I love my work. I love cooking for people. I love hearing your stories and being with you on your journeys and I adore it when you love something I've made. I like the shopping, the chopping, the recipe testing, the visits to the farmers markets and the specialty stores and my Saturday trip to Trader Joe's. I love my routine on Sunday morning chop and prep days and the dance parties that happen most cooking Mondays when it's just me and Apple music in the house!
But what I have discovered about working for yourself and having your stamp all over every single thing that you do is that it's high pressure and high stress and there is no one else to help out or take over or share the responsibility. Add to that my personality - perfectionist and "everything is awesome" kind of girl - and you have a big giant headache waiting to happen. And guilt. When I don't feel well enough to cook or have an event that makes it sometimes more than I can physically handle, but still know I have to get it done.
My experience with breast cancer was probably very similar to thousands of others going through cancer. The fear, the resentment, the sadness, the worry, the brave-face syndrome and then the fight. The surgeries and chemo and radiation and then the waiting....
The difference for me was I had already decided I was no longer willing to make my entire life about work. After leaving a high-stress career to care for my mom in our home for 2 years as Alzheimer's took her slowly and painfully from us, I just didn't have the drive to go back into the "regular world" work force. (You can add to that the fact that I am a woman "of a certain age" without a college degree who had her kids really late in life, making me also the mother of high schoolers who needed a LOT of mom...) I tried a couple of things and then I found Paleo. It gave me back my youth. It took the pain from my joints, it allowed me to sleep like a baby, my headaches disappeared, I had energy all day - no mid-afternoon slumps!, I could wear 'regular size' clothing again (I lost over 80 pounds!) and I was finally free from my addiction to food. It changed my life - just before cancer changed it again!
Anyway, that is how Wildflower Kitchen was born.
Initially, I wanted to cook for families or individuals in their homes. Spend a day meal prepping so they could enjoy all the wonderful benefits of Paleo just like I had. I got very few takers. I thought maybe I could teach Paleo classes in homes...that was a bit more successful, but certainly not enough to justify not going back into the work force. I tried some online 'challenges' - lots of CleanLeanMean15's that helped build my client list a bit. And then a dear friend asked if I could just prepare meals for her and her daughter for the week....
Sure! I could do that! I had already developed a bunch of recipes that my family was enjoying, I would love to share those and see what others thought of my cooking. (I've been a crazy foodie for YEARS and some would say, fearless in the kitchen. A little fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants when it comes to ingredients...what looks good always tastes good, so that's how I roll!)
After a couple of weeks of cooking for her, I decided why not post a menu and see if I could get any takers. The rest is history!
It also changed my ultimate goal...I wanted a restaurant. With a gluten, dairy, soy free kitchen. And a teaching area. And a teeny tiny seating area. And an herb garden. And a drive through window. With an ever-changing menu (except chicken salad and turkey burgers and some kind of chili that would be a must for every day!). But talk about risk!
I looked at properties, wrote a business plan..all the grown up stuff! But with a son getting ready to head to college and a daughter who is involved in everything - I just didn't think the time was right.
Besides, I loved what I was doing...I still do.
But I am going to be taking some time off.
Yesterday, I went to a celebration of the life of my very first Texas friend. Someone I'm pretty sure I've know through a dozen lifetimes or so. A giant personality. The biggest heart. The most creative brain. Strong, kind, hysterically funny, the best kind of smart ass, great mom, artist, wonderful friend and connector, servant leader, a comfort in a crisis...she is the person who came with me to my first oncology appointment.
See, she'd already been through it. She took notes for me, coached me on what to ask and helped me understand what I was hearing. She did her research and found me the best doctor to get me started. She listened (a LOT) in those weeks of diagnosis and surgeries. She sent me notes and random texts to cheer me up. She designed 2 t-shirts to help me raise money for the mountain of medical bills. She hosted a party to distribute those t-shirts where I had a chance to say thank you and drink some hard cider and eat some cake and wear my headscarf proudly.
We talked and toasted the completion of my treatment. We encouraged each other as we struggled sometimes to make the healthiest choices for our particular situations.
