Life Is A Piece of Cake.

Just go with me on this.

You know this 25-year-old, unattached, hardly (financially) stable girl can't possibly be comparing this crazy, messy, rough and rocky thing called life to a sweet and satisfying piece of cake. Believe me, I'm not.

I went to church this last Sunday. For those of you who knew me back in the days of walking on my tip-toes, singing in front of family members (sometimes with a four-year-old crafted spotlight), and bossing my younger brother around, you know that I come from two wonderfully made, strong, Christian parents. I was in church every Sunday. Attended Sunday school. Never missed a Youth Group meeting. I am so thankful for my upbringing. And thankful that I grew out of the prancing on my toes and hogging the attention phase. My brother is also thankful I quit making him play school and house with me. I am also holding fast to the statement that I did, in fact, grow out of the hogging the attention phase. Some of you may beg to differ.

No matter if I like a little attention or not. That's not my point.

Church on Sunday. I must point out that I do not attend church every Sunday. I am not perfect, neither is my church attendance since leaving my parents home. But what I was raised on, and what I truly believe, is having faith in God. This is not a preachy-preachy blog post...so those of you who were just about to stop reading, please continue.

Before I get to my point, which I'm sure you think I had forgotten about, let's talk about cake. I'm a sugar addict. A choco-holic. A cookie-craving, ice-cream dreaming, obsessed with the sugary, sweet stuff freak. It's quite the diet killer. But it's quite the delicious addiction. I am usually pretty good about silencing my inner candy-coated demons that seduce me with their delicious yet high-calorie concoctions every time I see a freshly baked cookie, a pretty little cupcake, or a big chocolate cake. But sometimes a girl just has to give in and have a cookie. Or two. Or three. Hey. There is no judgment here.

Imagine my delight, and the groans of my ever-growing hunger as the sermon grew closer and closer to lunch time, when the pastor began to use cake as an analogy in his sermon. The sermon, I must add, was on hope. And that hope is not that God will give us exactly what we want, but that having hope in Him is that He will make everything work out for our greater good and for His glory. Of course we do have to hand over the reigns of our control-obsessed lives to Him and have that hope. But it is so worth the ride when God is at the reigns and not us.

Life is not perfect. It's full of ups and downs that give us bruises and scars all along the way. And at times, and on more than one occasion on the roller coaster of life, it is very hard. Is see it as drowning in muddy water. You can't see where you are going, which way is up or down, but you are fighting for your life and searching for the life saver. But we aren't meant to do it on our own. God created us. He never intended to leave us. He is our life saver.

Back to the cake. Isn't cake good? I love all cakes, but I have to admit, I have an extra-sweet spot for rainbow chip cake with rainbow chip frosting. I truly am a child at heart. If you have ever made a cake, which most of you surely are able to with the help of Betty Crocker, you know that it takes certain ingredients. At the very least it is cake mix, eggs, vegetable oil, and water. Besides the water, would any of these things be good on their own? Raw eggs? I do have a not-so-secret crush/obsession with Sylvester Stallone aka Rocky and HE ate raw eggs....but I don't recommend it to normal humans as a tasty treat. Vegetable oil? Besides rubbing oil on myself and sitting in the hot sun for a golden glow, I can't say I would ingest that on its own either. And dry cake mix? I was once dared to eat a spoon full of cinnamon for $20. I thought I was going to die of suffocation by cinnamon after the innocent looking powder coated my entire mouth and throat and filled my lungs. I don't recommend it. So I'd nix the dry cake mix snacking as well.

And for those of you over-achievers that bake cakes from scratch, there are plenty of other non-appetizing ingredients that go into the kind of cakes that don't require a visit from Betty Crocker.

My point is...do any of these ingredients taste good on their own? No. In fact, if you sat down to a meal of flour, vegetable oil, baking powder, and vanilla your stomach would probably close up from disgust. Each of these things are truly awful on their own. But when they are put together, in just the right amounts, at just the right times, a yummy, completely satisfying cake is created.

No matter how difficult the time is that you are going through, whether it be relationship problems, financial issues, a job that is falling apart or a job loss, depression, the loss of a loved one, or whatever hard situation you may be facing, first of all, you are not alone. And second of all, have hope that God will take all of these not fun situations and create something truly beautiful and satisfying for your life.

This message of hope truly touched me. It felt as if it were directed right at me. Obviously I wasn't the only one in the room and obviously everyone can benefit from this message, but it came to me at just the right time, when I needed to hear it most. 

Have hope my dear friends and loved ones. And eat cake.

Domestic Goddess....In Training.

The other morning, on my all too common walk to Wheatberries for breakfast with Mandy, I noticed a change.

Sidenote: Wheatberries is a delicious little bakery in downtown Moscow that serves yummy pastries, bagels, lunch items such as mini-pizzas, sandwiches, and salads. They also do catering. They are a carb-lovers dream and a dieters worst enemy. If I didn't work out regulary I'd have to ban myself...or weigh 200 lbs.

