Mocha Lip Balm

This dark, deliciously shimmering lip balm smells faintly of honey, strongly of coffee, and looks like chocolate.  Mmmm! 

Lip balm is one of the easiest homemade body-care items you could make; it was certainly the first homemade toiletry I ever created. Look for these ingredients on Amazon or in your local health food shops.  This recipe is, of course, great as a lip balm but also soothing and healing [because of the shea butter!] for dry, chapped hands.  

MOCHA LIP BALM

makes eight 15ml jars

2 TBS natural beeswax, grated

1 TBS unrefined shea butter

1 TBS unrefined cocoa butter

1/4 cup organic virgin coconut oil

1 tsp honey, preferably raw

4 drops GSE

10 drops vanilla essential oil

20 drops coffee essential oil

1 tsp organic cocoa powder

1/2 tsp natural gold mica powder

Basically, the beeswax and fats need to be melted together, and then the essential oils and powders can be added.  I use a small stainless steel saucepan: fill it with a few inches of water, and place a Pyrex glass jug into the pan. Put the grated beeswax into the jug and set the pan over a low heat.  As it begins to melt, stir in the butters and oil, and the honey.  If shea butter gets too hot it will become grainy, so stir consistently and keep the heat low.  

While the oils are melting, pop a few clean small jars into the oven on a low temperature to warm.  I like tiny used jam jars [currently scoring mine from Starbucks; yeah, it helps to know the staff!] but you can also buy little cosmetic jars on eBay brand-new, if you prefer.  This recipe makes eight 15ml jars.

Back to the stovetop: remove the pan from the heat and, using a fork, whisk the cocoa powder and gold mica powder into the melted oils. Add the GSE and essential oils.

Pour the liquid balm into the hot glass jars, slowly and carefully.  Whisk the mixture before you pour into each jar to ensure a more even distribution of ingredients.

Set aside, uncovered, to cool overnight.  In the morning, put lids on the jars and give them a bit of a wipe down to remove any spills.  

In a hot climate or in extremely warm weather, it's probably best to store this lip balm in the fridge.  Also, if you are planning on giving this away, please remember that it is not appropriate for people who are allergic to nuts, because of the shea butter!

For more ideas about homemade and eco-friendly things you can make or do, visit Beth's blog and follow the links on her Green Resource post:

Rain

I'm not sure which boy took this photo, but you can sort of see whoever it is in the upper right-hand corner.  

Almost constant rain= coffee, cleaning the house, visitors, writing, coffee, laundry that never dries, soggy garden, coffee, reading aloud together, playing board games, and more coffee.  

Recoup

Every eight weeks, I order from an online co-operative, and have a huge amount of store cupboard food delivered to my door.  I'm so thankful that we have such a wonderful co-op available, and can find great bargains and lower prices for organic food.  Except that...

I finished my order very late Sunday evening, and e-mailed it for Monday. I sent the wrong order.  December's order, to be exact.  

When the invoice was handed to me today, as the three boys energetically helped bring in the boxes and bags, my brain dropped out of my head into a mess on the floor as I immediately began a mental attempt to problem-solve my way out of this one.  

For any of you reading this who have ordered along with me this time, don't worry!  I'll figure this one out.  There will be a way out of the mess of the moment. There always is.  

There always is.

Not just for massive food orders, but for every single mess that comes up in life.  There's always a path to follow, even if it's not the easiest, or the most clear-cut.  

Now I'm going to sit down and recoup with a cup of coffee!

Last October Post

It seems appropriate to post a favourite quote I've been mulling over during October...

"Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams."

-Fyodor Dostoevsky

When I'm finding it difficult to put love into action, I find it helpful to sit down for some thinking and drinking time [just coffee], and mentally resolve to keep loving, no matter what.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night

Outdoors, anyway.  

Safely inside, though, the howling wind was a perfect soothing backdrop for some cosy kitchen activity.

The cupcake creations are the obligatory Chocolate Fudge of the Nigella variety.  The icing lost half of its usual chocolate content as the people I'm making these for won't appreciate that added bitterness, being the sugar lovers that they are.

Musical accompaniment was provided by this brand-new album, which arrived in the post yesterday:

And the predictable refreshment was... of course, er:

Last but not least, I decided to have a look at my appearance minus my eyeglasses.  Coo broke them a few weeks ago, and I haven't yet sorted out an appointment to have an eye test, before I can order a replacement pair. 

Everyone else has grown accustomed to my glasses-less state, except for me.  I don't spend much time staring into mirrors at myself.  Last Sunday, I donned a pair of ancient, crooked glasses I found in a drawer; however, I'd only worn them for a few minutes when Mr J said, "Mum, can you please take those things off your face?"  Needless to say, I did.  I am certainly missing the ability to see well, though not completely impaired without them.  I struggled in a large shop last week, unable to read the unfamiliar signs.  The FSFC [Family's Safety First Consultant, Lefty] told me I shouldn't be the one to look after him and his brothers as they played at the park because "someone might try to steal us and you can't see."  Making an appointment on Monday, Lefty dear.

Leaving you with...

Rue Royale - Guide to an Escape @ Sunday Folk Club from LN on Vimeo.

Following the Real Jesus

Where can I begin?  Well...

In the beginning there was coffee.  And Jesus.  What a combination.

I started drinking coffee when I was eight.  Surreptitiously...  A snatched mug of steaming hot coffee poured on the sly from Dad's coffeemaker and drunk behind the garden shed.  I had always loved the smell, and wanted to see if the taste matched that toasty richness.  It did.  Mmmm...

As I grew older, I was sidetracked into the world of instant coffee, believing for a while that it almost tasted the same.  It doesn't.  Soon I gave in and accepted that I was a fresh coffee sort of person.

In the last decade, my commitment to coffee has grown in depth and perception and by now, my ideal cup of coffee really needs to start with freshly ground beans.   I can both smell and taste the staleness of old beans in the pre-ground vacuum packed bags of coffee; every mouthful reeks with the flavour of rancid coffee oils.

Real coffee just tastes... well, real!

You might see where I'm going with this now.  Or you might not.  Anyway...

A slow understanding of Jesus began to seep into my subconscious around the same age at which I first tried coffee.  

Church I knew and understood; Jesus was something different.  I began to see how people behaved when they really loved Jesus.  Whether it was my dad giving the town drunk a ride in the car when he was in need of it, overhearing my parents counselling people day and night, or listening to missionaries staying in our home tell stories; I could see that Jesus was the reason for all of this.  

As years passed, to some degree I was sidetracked into believing that church was where it was at.  Listening to only Christian music, reading my Bible and praying, attending Christian groups and having Christian friends, never missing out on a church service, it all added up to the appearance of a great Christian person - me!  Instant Christian.  Freeze-dried, but tastes [almost] like real coffee!  I was stale personified.

Time spent away from home studying the Bible began to unlock the myth of religion that I had bought into; and in the decade or so since,  I've seen layers of religiousness peel away in my life.  The real Jesus is there, and and I do know Him!  He was there all that time, just hidden underneath my self-righteous protective layers.  

So what does this real Jesus look like for me now that I'm following him, and not just attending church?  

No more religious, self-absorbed Christian bubble, no more working hard on that Christian appearance and making sure that I'm following all those rules.

I still talk to God, listen to Him, and read His word; and just for the record, I do meet with other Jesus-followers regularly.  It's called community.  Around the outer edges of our community are many people who aren't following Jesus.

Once a month, we're at the Big Feed, an afternoon of eating and talking with the homeless and hostel-dwellers in our town.  We have crazy conversations with these people about faith and God, and there was a considerable amount of surprise for all of them when they realised we were spending time with them because we wanted to, not because we were being paid for doing so.  We listen to their stories and pray with the people who ask for it.  

I'll finish this off with a quote from the real Jesus.  This is what following Him is all about:

"You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  A second is equally important: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.'"

-Matthew 22.37-39

No matter who we are or where we live, a life of following Jesus looks the same: loving God, loving people.

Some people call it "ministry"; I prefer to refer to it as following Jesus, because that's just what it is.  And all of us who believe in Him are called to follow!

And where does coffee come into it?

Well, if you love people, you give them real coffee!

Curatives

It's been tummy bug all round here since last Wednesday.  All four children and Dan fell ill the same day.

After cleaning our bathrooms three times, cooking Thanksgiving dinner, and working my way through innumerable stacks of laundry, I succumbed early this morning.

Yuck.

Feeling lots better now, and considering climbing out of bed after writing a few Christmas cards to trot downstairs for the purpose of trying a curative or two.  One, peppermint and nettle tea.  Two, lassi made with Yeo Valley natural plain yoghurt.  Lassi is an Indian drink of natural yoghurt blended with ice cubes and a bit of something sweet.  I usually sweeten it with agave syrup.  Natural yoghurt is the first thing we eat after a tummy bug.

No chance of drinking coffee yet!  But I was thinking about a hot, steaming cup this afternoon.  The worst thing of having a tummy bug, for me, is no coffee.

Half-caff

I've mentioned before that I'd given up real coffee.

That didn't last long.

However, I've found a happy medium...

Half-caff.

Equal amounts of freshly ground Swiss water decaffeinated beans and regular beans. Just as good. If you don't believe me, come round for a cup.

And why am I online in the morning?

Because the Boys and Mr J are busily playing Legos on the kitchen table, and have been for the last two hours. The scenario is an interesting mix of Bob the Builder and Star Wars. Righty has a hangar full of war planes, and Mr J is maintaining a builder's yard that is sometimes visited by the war planes, who all talk. Lefty is ruling over all with a gripping plot narration.

Coo is fast asleep, worn out from her nighttime wakefulness.

I might go make a cup of coffee.

Raw Starbucks

It was my most harrowing Starbucks visit to date, culminating in being kicked in the leg by an enraged 4-year-old on the way out the door.

Everything was normal, or so I thought.  We sat down on comfortable chairs, and had a five minute discussion about what we were drinking.  The Boys talked about the merits of smoothies versus hot chocolate, back and forth for a while.

"There's no corn syrup in the smoothie," Lefty declared.

"And there's corn syrup in the whipped cream on the hot chocolate," responded Righty, dolefully.

"But you could just not get the cream," Lefty replied.  [Why, oh why did I ever let them watch Food, Inc.?]

Righty chose hot chocolate, minus that evil whipped cream.

Lefty (smugly?) went for the cold drink.

Mr J was adamant: hot chocolate WITH whipped cream.  Food, Inc. clearly went in one eye and out the other.  Oh, there was a ghastly drawing of a chicken on a conveyer belt.  Never mind.

I returned with the drinks and retrieved Coo from her pushchair.  She instantly grasped for my hot mug and tried to taste it. Sorry, babes.  No double-shot lattes for you yet... You'll have to be content with your stolen teaspoonfuls out of Mummy's coffee at home when she's looking elsewhere.

We all finished our drinks, amidst much straw and wooden stirrer collecting, to take home for later.  [Does anyone else's kids do this?  Or are mine just shameless hunter gatherers?]

Through the humming of a lunchtime Starbucks, the murmuring of baby Coo, the lengthy discussions of Lefty and Righty, rose the sound of a breaking storm.  It came without warning, piercingly petulant:

"I WANTED SMOOTHIE NOT HOT CHOCOLATE!"

I looked over at the storm and made my first mistake.  Reasoning with the unreasonable.  "I'm quite sure you said hot chocolate, Mr J."

"NO I SAID SMOOTHIE BUT NOBODY LISTENED!"

Lefty and Righty, pillars of logic in the totally illogical world of their brother of four years, affirmed what I said and Lefty added, for diplomatic measure:

"The smoothie was very thin like juice, Mr J.  It wasn't like the nice thick ones we make at home."

There was no appeasing, no reasoning, no arguing.  HE HAD WANTED SMOOTHIE.  Particularly now that his hot chocolate was drained to the last drop, corn syrup sodden cream and all.

I coolly prepared to leave, attempting to remain oblivious to the persistent whining that drifted around the space Mr J was inhabiting.

The pushchair wheels were rolling towards the door when it must have hit him that we were leaving without a smoothie.

"I SAID SMOOTHIE I DID YOU JUST DIDN'T HEAR ME!"

As Lefty and Righty held the door for me and Coo's wheels were traveling through the doorframe, I received the historic kick.

Calm, I told myself.  Stay calm.  Never mind that everyone in Starbucks is now interested in our drama.

He protested loudly for a long time, as we walked all the way through the town centre.  I felt the pitying looks of other mothers, the judgmental stares of some.

When we arrived home, he was fine.  I did not say or do anything to address his behaviour apart from arranging a long phone chat with Daddy.

Tonight, after I'd read him six library books and two Bible stories, he rolled around in the pillows on my bed, and looked over at me as I changed Coo.

"I'm sorry, Mum."

"What for, Mr J?"

"For the Starbucks thing.  You know, Mum."

Sometimes, forgiveness is just too easy.

Of chaos, coffee, and cake

I've been journaling more in the last few months, but it takes FOREVER to hand write just a few pages.  Typing is so much faster; however, in blogging I can't escape from that "aaahhhh.... someday the internet will disappear and all my words will be lost" mentality.  Fortunately, I am growing wiser in my old age (30 next week!), and have finally realised that if the disappearance of the internet becomes reality, all of my ink-written words will be gone too, as something awful and apocalyptic will have certainly transpired to cause such a cataclysm.  

Anyway... Chaos.  Today was certainly chaotic.  As usual.  Our schoolwork seemed to be all over the place this morning.  But it was all done and dusted by our post-lunch quiet time, which meant I had a few minutes to breathe in the silence, and make myself a cup of...

Coffee.  But not the real thing.  None of that... not anymore. As I've mentioned, I'm coming up to a rather important birthday (yes, 30!), and have reached the sad realisation that if there is one thing that sends me mentally insane, it's too much caffeine.  My brain jumps ahead at a ridiculous pace, confounding everyone around me, the poor people who are still on today while I've moved on to tomorrow. So I've had to make the sorrowful decision to move to decaf, and am still in mourning for my dark, instantly stimulating cup of goodness. Fortunately, I believe that sometimes it's okay to break the rules, so occasionally I do have a SMALL cup of the real thing. We're talking one a week, though, as opposed to fifty. After all, the real thing is amazing with a piece of homemade...

Cake.  Green and Black's cocoa.  Two hundred grams of G&B 85% dark chocolate in the buttercream icing.  Mom, who does not ingest caffeine at all, was unable to go to sleep one night after a tiny slice of this cake.  When I've figured out how to use blogger a bit better, I'll post the recipe.  I've made it for four weddings; it is the most dependable and universally liked cake I've ever made.  

Well, bed... Coo is waiting for a midnight feed, and I'm freezing.  We're having a rather nasty bit of weather: rain, wind, and arctic temperatures.  Do you see that? I couldn't even finish without mentioning the weather.  I've lived in the UK for way too long... we talk about it because it's so PREDICTABLE.  Warm rain.  Cold rain.  Freezing rain.  Snow mixed with rain.  

I will have three muddy little boys stamping into the house after football tomorrow!