Straight out of Lynne’s Lab

I’ve been creating stuff in my kitchen again…

There really is a method to my madness. When my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, I did what many others do when a loved when gets handed a dreaded diagnosis – I researched. Lots of reading and weeding through pages and pages of info; endless discussions with doctors, social workers and friends about dementia.

Then, I started making changes in my own life, as I’m sure others have done, too, if there is even a remote chance that genetics play a role in your loved one’s disease. I was trying to reduce the amount of household chemicals we used, and also trying to eat organic foods.

In my hours of reading, a saw more than once that there may be a link between aluminum and Alzheimer’s. Aluminum can be found in cookware, baking powder and antiperspirants/deodorants, too. Needless to say, I started reading labels and purchasing items that were aluminum-free… which didn’t work so well with deodorants. I tried several different brands, salts, etc. No luck.

About that time, my mom started forwarding information on the benefits of coconut oil with Alzheimer’s patients. The information is amazing, and can be found by doing a simple Google search. So, after doing a lot of reading, I started to incorporate coconut oil into my diet and also use it as part of my skin care routine.

Yet, I was still frustrated that I couldn’t find a decent deodorant. And with my dad’s disease progressing, I became too distracted to care.

A few months after Dad passed away, and I came back to the land of the living, I decided to look online for homemade deodorant, and was successful in my search. And, well, because I am me – a rather impatient person – I tried the one recipe that listed the ingredients I had on hand – baking soda, cornstarch and coconut oil as I wanted to try something…NOW!

It worked!

In the past few months I have had some teenage gals try this potion, and they are liking the results. The ultimate test came when my hubby tried it, did yard work in some seriously high heat, and he was really pleased with the effectiveness. (Note – you will perspire as your body was designed by God to do, but the deodorant will do as it is designed to do – deodorize.)

If you want to try it, here goes:

1/4 cup baking soda + 1/4 cup cornstarch + 5 tablespoons of melted coconut oil. (Your best bet is to use organic ingredients). Mix until ingredients are smooth. It is like a paste, and you just massage it in. Use about a dime size. (You can add essential oils if you like, see link below for details.) Sometimes the coconut oil can solidify, so should that happen, you will need to warm it in your hands so it is spreadable or run the container under warm water. I use small refillable containers for storage.

My success with this venture inspired me to try other items off the same website, www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com (also on my BlogRoll). Today I made three gallons of liquid laundry detergent and a half-gallon liquid hand soap. But here is where “Miss Impatient” (me) will be tested, as I have to wait overnight for the soaps to thicken before I can finish making them. So it will be sometime tomorrow before I can use them!

Please stay tuned, and I will post the results in a day or two.

Have you tried making any personal or household cleaning products? If so, share in the comments section 🙂

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

Some quiet time with Super Heroes

 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.  John 15:13 NIV

A few years ago, my husband and I answered a call for volunteers for our local historical society. I am not embarrassed to admit that I was a bit apprehensive.

Our volunteer mission: to place flags on veteran’s grave sites.

My apprehension wasn’t due to the perceived creepiness of going to a cemetery, but how would I handle this emotionally. As a military wife and mom, I’d be placing flags at the graves of someone else’s spouse or child.

Previously, my only experiences at cemeteries had been emotionally charged because of the burials of relatives or friends. Would emotions run high for this event, too?

Volunteers gather in the center of the cemetery to receive flags and instructions, then disperse. Amongst those donating their time were several members of scouting groups and some veterans – a good mix of young and old.

Walking amongst the headstones is very humbling. There is an innate respect for the ground you are walking on, carefully tip-toeing to make sure you don’t “step” on someone. After a quick search of a seemingly endless row of headstones, you spot one. A veteran’s grave marker. It is unmistakable. Place a flag to the left hand corner of the marker and you’re done.

Or so you think, “done.”

In my case, I would stand a moment and picture what the service member may have looked like, in a uniform fitting the years noted on the marker. Looking at the dates, you know if this person was young or old when they died; if they had come home from war and continued on with their lives. Or, sadly, if the service member had fallen for their country. Super heroes who answered the call to serve.

