Red Flag.

If you are from a beach town, you will understand my use of red flag. It's a warning of unsafe conditions.

Don't swim. Don't sail. Don't stand too close to the edge. 

Sometime the red flags flaps violently in the wind. Cracking and snapping, echoed by sound of the waves smashing the rocks and sand. The pier is coated in a sheen of lake water, small puddles form only to be desturbed and displaced by the next wave that crashes in. 

These are the obvious red flag days. 

Then there are days when the flag lays docile against its pole. Lack lusterly flutters in a brief breeze. The waves are calmly, ritualistically lapping at the beach. The pier is dry and crowded. The crowds thinking the flag was forgotten and should be ignored. These red flags give the warning of a hidden danger. Riptides. 

The snaking current that pulls you out and under. 

Tonight was an obvious red flag day.

The waves soaked Erika and I to the bone as we cautiously navigated the pier in a desperate attempt to get better pictures of the sunset happening beyond the chaos around us. 

Tonight was an obvious red flag day, not only on the beach, but in my life. 

The kind where everyone around you knows. The red rimed eyes give a subtle warning, but the waves of tears crashing against the table of a coffee house, the gasps for air, and sobs that rack my body, really drive the point home. 

God gave me a red flag day that was echoed in his creation. And yet. On that pier. I wasn't alone. I was standing with twenty other people who were there for the same reasons I was. 

We are willing to stand though something so miserable because something beautiful will follow. 

I will move past this red flag stage of my life, because God promised me a life of sunsets. That's what I am focusing on tonight. 

Blueberry and Maple.

Welcome to my first venture into food blogging.   Bear with me; I’m just a bug in the blogging world anyways so this is entirely new territory for me!

Since I have completed college and no longer have to cook for a grade (just a paycheck) I have felt a little constrained.  At school, we had creative freedom with the plates we presented, we got to play with color, texture, even sound of our food.  It was an amazing outlet.  There was always a great variety of fresh produce, herbs, different kinds and cuts of meat, exotic spices, and expensive alcohols to play with (not to drink).  I could go in every day for eleven weeks and never make the same dish twice.  I loved that part of school.  

At work, though since starting my new job, I feel so much more connected to the food that goes on everyone’s plates, I am not able to be creative.  I follow someone else’s recipes and plate according to someone else’s eye. *

*No, I am not planning on ever opening a restaurant. That ship has sailed.

What I find myself doing now, to release my creative frustrations, is night baking.   

I haven’t done any serious baking in a year, and I began to crave it.  Not the taste of the cookies or the cake, but the smell in the house, the sound of the mixer, the way the batter looks swirled around in the bowl.  It is different than cooking. It isn’t quick, hot, stressful, or loud.   It is slow, mellow, sweet, and comforting.

Last night’s baking adventure had me running to the closet for my old stand by pound cake recipe.  Which I promptly realized was totally, technically wrong.  So I tweaked it! (Thanks Chef Turner)

ATTENTION:  I did it wrong… I left out one ingredient and almost put it in the pans before adding the baking powder.  It worked, it tasted yummy and this recipe has been tweaked even more for your viewing pleasure!  

I am not a baker. I am not even a chef. I am just a girl who likes to have her fun by destroying her mother’s kitchen midnight.  

Blueberry Maple Pound Cake!

• 4 sticks butter, softened*
• 1 cup white sugar
• ¾ cup brown sugar, packed
• 6 eggs
• ¼ cup almond milk (or regular milk. My brothers are lactose intolerant so we never have that in the house)
• ½ cup maple syrup (The real stuff.  Do yourself a favor.  It is not only better tasting, but better for you)
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract (I make my own... I should blog on that)
• 3 1/3 cup flour, all purpose
• 1 Tablespoon + 1 teaspoon baking powder
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1 (heaping) cup of blueberries**

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease and flour loaf pan(s) or bunbt pan. Heck, do them in muffin tins, that would be awesome… why didn’t I think of that last night!

Cream together butter and sugars until they have reached the consistency of, wait for it, airy sand.  It sounds super weird, I know, I had a chef tell me that in school.  I didn’t believe him… then I realized, that is just how it feels.  Really.

Stop mixer, scrape down the sides.

In a separate bowl, crack your eggs and beat up.  If you feel like shouting some insults it can only help.

