validation and success in this big life step that has made me feel out of control. I’ve been craving the ability to make money, build our savings back up, quickly pay back the mortgage, and “feel safe” after such a big financial step.
How am I “unsafe” or in danger now though? This sentiment has been marinating in my brain for too long. I know why. I have not been properly nourishing my soul, nor have I been renewing my mind.
Wake Up Call
God provided everything and more when I was in danger of my life falling apart. This happened because I humbled myself and did it His way. I let Him lead. I’ve been convicted by the truth that Francis Chan points to in his chapter, Profile of the Obsessed. I woke me up to what I’m working towards and what I’m obsessed with and neither of those aligns with where my life was oriented towards through giving up control and letting God lead. I can’t just wrangle the control back because I’m scared. I have no idea where I’m headed, but God does so it is a lot safer to let Him lead.
I’ve been convicted by Chan’s words of truth that my actions since the house purchase and move-in have not been in my best interest, because I’ve given into my need for control. Sadly this demonstrates my lack of trust and faith, like a” micromanaging boss. I’ve told myself that I “know” better. This is too much to take on with the resources God has provided. The math is not mathing. I need to “fix” this on my own.
Oof, I sound like a rude, self-centered jerk.
The worst part? I am treating my Creator like this. I am ashamed.
Acceptance and Second Chances
Every time I think I’ve matured past my pride and need to control my life, this behavior rears its ugly head. But thankfully this past week, I’ve had to slow down and log off. My allergies went from 0-60 as ragweed pollen bloomed, my lack of sleep caught up to me and I began to feel worn out. Our internet has gone out twice and in those times I got my head out of Instagram, out of my to-do list, and away from blog posts and knitting deadlines, to read Crazy Love. Crazy Love is a book I started reading in the Spring, that I completely abandoned this summer because I was busy with other things. But without videos or music or scrolling to distract me, I found the quiet moment to get back to what was important. My relationship with my Saviour and getting nourished through God’s truth, this time by the encouragement and theology of Crazy Love.
In every page I’ve read in the past week, I’ve felt humbled and challenged to consider where my focus lies and where it should be. It has shifted to myself and my own wants, instead of God and his Kingdom. Safety and success I’ve put above what brings Him glory for my own. How can I ever expect to succeed without Him? Especially when everything good in my life comes from Him and at the end of the day is His.
The worst part is that my generous hand, who was fulfilled and rejoiced in giving, has been too scared about money to give with the same abandon and joy that I used to do. Because I’ve been worrying about money, seeing it with a scarcity mindset instead of abundance and gratitude for what I have. I am not talking about manifesting here, I’m talking about true gratitude and recognition for the provision of God. I’ve been doing this and not trusting in God to provide for my needs.
It happens so quick. I feel like Peter after the rooster crowed the third time. Or like the Israelites asking to go back to Egypt after God parted the Red Sea and delivered them from their captors because freedom was unfamiliar so they were afraid and would rather go back to the bondage they knew.
There’s a line in the song ‘Looking for a Place to Happen’ by the Tragically Hip that says, “Where they’d stamp on burning bags of sh*t.” Yeah, I feel like my efforts this summer, pushing instead of trusting, worrying instead of praying have been as useful as stomping on burning bags of poop.
Thankfully God is a God of agape love and second chances for those who humble themselves, repent, and follow Him. So that’s what I need to be doing this month. Resetting back to what sustains me, that is God, not my own effort. It’s humbling and freeing.
I find inspiration abundant when I am at home, my “home” home. The way my mom decorates brings me happiness! From the colors to the textures, it is a layered cake. There are some pieces that are quite old and have lived full lives before they found their way here. Others have a story, a memory attached that I think of, or a purchase memory itself, on one of our many mother-daughter outings as a kid. As I look forward to the future of decorating my own house, the warmth, and joy I feel being here is something I cherish and hope to instill into the new home we are about to settle into.
Candlesticks of glass, metal, and wood drawn in pencil and oil pastel on paper.
Wild Blue Phlox reference photo.In real life this log was in decay, weathered by tne seasons. It was a cornicopia of shades.Version 2 from the reference picture with correct color variation.Version 1 of the flower from memory. The hopeful renewal of the flower with beautiful decay of the wood. An odd yet striking combination.Pencil sketch to determine shape and lines. It also helps mark out textures.
In Portal 2, Cave Johnson has an iconic rant about lemons that may have been the inspiration for my Saturday plan – to make dairy-free lemon curd from scratch.
