It's Time For Brooking With Cook!

I like to entertain myself as I cook by talking as if I have my own cooking show. I crack myself up - especially when I'm making something very true to my 31 year old, unmarried, no kids lifestyle, like a quesadilla that I eat off of a paper towel ("Now, I like to fold the paper towel for a nicer presentation..."). For the past two and a half weeks, my cooking has changed drastically. Better than that, my LIFE has changed drastically. I have suffered with frequent anxiety attacks for almost two years now. It has been a long, long journey to find some means of coping with day to day life.

In January, my parents took me to see some pastor friends who prayed over me. The word from the Lord was "allergy". Though I was having no physical symptoms other than the attacks, I went to a naturopath and got my blood tested. When I returned for the results, the naturopath said, "Well, tell whoever prayed for you that they were right on the money! You have celiac disease!"

Celiac disease is an auto-immune disease of the small intestine. Here's a helpful quote from The Celiac Foundation (www.celiac.org): "When individuals with CD eat gluten, the villi (tiny hair-like projections in the small intestine that absorb nutrients from food) are damaged. This is due to an autoimmune reaction to gluten. Damaged villi do not effectively absorb basic nutrients – proteins, carbohydrates, fats, vitamins, minerals and, in some cases, water and bile salts. If CD is left untreated, damage to the small bowel can be chronic and life threatening, causing an increased risk of associated disorders – both nutritional and immune related."

My vitamin levels, especially Vitamin D and iron, are severely low. The naturopath said, looking at my results, no wonder I am so anxious- my body has been crying for help! My brain and body have not been getting nutrients or oxygen (which attaches to the iron on each blood cell). She wondered how I got out of bed at all each day.

While it is taking time to process this diagnosis and the new diet it requires, I am praising God for revealing this need. Since making the dietary changes, I have felt RENEWED. One week after the changes, I had to call Jeremie on my way to work because I realized I was HAPPY! I hadn't been happy to just be alive on a regular old day for so long. Jeremie rejoiced with me at this gift from God.

Here are some videos of the adventures I'm having as I learn to cook in a whole new way. Making baking flour out of potato starch, rice flour, tapioca flour, and xanthan gum; eating lots of veggies; and still enjoying making treats for others. I realize that my on-screen personality has a ways to go. That's okay. By the time the Food Network calls, I'll have that down pat.




The video I made of myself actually preparing the gingerbread was too big to upload, so take this moment to visualize me charmingly taking you through the steps of mixing these interesting flours and coconut oil instead of butter. Now, the final result...

Loft Side Story

Preface
Today, my Dad and I shared some quality time cleaning out part of his barn. Those of you who know my family are aware that this is not a place to shelter beloved farm animals, but rather, a 3,000 sq. ft. storage unit. The main level houses four old cars, a hydraulic lift, and every tool you can imagine. I'm not kidding when I say, "If you need it, he probably has it." Upstairs, you'll find rows of well organized, floor to ceiling shelves of.... the only word for it is "stuff". Extra toilet paper and paper towels from Costco, Christmas decorations, toy trucks that my Dad played with as a child, magazines, tires, car parts.... stuff upon stuff upon stuff. So, today, we tackled the loft above the second floor. No one has touched it in years, except for the time my Dad had to go up there and fix the roof; a project which also proved helpful in evicting some undesirable raccoon tenants. The idea of running into critters or anything gross made me hesitant to go in the loft, but my Dad needed the help, and my knees handle all the crawling better than his. So, up I went.



Loft Side Story and Other Quotable Moments
It was not pleasant up there, but we were efficient in clearing out some initial boxes. Many of them were empty and just needed to be recycled. Score! Then, I came across mouse droppings.

Me: "Dad! There's mouse crap up here! Shouldn't I be wearing a mask or something so I don't breathe it in?"
Dad: "Oh, I've been breathing mouse crap for years and I'm fine!" (goes to get me a mask and a little vacuum anyway)

Several boxes later, I opened a box that had chew marks on the outside and swear I saw something move. I screamed. I shut the box and crawled away from it. My Dad came up the ladder a ways and asked what happened.

Me: "I think there's a mouse in that one. I HATE mice, Dad! (tearing up) I don't like running into them at all."
Dad (completely serious): "Can I get you a machete?"
Me: "Noooo! What would I do with a machete?"
Dad: "Protect yourself from the mice. That's what I brought with me when I thought the raccoons might still be up there."
Me: "I am not going to cut up any mice. Can you get me something to use as a shield?"

My Dad disappeared for a few moments and came back with a baseball bat and a long-handled mallet.

Dad: "See? The long handles on both so you don't have to get close when you beat them away."
Me: "If there were any mice up here, they've probably gone into hiding because of all the screaming and vacuuming, right?"
Dad: "No, it's like West Side Story. The little mouse gang is hiding behind that old Apple computer box, just waiting for you. They've got their little mouse machetes and they're ready for action."



Conclusion
A few hours later, we had a very clean loft and a truckload of stuff to either throw away or give away. I'm proud of us - for many reasons. Thank You, God, for everyday adventures and for a Dad who finds the humor in mouse crap.