Slowly. SLOWLY! Add the egg mixture.  If you add it all at once like I did, (my chefs are just itching to fail me for this mistake) your mixture will curdle.  Which looks gross.  Don’t do it.

Combine milk, maple syrup, and extracts together and slowly stream into the mixture.

Stop the mixer, scrape down the sides.

While the mixer is off, add your flour, baking powder, and salt. It is preferred if you mix them together first, but if you are like me, you will almost forget the baking powder and omit the salt on accident.

Combine until just mixed.  Make sure there are no lumps, but don’t just keep mixing to be sure.  If it looks lump free STOP the mixer.  You can work out any hidden lumps with a spatula.

Pour in your blueberries and gently mix by hand.  I kept mine frozen so they wouldn’t break open during the mixing and turn my batter blue. Smurf cake anyone? If yours are thawed or fresh, just be very gentle.

Okay, you are done! Time to put them in the oven, set the time for about an hour, and lick the bowl.  I mean, clean up!

If you try this recipe, lets me know. Tag me on Instagram if you take a picture! @thatgeekyginger

*I always leave mine on the counter for a few hours, or stick them in the microwave on the lowest defrost setting turning them occasionally.   Please don’t melt… it’s not the same

** I used frozen blueberries.  Firstly, cause they are out of season in Michigan.  Secondly, because frozen blueberries don’t “bleed” in the batter the way thawed blueberries do.

20 By 21 List.

In celebration of my twentieth birthday I will be walking the stage in my college graduation.  Which is huge, and I thought, since two significant life changes are occurring on the same day, it would be appropriate to have a "life change" blog post.

I've never been good at life long bucket lists, but I got the idea for a birthday to birthday bucket list from Whimsy + Wild and loved the challenge of it. It's a list of twenty things I want to do by the time I turn twenty one, hopefully I didn't go way over board but I guess we will see next year!

Wish me luck?!

1-- Blog 12 times.

2-- Plan a dinner party for my friends.

3-- See AJ at least twice.

4-- Read 5 new books.

5-- Have 1 photo shoot a month.

6-- Go to the beach.

7-- Try 3 new coffee houses. (Lyon Street Cafe, 

8-- Create something beautiful.

9-- Roadtrip!

10-- Grow closer to my Heavenly Father.

11-- Spend more time outside (Michigan weather permitting).

12-- Try 5 new restaurants.

13-- Journal once or more times a week. 

14-- Develop my "big girl" wardrobe.

15-- Make 10 new friends.

16-- Develop and share 5 original recipes. 

17-- Organize my life / just make the bed!

18-- Dress up more.

19-- Explore my town.

20-- Follow my heart...

I left my last one open ended. A sort of note to myself to be happy, and do what makes me happy.

Alright, I am off to walk across a stage and shake some professors' hands, then eat some food! Whoohoo!

*The lovely watercolor is from my beautiful friend, Erika.

Happiness at the Bottom of My Mug.

My coffee addiction is not something I hide from you guys.  It's a serious joy (problem) for me. It runs far deeper than just my need for caffeine.

Coffee has a huge symbolism to me.  The smell is a comfort, it reminds me of early mornings with my dad, when I was little, we would sit and eat breakfast before he went to work.  It later became a way that we bonded when I was finally old enough to enjoy the drink itself.  There are still times, after a hard day, that I just want to make a cup of coffee to smell it, and hold a warm mug in my hands.

*not my hands*

Now that I am an adult, I find that coffee is my outlet for so many other things that make me happy.  I have reconnected with old friends at the bar of my favorite coffee house.  Memories stem from the worn booths and chipped mugs. Adventures are had by exploring new cafes and chatting with regulars about their favorite drinks.  These are things I thank my coffee addiction for. 

Latte Love. 

Coffee to me is happiness in a warm drink.  The end of every cup is the middle of a good conversation. So here is to celebrating a drink that brings people together. 

These pictures are from my adventure with Erika at Rowster Coffee with our sweetened lattes! 

Behind "The Ramblings".

Since it seems like I have a lot of new followers that I don't know personally, I thought I would write a little blurb on myself... Because this is a platform that narcissism is not only acceptable, but encouraged.

