Sometimes I feel really inspired to start a blog and write about what’s on my mind or share the experiences I’ve had. Immediately after I sit down to start writing this fear of how everything is going to sound when someone reads it floods into my mind. I can’t write anything because I overanalyze what I am saying. Writing has always been difficult for me. I was that girl in school who took five hours to write two pages of my ten page essay while my friend next to me was complaining that her paper was fifteen pages, and she had to narrow it down! Oh, how I hated her ability to have words just flow from her mind while I was stuck trying to think of something new to say.
So, this is going to be my attempt at having a blog. It will most likely not have regular postings because lets be honest-I have thought about writing a blog for almost two years now and am just getting around to it! I procrastinate A LOT! And sometimes, I just won’t be able to get past that mental block of trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Regardless, this is my attempt at sharing a little bit of my life with you and my passion for baking. I mainly just want to brighten your day as you read the stories I have to share with you! Most of my stories will be about baking, but not always. Something could just pop into my head that I want to share with all of you, like this first story.
Recently my sister texted me and said she had left something on my bed that was a throwback to our childhood. I forgot about her text until I got home and on my bed were Western Family Wintergreen Lozenges. Have you ever seen wintergreen lozenges before? They are the cutest little pink lozenges that you can’t help, but gobble up. I have not seen these candies in forever, and my heart was so touched by this sweet gift from my sister.
The reason these wintergreen lozenges mean so much to me is because it takes me back to my grandparent’s pantry. In my grandparent’s pantry, my grandmother kept these wintergreen lozenges. The entire pantry (it was tiny) was filled with the smell of wintergreen. Every time I walked in I could smell those pink candies and search for them, so I could sneak a few. Ok, I probably asked for permission most of the time because that was the kind of kid I was, but there were definitely times I couldn’t resist. At the time they didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but one of the things that always reminds me of my grandmother is the smell of wintergreen.
My grandmother died when I was in the third grade, so I really didn’t know her all that well. I think we would have been the best of friends though. My mom will tell me things about her every now and again, and I am so surprised by how much I am like her-even without really knowing her. My grandmother was the valedictorian of her class in high school. I was too. My grandmother went to college to study business, just like me. She, however, dropped out two weeks before graduation to marry my grandfather! That was so unlike me. My grandmother was a baker, and I am too. She would be extremely offended if anyone asked her if she used a box mix to make her treats. I have had similar experiences where someone questioned if my cupcakes came from a box! I was appalled, but I think he intended it as a compliment.
I love that I feel this connection to her. So many times when I am in the kitchen I imagine what it would be like if she was still alive and could bake with me. I think we would laugh a lot because we both share ditsy personalities and would probably make lots of goofy errors. What I love most about my grandmother though is how she cared for people and was kind. She has always been my role model and someone I have tried to be more like. She was hospitable and wanted to make people feel welcome. Those characteristics have always been important to me and at the core of who I am. I love people.
Sometimes I don’t even know how to explain how much I love people, but when I interact with someone my heart just wells with happiness and I want them to succeed and be happy and be the best that they can be and have lots of good things happen to them. I want them to know how special and cared for they are and how loved they are by Jesus. This is why I am so passionate about opening a bakery. I want to create a space where you can come and feel welcome. I want to feed you, make you a cup of coffee, and talk to you about your day. Maybe in my bakery I’ll even have a bowl of wintergreen lozenges. It will remind me of my grandmother and how she instilled a love of baking in my heart and a love for all the people I interact with.