Thursday, February 4, 2010

coincidence with a cookbook

A couple days ago, I was immersing myself in reading about ADHD and looking at which books I was going to read and such. After about an hour, I found myself perusing food blogs. That is a natural progression, one that might speak to the very topic I was originally researching. Anyway, click by click I found myself at The Pioneer Woman. Now, I've been to her site before. It's gorgeous. She's gorgeous. She's like some superwoman on a cattle ranch. Frankly, I became overwhelmed at just how much she does and how much she DOCUMENTS it. I could never do that, let alone take the time to take gorgeous pictures, make up delicious recipes, and then write effortlessly about it. Oh, and she homeschools her four kids. Shoot me now.

But on Monday I decided I'd subscribe to her feed (if you aren't subscribing places, you aren't really living) and read what I could. Tuesday I spent some time looking through her recipes. Wednesday, the words "Drip Beef" caught my eye. That's a good pairing of words. Suddenly, I knew I was going to make this food. As it happened, I was heading to the grocery store that morning. Off I went. When I returned home, I was putting the groceries away and thought, "Heck, I'm going to make it TODAY." So I did.

Here's where it gets good.

Two HOURS later, with my house smelling wonderfully fragrant of a promising meal, my doorbell rang and I saw the UPS man sprinting away. A cold chill ran down my spine as I beheld the box from Amazon on my doorstep and I wracked my brain to think of what I had possibly purchased (TurboTax? no, not yet. ADHD books? I just LOOKED at them, right? Never clicked buy, right? What have I done?!?!). I brought it inside and opened it. There, before me, was a note from a most thoughtful, most endearing friend:
I can't help with the organizing, but maybe this can help with the cooking. Love, Andrea
And there, beneath the note, was The Pioneer Woman Cooks. I looked from the book, to my oven, back to the book.

And I cried.

This symbolizes so much more than food. Like the Mickey Mouse keychain, it's not so much about sending me something (though that is so So SO wonderful) as it is about the physical manifestation that someone was thinking of me and doing something with my well-being in mind. How beautiful is that? Over the past week I have found much comfort in the comments and emails I've received. I've also found comfort in the amount of food I've been cooking. Then to see both of that combined into a tangible reminder that I have friends and they care about me, I am grateful. And couple that with the strange coincidence of yesterday, I think maybe there is a higher power telling me I matter, and that with these friends, my little family and I are going to be ok.

The cookbook sits on my desk when it's not on my lap, the pages being lovingly turned and caressed. It sat there on the counter last night as Joel and I quietly assembled our sandwiches after the kids were in their beds, and he told me that the next week will be unpredictable. I looked at the cookbook. And nodded. We'll be ok.

And the sandwiches were almost sinfully delicious.


Lisa said...

That is such a wonderful story. I love friends who are there for you when you need it most. And I really love the Pioneer Woman. Seriously, how DOES she do all of that stuff? And still, she's hilarious, and you can't help but want to be her best friend, although you wish she wasn't so nice because it would be nice to hate her. At least that's how I feel.

Melin said...

Ok so the secret about homeschooling is that once you get into the groove, you have WAY more time then the average person. THAT is how she does it. Especially once your kids are reading, then its more like being a manager. So the reason she can do ALL that stuff is they probably finish school in 2/3 hours, then the kids go outside and play on the never ending ranch, and she has hours to herself. Being in the school system this year has really brought this home to me. I am more busy now than I was home schooling and less fulfilled.
Anyway, I thought I'd answer that question.

OneTiredEma said...

I once sent a cookbook to a friend (blog buddy whom I have yet to meet IRL) who had had a miscarriage. I didn't know how to help her, but I hoped that some token of love would.

Glad you have someone looking out for you.

My daughter has a lot of problems getting out in the morning too--and we saw a lot of her in Raising Your Spirited Child. It was horrifying because we are going to have to forge a path for her in a system we don't understand, in a language that we don't know all that well. But on the other hand, knowing that how she the way she is and not her silently trying to kill us is rather comforting.