-- My name is Lauren Steele.
-- I hail from the great mitten state.
-- I am currently 19 years old.
-- I have been with My Marine for two years this September.
-- And by with, I mean we text, like ALL the time.
-- Coffee is my muse and my vice. I drink it black, no sugar.
-- I was homeschooled from 1st grade through 12th.
-- I lived in Louisville, Kentucky from September 2013 - December 2014.
-- Culinary school is what drug me down south.
-- I have an extreme love-hate relationship with snow.
-- Yes, my hair is natural.
-- No, you can't touch it.
-- Things I need in the morning; Coffee, Jesus, and some friggen quiet.
-- I love dark (and I mean DARK) chocolate, Thai food, and Instagram.
-- I used to inline speed skate, like Apolo Ohno, but with wheels and slower.
-- I worked at my local skating rink for about five years.
-- I waitresses at a pizza place for less than three months, I was horrible at it.
-- I am a klutz, which is why I was a bad waitress.
-- I am an American of Welsh/German decent, not Irish, the hair and freckles lie.
-- Rescue dogs are a weakness of mine, I have had two, and planning on more.
-- Dream vacation: New Zealand.
-- I am a huge geek.  Doctor Who, Sherlock, LoTR, and so on.
-- I quote constantly, if I don't make sense, then you haven't seen it enough.
-- Both my parents are vegetarians, and I am slowly joining them.
-- I judge new friends on whether or not they have seen/like The Princess Bride.
-- I have tons of unread books on my shelves. I keep buying more and lying to myself about reading them.
-- I started this blog because I wanted to review books and movies. That didn't work out apparently.
-- I am a horrable speller. Always have been, always will be.
-- I am a minimalist when it comes to clothing and jewelry.
-- I am 5'9" and have man hands... such is my life.
-- I do the same hairstyle everyday for work. Ponytail with a small braid across the front.
-- I hate this hairstyle... it's just super practical.
-- My favorite color is blue. But the shade has varied over time. Currently it is slate blue.
-- I am a huge believer that you can do anything with enough caffeine.
-- I love learning. So naturally I remember all the useless tidbits I hear.
-- I have been singing since I could talk.  Had my first public performance at two years old.
-- If you have read this far, you are incredibly dedicated.  I thank you!

Expected picture of self and handsome man of mine.

To my new followers, drop me a comment and let me know where you are from and how you stumbled upon this humble blog of mine!  Would love to get to know some of you!

An Open Letter.

Oh my sweet boy, how I love you already.  I cannot wait to see you, to meet you, to learn who you are.  My deepest hope is that you are happy in your life, from the time I cradle you in my arms till the time you are cradled in God's.

I pray you will be a silly baby, full of giggles and smiles.

I pray you will be a tumbling toddler, so you learn to stand up on your own.

I pray you will be a loving brother, that you will protect your sibling(s) from the monsters in their lives (under the bed or otherwise).

I pray you will be a dedicated learner, who goes beyond high school and college, someone how craves knowledge and wisdom, always.

I pray you will be a strong man, not only in body but also in mind.

I pray you will be a respectful courter, that you will honor all women and will be wise with the one you chose to call yours.

I pray you will be a diligent provider, one who loves his wife and children, giving of himself for their happiness.

I pray you will have the courage to admit defeat, to seek help when you can no longer stand on your own.

I pray you will be a commanding leader, at home, at work, and in the church.

I pray you will be a humble son of God, that you will listen and lead as He shows you.

I pray you will live a full life, a long life, packed with loved ones' laughter, precious moments, sunsets, and shooting stars.

Don't forget where you came from, but make your own way in life, according to what God has planned for you.  Never forget how much your mother loves you, even now.

Aaron and Michelle

Meet my older brother, Aaron, and his lovely girlfriend, Michelle. I had the pleasure of torturing these two crazies in the frigid wind in downtown Grand Rapids, this past weekend.  All for the sake of art and late Christmas gifts.

These two have been together for a little over four years, and it shows in these pictures. Aaron being the goof that he is, and Michelle patiently (sort of) putting up with him.  These two make me laugh. 

Hopefully this summer I can track them down again, as they rush through their busy schedules, and force them, yet again, in front of the camera. Sans the freezing temperatures and numb appendages.

Cause this was fun!

Thank's you guys!

There and Back Again.