I’d say a sincere thank you to each veteran, using his or her name, plus give a prayer of thanks to God that this person put their life on the line for me, my family, my friends, for future generations, and off to find the next marker. Yes, there was a certain soberness to the occasion but there was certainly cause to smile, hearing the distant shouts of an excited Cub Scout yelling “I found one!” then watching as he firmly planted a flag and a gave a quick salute.

Did my emotions run high? Yes, without a doubt.

Leaving the cemetery, seeing hundreds of flags swaying in the breeze, I whispered to my super heroes, “Thanks, guys. See you next year.”

And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. ~Lee Greenwood

How will you celebrate Memorial Day?

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

This one’s for you, Dad

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens… Ecclesiastes 3:1

My favorite time of year is upon us. School is starting to wind down, the weather has been spectacular, and the strawberries are beginning to ripen. Those beauties in the photo came from my yard!

A few years ago, I bought four little strawberry plants. Because I really have no idea what I am doing in the yard, I planted the them behind the garage. Apparently, there are better ways to boost one’s harvest if you just, um, do the research. But even with my mix-up, the plants are taking over that patch of ground and we are getting some decent-sized berries, which are absolutely delicious!

June has always been one of my favorite months, and one of the main reasons: strawberries. For me, just going to our local farmers’ market is like visiting a small space in heaven.

Growing up, these little tastes of heaven were a mainstay in our home. With Father’s Day and my dad’s birthday about a week apart, it was a sure guarantee that something bearing strawberries would be on the menu.

Our family has a rough stretch to get through in the very near future. This will be our first Father’s Day without Dad. On June 25, he would have been 77. And just a few weeks after that will mark the one-year anniversary of his death.

It hasn’t been easy, and I imagine it won’t be easy in the weeks to come. I seek comfort in prayer, in my family and friends. I look for joy in the little things – my granddaughters’ laughter, a pathetically bad joke, a sunny day, flowers in bloom.

I found joy in the warmth of a beautiful and sunny day in May, picking the first two berries of the season, smiling at the little miracles in my hand: from the frozen ground to the leaves pushing through the damp earth, to the pretty blossoms to the berries in my grasp. Life, indeed, goes on.

So, Dad, here’s to you! I will consume as many as possible in your memory

… a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. Ecc. 3:4

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

Versatile blogger award? Me?

“I love that this blogger writes about a variety of things from a variety of emotions.  One moment you will feel empathy with her, the next you will be laughing at her adventures and her look at life.”

I was kind of grouchy this afternoon. Okay, I was a lot grouchy. In the midst of a writing assignment with a tight deadline, one of our dogs got sick for the third time today. Woof. As I was rinsing my mop and bucket, I heard the email chime on my phone.

What a nice distraction!

As a new blogger, (and unhappy dog owner at that moment), forhisgloryandpraise.wordpress.com couldn’t possibly have known how much that nomination or her kind words would brighten my day! Thank you so very much!

So, in keeping with the award tradition, I will do the following, except for the 15 bloggers – I don’t know that many yet!

Thanks again 🙂

The Rules for this award are as follows:

  1. Nominate 15 fellow bloggers who are relatively new to blogging (or whose blogs you enjoy most).
  2. Let them know that you have nominated them.
  3. Share 7 random facts about yourself.
  4. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you.
  5. Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your blog post.

Random facts:

  1. I don’t like cleaning up after sick dogs unless I’m getting an award
  2. My HGTV addiction does not show in my decor…
  3. or in my yard…
  4. My favorite ice cream is Haagen Dazs’ pineapple coconut
  5. I will always prefer to read my newspaper in print vs online
  6. My profile picture was taken when my granddaughter was three, using her toy digital camera!
  7. God has blessed me with an awesome family and wonderful friends

Here are my favorite blogs so far:

httpsss://liferevelation.wordpress.com/ – Inspirational and thought-provoking

httpsss://hastywords.wordpress.com/ – Emotional and open with her feelings

httpsss://modernchristianwoman.wordpress.com/ – Great recipes and beautiful pictures

httpsss://thethingaboutjoan.wordpress.com/ – Fun, family – like chatting with a friend

httpsss://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com/ – A woman’s journey in grief

www.laferle.com – A wonderful collection of thoughts and essays

Blessings on your weekend!