And then she called me with the news. The "maybe" news that she already knew was true.
Cancer was back and it wasn't playing around. There were lots of visits and texts and pictures - different for me because of our shared cancer. 4 months ago during one of our visits on her wrap around porch, sitting under the watchful eye of Beyonce, the giant metal chicken - she said goodbye.
She wasn't near death, but she knew she was dying. And she feared she would not be one to linger. She thought she might fall or get pneumonia - something that would be sudden and quick and leave her no time to say proper goodbyes. As it turns out - God had another plan. He let us keep her for much longer than we thought ...she lingered. But she got those goodbyes out of the way early - so there would be no doubt how she felt about us. What she wanted for us. Gave her a chance to comfort us as we mourned her decline.
For me - the goodbye was about "The Golden Years". The years between when you get cancer and beat it and then get cancer again and it beats you. No guarantees that it will happen, but Indi is my 3rd peer who has had Golden Years. Three wonderful women who got cancer, beat it and then the damn stuff came back with a vengeance and beat the shit out of them. Three women far too young and strong and wonderful to not still be on this Earth.
The Golden Years have been in the back of my mind since our talk - encouraging me to stop and find joy in the ordinary, say the kind thing when I have a chance, tell people how I feel about them, not get angry when that might be my first instinct. The Golden Years were one of the reasons to keep cooking and not get a "regular job" even though some days it made more sense to have a "regular job". I love to cook. The kitchen is my happy place. Indi's words were also the reason I stopped in my pursuit of a restaurant. Stories of others who had taken that leap and gotten eaten alive by the less joyful parts of owning a brick and mortar business! (Don't get me wrong - I still drive by locations and dream about the Wildflower Kitchen I would create...)
Tuesday was Indi's funeral. It said Celebration of Life on the program and yes, we celebrated her and the hundreds of people at the church knew how blessed we were that she was a part of our lives. But it was the final thing. The thing that nearly took me down when my Daddy died. Nothing left to plan. Nothing to take your mind off how much you want to talk to and see your friend. The last time I saw Indi - we barely spoke. We sat with our heads together and held hands. But she was there. And when I got up to leave - because it was too selfish to stay as long as I wanted - she wore herself out taking care of all the people who wanted to see her and be with her and have just a few more minutes with her... I honestly thought I'd see her again. It wasn't in the cards. I had a day and she was going to Austin with her family, then I got a nasty cold and that just wouldn't be right and then I got hammered with this new medication mix.
My point in all this rambling - it's time to take care of me again. I have allowed stress back in my life. My blood pressure is up a little, I am tired more than I'm comfortable with. I have missed some of the little things that make my life special - writing, seeing friends for lunch or coffee, painting, puttering in the yard, swimming, reading and, believe it or not - cooking! I have also had immeasurable joy - made new friendships (I get borderline giddy on delivery day, I love my clients so much!), spent justifiable time in many farmer's markets and Trader Joe's and Central Market and Sprout's, made my own schedule as it allowed, lived my life in sneakers and super-comfy 'yoga' pants, had a full day of taste testing foods I love and then a fridge full of meals for my family as a bonus of nearly every cooking day!, and got to live a t-shirt slogan - "do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life!".
But I need to break. To mourn my friend. To love my family. To love myself. To get in a pool, dig in the dirt, join a book club (anybody want to start one I can come to???), hit the farmer's markets at a leisurely pace with just one tote bag :-), drink 2 cups of coffee, sleep in on Sundays, cook new things, bake a little Paleo (even though I'm really not a baker...I am a baked goods eater, so I do it!), read the stack of Paleo Magazines I've ignored for the past 4 months, take some yoga, lower my blood pressure and take on a couple of giant home improvement projects in my kitchen...oh my gosh...I just typed that...now I really have to do it!!!!
I have loved being a part of your lives and your lunches and dinners and snacks. I am proud of what I accomplished and I am not ruling out some kind of comeback in the fall...if you'll have me! Next week I am going to start trying to make my recipes in single family form so I can post them for anyone who might want to make something they used to order...I won't promise...I really stink at the writing things down thing!
