Apparently when I get bored, I cook. And of course by bored, at this time of year, I mean furiously procrastinating writing papers and studying for finals. So in the past week I have baked three, count 'em, three times. I have made breakfast nearly every morning and managed to make some killer homemade guacamole. Oh and spaghetti, pizza, mac and cheese, the usual culprits.
Point is, domestic apparently looks good on me, sans the whole cleaning bit. My house runs rampant with clothes, shoes, newspapers etc but the kitchen is always cookin' up somethin' wonderful. Let me tell you, it's insanely hard to cook for one person, especially when you've been raised by a grandma who cooks army-sized meals whether there's two or twenty people eating.
I felt a whole lot like her yesterday. And by her and I mean Betty Marie Moore, only the most wonderful woman that has ever lived. Only the most precious person I know. I was in a frenzy, running back and forth from the store to home, running on no sleep lately and I suddenly realized that's what she's always done. And honestly, I thought she was a little crazy, but when there was a profound bit of snoring going on in my room last night, (and by profound I mean he could put a freight train to shame) it was seeming more and more sane to get up and scrub the kitchen floor on my knees at four o'clock in the morning. All of you Moore's or Moore relations that read this will know exactly what I mean by this.
I get it now. I get the frenzy, the madness, the insanity. Because sometimes the constant motion is the only thing that keeps me sane. I bake for people, take cookies and brownies here and there. They think it's some special occasion or something, but really I just love doing it. And honestly I think it's in my blood. I even made tea like her this morning. Boiling a huge pot of hot water with TONS of tea-bags and then mixing it with water after-wards. I hadn't even realized I had done it like her until I was pouring the concentrate into the water and started chuckling at myself.
These things thrill me, elate me. Because I want to be like her, to live like her, and if I'm already cooking and sharing my yummies like her, I hope I'm on the right track. :)
It's okay to be scared and it's okay to worry, but it is NEVER EVER okay to ask why. She has lived a life that has taught me more by example than I have ever learned from a textbook. She has filled my heart and my family with wisdom, strength, courage, and hope. She has built us up with words, and washed our mouths out when we needed it most. She has taught and loved and nurtured, rocked babies, soothed sick kiddos and calmed frenzied grown-ups. Her four foot nothing stature could put even the largest of men in their place, because her heart goes before her. Everywhere she goes, she has touched peoples lives. She is the greatest Granny, Grandma, and Mother ANYONE could ever ask for, and she's MINE.
So there, my Grandma's better than yours. Dare to challenge me? Go for it.