Making time to smell the flowers

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. – A.A. Milne

Reading my dear friend and mentor’s blog the other day made me sit and reflect on Mother’s Day and flower giving. Cindy’s blog, (found on my BlogRoll and here: www.laferle.com), was a simple post and a photo of the flowers she received from her son and soon-to-be-daughter-in-law.

My Mother’s Day arrangements have evolved as my children have grown older. I, too, received flowers. My youngest son gave me a beautiful hanging basket, and it touched my heart in so many ways. My husband had a rose, freshly cut from our yard, sitting in a vase next to my coffee and newspaper.
I believe my first experience in receiving flowers was from my dad. He never forgot to give my mom flowers on their anniversary and other special days. Every once in a while, he would surprise my sister and I with flowers on Valentine’s Day.

My husband does the same – he never forgets special dates and likes to surprise me with  bouquets. Every year on Valentine’s, he gets roses for our daughters, daughter-in-law, and our granddaughters. He also brought me the most beautiful flowers for the birth of each of our four children.

To me, no bouquet is sweeter than the handful of dandelions, picked with love by the chubby fingers of a toddler. Who smiles more, the giver? Or the receiver?

I still chuckle at the memory of my oldest son, who was about eight or nine-years-old, bringing me some of the most gorgeous hand-picked bouquets I had ever received from a child… until a neighbor (or was it his older sister?) alerted me that the flowers were coming from the garden of the dentist’s office down the street.

There is such beauty in seeing flowers in bloom. There is such a beauty in receiving flowers given with love, too.  The beauty of the flower compels us to pay it forward by sharing them with others.

When God created these living works of art, I am sure He knew they would touch more than our senses.

He knew they would touch our hearts.

Who smiles more? The Giver? Or the receiver?

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

On being gentle and kind

“Life is fragile…handle with prayer.” – Harold B. Lee

I believe I was about 13 years-old when my mother made an embroidery sampler using the above quote. It hung in a frame and I must’ve looked at that piece a million times throughout the course of my life.

Without dating myself (yes, it’s been a few decades since Mom made that!), I really understood the meaning of that quote yesterday morning.

Yesterday, I made the discovery that I am indeed “fragile.”

After dropping the kids off at school, I had a driver pull out in front of me, only to stop and block traffic to turn left. If she had waited just a few seconds, she would’ve had a clear path. Luckily, I was in no rush, but the rudeness just brought me to tears. Honestly, I thought I was crazy being so emotional over this driving incident – which, unfortunately, happens all the time these days.

But my feelings were very real. And it has taken me an entire day to figure out why this bothered me so much. Seriously, I spent a lot of time praying I wasn’t crazy and for the Lord to give me patience with others.

Why? Because I felt like this driver didn’t care about me.

Obviously, she didn’t care about anyone other than herself and her own time-table. But somehow, I felt like she did this on purpose to me. Didn’t she know what I was going through in life? Didn’t she know that my dad died less than a year ago and that I was having a hard time dealing with his death this week? Didn’t she know that we buried a dear friend last week? Didn’t show know that if I hadn’t paid attention to her lack of patience, that we’d have been in an accident?

I felt singled out by this driver, simply because of this: rudeness is running rampant.

The “I don’t give a rip about the next guy attitude” has really gotten on my nerves lately. How can people be so callous and rude? It’s not ocassional anymore – it’s everwhere! It is on the roads, where people are completely inconsiderate of others. It’s in parking lots, where people  leave shopping carts to roll into other people’s cars.  It’s on our front lawns, where folks walking dogs leave their pet’s mess for someone else to clean. It’s in short, snarky comments and the rolling of eyes. Rudeness has become an absolute epidemic.

Of course I don’t expect a total stranger to know me or my emotions on any given day.  But I do expect that people would behave and treat others with some level of respect.