To clarify, no lemons were exploded. But they were zested, juiced, and combined into a luscious lemon sauce and baked into lemon bars. Tart, sweet, buttery, lemon bars.
“All right, I’ve been thinking, when life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade! Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life’s manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I’m the man whose gonna burn your house down – with the lemons! I’m gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!”
-Cave Johnson, Aperture Laboratories
But why did Cave Johnson speak so deeply to my mood on Saturday morning, one of the best times of the week? Well my dysfunctional family, of course. Communication is truly an art form, and for some relationships, healthy communication seems as easy as replicating a Michelangelo masterpiece with a butter knife. I am a member of that club. I feel like sometimes a conversation with my mom is doomed from the start. I call her and there is something in the air. A mistaken tone she finds in me, a lack of matching her extroverted, neurotypical energy.
The inability to recognize drama or harshness in her tone. My anxiety and frustration at being accosted by questions, picking remarks, or in general still not living up to whatever I was supposed to. It’s a mess, a mess that continues to respawn after numerous attempts to get rid of this and live a drama-free life with the mom that I do deeply love even if sometimes I get exasperated at her. This was one of those conversations, I did something and the verbal missiles were locking on me, which was really disappointing because it was supposed to be a simple conversation – what time are you coming up to celebrate my husband’s birthday?
Instead, there was chaos, my confusion at why there was chaos with questions followed by accusations of trying to fight and being told I was being a problem, gaslit into the aggressor when I held my temper in check and just asked questions. There seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. I was being baited into a fight and it sucked. It was a conversational sucker punch. Some weeks I don’t even want to pick up the phone, I yearn to move far away from the possibility of hanging out with her, because I just want to be loved not picked at. Being lonely but happy feels better than being close and miserable. I feel like she brings all the drama-ma-ma-ma-ma and then runs away from me after her work is done.
In the screaming silence that followed the nasty encounter, I felt confusion, anger, hurt, sadness, failure, shame, disappointment, a building pressure of anxiety and depression, and the complex childhood trauma memories flooding back of her gaslighting me into thinking I was a kid with an un-teachable spirit, a stubborn child who spirit needed to be broken because seeing things differently from her was a sin.
I feel sorry for my mom because none of those things are true, and keeping me at arm’s length hurts both of us. We only have so much time on this earth, wouldn’t it be better to be laughing instead of arguing, smiling instead of crying?
I’ve learned there is nothing wrong with me. I’m neuro-divergent and God made me this way for a reason. There is beauty in being different, but she can’t see that. She sees me as difficult, and I in turn see her as small-minded.
Recently, I’ve turned to baking when I feel down in the dumps. For a while, baking was quite painful for me, after Grandma passed away in 2020. She was the one who taught me how to bake and that void made baking a chore. Since watching the Great British Bake Off, I’ve found my baking delight once again. We had a bunch of lemons on hand for a separate recipe, and since the rest needed to be used, I decided to make something I’d never made from scratch before. Lemon curd.
They make it on Bake-Off and I used to love eating lemon bars and lemon meringue pie as a kid, it was Papa’s favorite pie. We had it each year on his birthday. It was the bomb. The tart, lemony sharpness of the filling with the pillowy sweet clouds of meringue on top, slightly browned like a marshmallow with a flakey crust. Scrumptious.
Fun fact: My grandma dressed, acted, and looked a lot like Mary Berry. Watching Bake Off is like a hug.
And you know what, baking helped. I felt the tension melt from my shoulders as I zested the lemons and squeezed the juice into the bowl. The delicacy of separating yolks from egg whites required me to slow down, to breathe through the emotional stress. I made a cup of herbal tea and began work on the sugar and butter. After combining it came time to use the bain-marie to slowly temper the eggs and cook until thickened. The result was a dreamy curd that I was hoping for!
Out of pain, something beautiful came, and the next day I made shortbread for the lemon bars and layered the golden yellow lemon sauce into the pan for a delight I hadn’t had since childhood. Next time we’ll make that lemon meringue pie.
I’m glad I’ve learned coping mechanisms like baking, cleaning, stimming, etc so that I am not tempted to rage at my mom, clench my jaw, get drunk, or go on a shopping spree to fill the pain with stuff. It’s been a journey but through my tumultuous twenties, I learned that the dysfunction is never going away but who I am and how I respond to it are not beholden to other people and their poor behavior. And that is true freedom.
Have you ever made lemon curd? Do you like lemon meringue pie or lemon bars? What’s your go-to way to calm down after a stressful encounter? Thank you, dear reader, for coming along on this blogging journey with me. I’m incredibly thankful for you.
One Rabbit Riot 