Sorry for the long post. Sorry for the long time it took to finish - I needed to be sure and I needed to take a few breaks for tears... Thank you for your support of me and Wildflower Kitchen, for all your kind words and texts and notes. For investing in my family and my passion.
You are appreciated more than you will ever know!
My experience with breast cancer was probably very similar to thousands of others going through cancer. The fear, the resentment, the sadness, the worry, the brave-face syndrome and then the fight. The surgeries and chemo and radiation and then the waiting....
The difference for me was I had already decided I was no longer willing to make my entire life about work. After leaving a high-stress career to care for my mom in our home for 2 years as Alzheimer's took her slowly and painfully from us, I just didn't have the drive to go back into the "regular world" work force. (You can add to that the fact that I am a woman "of a certain age" without a college degree who had her kids really late in life, making me also the mother of high schoolers who needed a LOT of mom...) I tried a couple of things and then I found Paleo. It gave me back my youth. It took the pain from my joints, it allowed me to sleep like a baby, my headaches disappeared, I had energy all day - no mid-afternoon slumps!, I could wear 'regular size' clothing again (I lost over 80 pounds!) and I was finally free from my addiction to food. It changed my life - just before cancer changed it again!
Anyway, that is how Wildflower Kitchen was born.
Initially, I wanted to cook for families or individuals in their homes. Spend a day meal prepping so they could enjoy all the wonderful benefits of Paleo just like I had. I got very few takers. I thought maybe I could teach Paleo classes in homes...that was a bit more successful, but certainly not enough to justify not going back into the work force. I tried some online 'challenges' - lots of CleanLeanMean15's that helped build my client list a bit. And then a dear friend asked if I could just prepare meals for her and her daughter for the week....
Sure! I could do that! I had already developed a bunch of recipes that my family was enjoying, I would love to share those and see what others thought of my cooking. (I've been a crazy foodie for YEARS and some would say, fearless in the kitchen. A little fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants when it comes to ingredients...what looks good always tastes good, so that's how I roll!)
After a couple of weeks of cooking for her, I decided why not post a menu and see if I could get any takers. The rest is history!
It also changed my ultimate goal...I wanted a restaurant. With a gluten, dairy, soy free kitchen. And a teaching area. And a teeny tiny seating area. And an herb garden. And a drive through window. With an ever-changing menu (except chicken salad and turkey burgers and some kind of chili that would be a must for every day!). But talk about risk!
I looked at properties, wrote a business plan..all the grown up stuff! But with a son getting ready to head to college and a daughter who is involved in everything - I just didn't think the time was right.
Besides, I loved what I was doing...I still do.
But I am going to be taking some time off.
Yesterday, I went to a celebration of the life of my very first Texas friend. Someone I'm pretty sure I've know through a dozen lifetimes or so. A giant personality. The biggest heart. The most creative brain. Strong, kind, hysterically funny, the best kind of smart ass, great mom, artist, wonderful friend and connector, servant leader, a comfort in a crisis...she is the person who came with me to my first oncology appointment.
See, she'd already been through it. She took notes for me, coached me on what to ask and helped me understand what I was hearing. She did her research and found me the best doctor to get me started. She listened (a LOT) in those weeks of diagnosis and surgeries. She sent me notes and random texts to cheer me up. She designed 2 t-shirts to help me raise money for the mountain of medical bills. She hosted a party to distribute those t-shirts where I had a chance to say thank you and drink some hard cider and eat some cake and wear my headscarf proudly.
We talked and toasted the completion of my treatment. We encouraged each other as we struggled sometimes to make the healthiest choices for our particular situations.
And then she called me with the news. The "maybe" news that she already knew was true.
Cancer was back and it wasn't playing around. There were lots of visits and texts and pictures - different for me because of our shared cancer. 4 months ago during one of our visits on her wrap around porch, sitting under the watchful eye of Beyonce, the giant metal chicken - she said goodbye.