Is it because I watched my dad struggle the last few years of his life that I put myself in other’s shoes?  If I walk through a fog of emotion, are others doing the same? There is no way to know if the people I encounter today have received a big dose of bad news – a death, a diagnosis that is terminal, a foreclosure notice, a job loss. Maybe a smile or a courteous word is all they need to keep moving in that moment.

If I am fragile, than I will just assume someone else is, too.

It is the least that I can do.

Have you been a victim of rude people? Tell me below in the comments section.

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

A quick apology…

I’m pretty frustrated at the moment. After writing a post, and then hitting publish, the only thing that appeared were the bullet points I had used. I mean, just the actual bullet symbols! My word count was “zero,” the photos were gone, and basically a blank page was sent into cyber space with a link to nowhere! UGH! WOOF! I apologize to anyone who questioned their sanity when clicking onto nothing! I am just loving the fact that all that work is just gone, gone, gone.

So, my motivation to re-write it has been zapped. And honestly, it is such a pretty day, that I am not planning to waste another minute worrying about that post. I’ll save that for a rainy day.

Has anyone else experienced that same problem? Where you typed, used spellcheck, added photos, hit “publish” and nothing posted, other than the title? And a series of empty bullet points? Let me know if you have. It’s probably too late for me to fix, because, well, I was so mad I hit “move to trash.” So the blank page was gone, along with the time I’ll never get back.

If this is my only challenge of the day, I’ll count myself very lucky indeed!

Lessons learned from a wet paper

“The highest compliment that you can pay me is to say that I work hard every day.” – Wayne Gretzky

Every morning, I talk to my dad and tell him how much I miss him. On Sundays, Thursdays and Fridays, I miss him even more. Those are the “new” home delivery days for our sort-of daily paper. Yes, the paper is published daily, but budget cuts and cost-saving plans now make for a three-day home delivery service. Out of tradition, we still get home delivery of the Detroit Free Press, “our” paper, and just seeing the masthead makes me think of Dad even more.

After a night of downpours and thunderstorms, I woke up to coffee brewing (I so love programmable coffee makers!) and, while on my way to the front door, I wished Dad a good morning.

Hey Dad, I bet you’re going to be ticked this morning,” I chuckled to myself as I opened the door.

I was right. He’d be livid. Heads would be rolling downtown.

My paper was soaking wet, even though it was in a plastic bag.

Dad was a circulation guy, just like his dad. A late paper was unacceptable, unless it was due to a late press run. A wet paper was completely unacceptable. Period. End of story. Trust me when I tell you that you wouldn’t win an argument with him over a wet paper. If you were one of his carriers, you would be told to “think ahead.” If there was even the slightest chance of that paper getting wet, you were going to go above and beyond the call of duty to make sure that paper was dry – even if you had to triple bag the blasted thing.

I know this because my brothers, sister and I all had paper routes. So did our friends, our cousins and, eventually, some of our spouses. We learned from him how the newspaper “food chain” works. Here’s how (imagine him throwing in an expletive or two for emphasis):

“The carrier can make or break the paper he or she works for. Don’t you know that papers aren’t made for free? Someone has to pay all the people who get that paper on the doorstep every morning. So, the advertising rates are based on the circulation numbers. Circulation numbers are based on sales, particularly home delivery subscriptions. Sometimes content comes into play, but nine times out of ten, people quit the paper because of lousy service.

“So, if people quit over service, how do you justify ad rates? Or if the advertiser gets mad and takes his business to the competition, what do you think will happen? How do you pay people when revenues are down? You don’t. You lose numbers. You lay people off.”

Whoa – that’s one serious business lesson to learn.

Customer service skills were drilled into our heads at a young age, along with the world’s strongest work ethic.

Needless to say, the areas of circulation that were run by my dad were like a well-oiled machine. He knew the people to put into the right places to, in his words (and with his famous nod), “get the job done.”

At the time, I didn’t appreciate having to spend an extra minute on my route, bagging papers “just in case.” But as time has moved forward, and I am out and about in this world, I realize just how important those customer service skills are, and see the value in his lesson.

Sitting here, having a refill of coffee and waiting to get a dry paper, I lift up my mug and say, “thanks, Dad.”

And I will try really, really, really hard not to use an expletive as I patiently wait…

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb