Lift It On Up
Made some apple bread Saturday and it was not bad. Things have been quiet since the kids left, and Mr. S headed out Saturday morning for Grand Marais, where he’s doing a two day workshop on the healing power of Calm. I have to say I’m with him on that one. I’ve had nothing BUT calm for the past few days and I have to say it’s done my spirit (and my body) well. I tend to get worked up on occasion about bills or chores that need doing or people who are unkind, and it feels good to kind of float above it all and bake some bread and read awhile and take a nap while rain falls on a foggy August evening.
Anxiety can be a rough thing for some. It’s like a severe weather system that comes out of nowhere and wreaks some havoc and threatens to pick you up and carry you away. You lose your bearings a while; and though you know it’s there, you can’t feel gravity. You just feel as if you need to get up and run. Or hide. How do I know this? Well, there are people in my life who experience anxiety – some regularly, some not. Some intensely, some a bit. I’m thinking most people are familiar in one way or another.
It seems good number of significant things that happen in a life you can’t really KNOW unless you experience them yourself. Childbirth. Loss of a spouse. Addiction. Depression. Climbing to the top of Mt. Everest. Poverty. Loneliness. Winning an Olympic medal. You know what I mean. Experiencing a thing is the best way to understand it. I say this because until I had a bout of anxiety which sent me to the hospital one evening a while back, I had no real clue about the terribleness of it all. I had a rough time getting breath in, my heart was racing, my arms tingled, felt like a fat cat was sitting on my chest, and I was shivering. Thought I might die, even, truth be told.
Turns out my body needed a bit more potassium than I’d given it (now I’m eating dried apricots every day), and it appeared I was a prime candidate for stomach ulcer if I didn’t take heed. Which I did. I began to pay attention to breathing. To eating a bit better. To calm. To what, in the Grand Scheme of Things, really matters.
There are two thoughts here. One? Never underestimate the complexity and possibilities in another person’s life. Two: consider what matters, what really matters. For each of us it’s a bit different, perhaps, but I’m guessing it doesn’t have much to do with the condition of the lawn or gossip at work or whether or not it’s a good hair day. You know what matters. Lift it on up.
This one is simple, and a good way to make use of the first of autumn’s apples. Paula Reds are out now, and I used a few to make this bread, and it was just the thing for a Saturday evening alone. I’m contemplating making it into French toast next time around. Never do know unless you give it a whirl.
Apple Dutch Bread
Cream ½ cup butter and 1 cup sugar.
Add 2 eggs and 1 tsp vanilla. Mix well.
Add 2 cups flour and
1 tsp soda and combine.
1/3 cup sour milk
1 cup chopped apples
1/3 cup chopped walnuts (optional).
Pour into a greased loaf pan, bake at 350 for 55 minutes.
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