The change was the slightest of changes, but it suggested one obvious, unforgettable feeling: autumn. Fall was in the air during that morning. It was the briskness of the air, the crunch of leaves, that distinctly seperate feeling of summer from fall. And I love it.

I do truly LOVE summer, but fall is where my heart really lies. It's the most romantic season of all. And not only is it beautiful, soft, warm yet cool, and...romantic....it's the season of FOOTBALL and HUNTING. Two of my favorite pasttimes.

As I noticed this change, and talked it over with Mandy, who confirmed the feeling and echoed my excitment, I started thinking of what I will do once fall is here. Buy seasonal scented candles, wear cozy socks, curl up on the couch under a fuzzy blanket and read a book, make tea at night instead of lemonade, wear layers of clothing and cute boots, pull out my jackets from last year, buy more bronzer to accomodate for my fading summer tan, and....bake pumpkin bread.

For those of you who are not aware, pumpkin bread is my specialty. Right now it's really my only specialty, but I'm sure in time I'll discover a few more. But for now...just pumpkin bread. And it is the perfect fall-time treat. It's comforting and just tastes like fall. Once fall officially arrives I'll throw my apron on (I like how I said that like it's a normal thing) and whip up a loaf or two of my famous pumpkin bread and post a how-to guide on here, complete with pictures. Hopefully I have a camera by then.

I'm getting to my point and the title of this blog. I promise.

The other day I was hanging out with a good friend. He is someone I trust, respect, and care for. So what he says counts, unless it's bull poo, and then I tell him I think so. :) Anyway...this good friend of mine mentioned something about ironing clothes. This got my always thinking mind forming a question about women that are domestic.

Are women with domestic skills more attractive to men than women with less or no domestic skills? Aka...are we more appealing if we are domesticated or if we are still wild and free and can't wield a broom to save our lives?

I'd like to think my carefree, relaxed ways are fascinating to men at my age. But maybe they DO care about a woman thats got skills in rooms other than the bedroom, such as the kitchen. Sorry Mom, it was too good of a sentence to not use.

But how much are we supposed to know? I'd hope that the majority of females can at least sweep a Swiffer by 25. Although, I'm sure it's a sad fact that some wouldn't even know what a toilet brush was if it hit them in the face. Now that's a funny image.

But back to my original train of thought. I'll volunteer myself as an example.

Here is what I can do:
Basic cooking and baking. I claim to be horrible but really I just don't like cooking. And the reasons are because it's just me and it's so much work to cook for ONE person. And I'm horrible at grocery shopping so I'm usually starting at an empty fridge and a bunch of condiments. This makes me feel like a boy and I give up.
I can clean any room top to bottom, and I actually enjoy doing so.
Laundry. That's easy.
I can fix nearly anything in my house with either my tool set or electric drill. Or with duct tape.
I can assemble furniture and move it by myself. Determination makes up for lack of another set of hands.
Basically, I keep a clean house, keep myself from starving, keep things working, and get myself to work nearly on time every day.

Here is what I have YET to learn how to do:
Cook well or put together dinners for a family.
Know what I am doing in a grocery store besides in the wine and beer aisle. I seem to go from that area to the fresh produce and skip everything in between.
Sew. Quilt. Patch. Or anything with a needle and thread. However, I do know how to use them....I just need practice. I have two very talented Grandma's who learned, so I'm sure I'll do just fine. Someday.
Iron well. I can iron if it was going to save my life...but I find myself buying clothes that don't require ironing or constantly tell people that the "wrinkled" look is in. Thank you, Abercrombie & Fitch, for making your clothes so wrinkly and setting off a trend. That's still a trend, right? If I someday have a husband that needs shirts ironed for work he's gonna have to have a lot of patience and deal with some uneven shirt lines. Or secretly keep brand new shirts in the car and change in to them before work. It's okay...I'd be relieved he wasn't wearing my crookedly ironed shirt creases in public anyway.

So there you have it. The list of can do's and can't do yets of a 25 year old single gal. To be honest, I look forward to learning all these skills and keeping a family alive. But I still feel myself teetering on the line of young, single, and free and a domestic, apron-wearing, laundry-doing, Betty Crocker.

So what did my friend say when I asked him if it was more attractive to a man to have a woman that can do all of the above when it comes to domestic chores? He wisely said it is attractive that a woman know what she is doing in and around the house, but even more so that she is willing to learn and will learn in time.

So, all my single ladies, we are off the hook for a while. Keep doing your thing, whether you cook like a chef and could bake for a king, can iron like a June Cleaver, or are still a little bit rough around the edges when it comes to those household chores. Life is more fun when you learn as you go. We may not all be perfect at everything, but it's the trying and the learning that are important.

I know I'll never be a world class chef but I do know that someday I'll feed a family. And they'll eat what I have to feed them with a smile on their face. And if not, I'll win them over with pizza and ice cream. And a nice, clean house to live in.

Hopefully it's a big, beautiful house with a hot tub, pool, barn full of horses, a garden full of perfect vegetables that I'll know how to grow, and.....well I guess it doesn't really matter what I have on the oustide, but on the inside, that counts.