She wasn't near death, but she knew she was dying. And she feared she would not be one to linger. She thought she might fall or get pneumonia - something that would be sudden and quick and leave her no time to say proper goodbyes. As it turns out - God had another plan. He let us keep her for much longer than we thought ...she lingered. But she got those goodbyes out of the way early - so there would be no doubt how she felt about us. What she wanted for us. Gave her a chance to comfort us as we mourned her decline.
For me - the goodbye was about "The Golden Years". The years between when you get cancer and beat it and then get cancer again and it beats you. No guarantees that it will happen, but Indi is my 3rd peer who has had Golden Years. Three wonderful women who got cancer, beat it and then the damn stuff came back with a vengeance and beat the shit out of them. Three women far too young and strong and wonderful to not still be on this Earth.
The Golden Years have been in the back of my mind since our talk - encouraging me to stop and find joy in the ordinary, say the kind thing when I have a chance, tell people how I feel about them, not get angry when that might be my first instinct. The Golden Years were one of the reasons to keep cooking and not get a "regular job" even though some days it made more sense to have a "regular job". I love to cook. The kitchen is my happy place. Indi's words were also the reason I stopped in my pursuit of a restaurant. Stories of others who had taken that leap and gotten eaten alive by the less joyful parts of owning a brick and mortar business! (Don't get me wrong - I still drive by locations and dream about the Wildflower Kitchen I would create...)
Tuesday was Indi's funeral. It said Celebration of Life on the program and yes, we celebrated her and the hundreds of people at the church knew how blessed we were that she was a part of our lives. But it was the final thing. The thing that nearly took me down when my Daddy died. Nothing left to plan. Nothing to take your mind off how much you want to talk to and see your friend. The last time I saw Indi - we barely spoke. We sat with our heads together and held hands. But she was there. And when I got up to leave - because it was too selfish to stay as long as I wanted - she wore herself out taking care of all the people who wanted to see her and be with her and have just a few more minutes with her... I honestly thought I'd see her again. It wasn't in the cards. I had a day and she was going to Austin with her family, then I got a nasty cold and that just wouldn't be right and then I got hammered with this new medication mix.
My point in all this rambling - it's time to take care of me again. I have allowed stress back in my life. My blood pressure is up a little, I am tired more than I'm comfortable with. I have missed some of the little things that make my life special - writing, seeing friends for lunch or coffee, painting, puttering in the yard, swimming, reading and, believe it or not - cooking! I have also had immeasurable joy - made new friendships (I get borderline giddy on delivery day, I love my clients so much!), spent justifiable time in many farmer's markets and Trader Joe's and Central Market and Sprout's, made my own schedule as it allowed, lived my life in sneakers and super-comfy 'yoga' pants, had a full day of taste testing foods I love and then a fridge full of meals for my family as a bonus of nearly every cooking day!, and got to live a t-shirt slogan - "do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life!".
But I need to break. To mourn my friend. To love my family. To love myself. To get in a pool, dig in the dirt, join a book club (anybody want to start one I can come to???), hit the farmer's markets at a leisurely pace with just one tote bag :-), drink 2 cups of coffee, sleep in on Sundays, cook new things, bake a little Paleo (even though I'm really not a baker...I am a baked goods eater, so I do it!), read the stack of Paleo Magazines I've ignored for the past 4 months, take some yoga, lower my blood pressure and take on a couple of giant home improvement projects in my kitchen...oh my gosh...I just typed that...now I really have to do it!!!!
I have loved being a part of your lives and your lunches and dinners and snacks. I am proud of what I accomplished and I am not ruling out some kind of comeback in the fall...if you'll have me! Next week I am going to start trying to make my recipes in single family form so I can post them for anyone who might want to make something they used to order...I won't promise...I really stink at the writing things down thing!
Sorry for the long post. Sorry for the long time it took to finish - I needed to be sure and I needed to take a few breaks for tears... Thank you for your support of me and Wildflower Kitchen, for all your kind words and texts and notes. For investing in my family and my passion.
You are appreciated more than you will ever know!
Take good care of yourself Lisa....excuse me now while I go wipe my tears and blow my nose.
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