January 5th marked a strange day in my life.  It was the beginning of the winter quarter at Sullivan and I wasn't in Kentucky.  One year ago, I was sitting in an airport, waiting for my delayed flight, headed back to Kentucky after Christmas break.  This year I was watching my friends and family go back to school and work as I stayed in my pajamas till noon.  That's when it really hit me.  I was done with Kentucky.

Despite my grumblings (and yes, there were a lot of them), Kentucky had become my home.  My pictures hung on the walls there, people who make me smile and laugh are there, and there were three happy animals ready to greet me every day.  I worked there, I lived there, it was my home for over a year.

Then my pictures were in boxes, I had said farewell to my friends and had one last hoorah, the animals had successfully hidden in my luggage, I quit my job, I packed my stuff, and I didn't call it home anymore.

Now it is strange, living somewhere I haven't called home in over a year.  I'm not the same person, which is horribly cliched to say, but accurate. In someways I'm better, and in some ways, worse.  I needed to come back to Michigan to heal myself, but I needed Kentucky to break me.

I needed the wake up call that Kentucky gave me, both the good and bad ones.  The realization that I really can do anything for eleven weeks, I really can do this career, I am really not as good as I thought I was, and I really need a lot more help than I let on.

The people I met in Kentucky have changed me forever, whether it me the boys who harassed me for months, or the instructor that literally held me as I cried out for help.  I wouldn't be who I am right now without them.

My time in school not only taught me how to sous-vide a duck breast, but also how to handle life and its curve balls... and there were plenty.  A long distance relationship was started six months early, a suburban girl was thrown into a big city, a fear of abandonment was kicked into overdrive, and I survived my hardest year yet.

There have been days when I regret what happened in Kentucky, who I was there, things that I said, or decisions made under the circumstances.  There are days I wish I had never left Michigan.  But today, as I write this on the brink of starting a new job and more life changes, I miss Kentucky.  The normality that I had become accustomed to is now gone.  I have to find a new normal, and I'm not good with transitions.

Today, I want to be back in my musty apartment, making dinner for myself and getting my uniform ready for tomorrow. Instead I am sitting in my room, with my friend, Erika, sitting on my bed playing music, waiting for my mom to finish my dinner, and dreading driving to my first day of work tomorrow.

In two months, I won't remember what I am feeling at this very moment.  I'll have found my new normal and will be content with it and happier than I ever was in Kentucky.  But that is not today. Today is strange because I was there and now I am back again.

Promises.

This is the time of year for promises.  Promises to eat right, work out more, be more organized, or to enjoy life more.  Most promises made will be broken within the next month or so.

I, personally, don't make resolutions at New Years.  I am notorious for breaking promises to myself and change is not my strong suit.  Promises, in general, seem unreliable to me.

There are many broken promises in my life and though I don't have trust issues, I do have a pessimistic view on promises.  That way, when one is kept, I am surprised and pleased, and if one is broken, I don't get upset.

Trust in other's promises is something that I have struggled hard with in the last three months. Believing that I was wanted back home, that I was loved by someone who felt so distant, that people were going to help me, that people would pull through. All that was difficult and emotional for me. I spent nights crying out to God, trying to make him hear how much I was hurting, how much I wanted these promises to be true.  Trying to make Him, and myself, understand exactly how much I needed those promises to be kept, but at the same time, bracing myself for them to be broken.

I forgot God made promises to me too.  That he promises to always want me, to love me, to provide, and to never leave me.  Hopelessness overwhelmed me last night.  I couldn't do it on my own, and those who I ran to for comfort didn't do what I wanted them to.

I wanted them to fix it.  To give me what I needed right then and there.  Or I wanted them to hold me, comfort me, just tell me it was going to be okay.  Some weren't around to hold me, and words on a phone screen do not hold the same level of comfort that arms do. Those who were close, didn't give me the comfort I wanted.  Their words weren't peace giving, and I didn't know what to do.

So I picked up the only words I knew of that might help.  My bible.  I sat it in my lap and let it open where ever it wanted. Job 37 is where it fell too.  In those words God showed me his power.  That he is the one who tells the thunder when to rumble and the lightning where to strike.  That he alone is the one who controls this.

If he is powerful enough to control the storm and where it falls and when.  Then he is also powerful enough to control the storm in my life.  He knows that rain is falling, and that I will need shelter, and he let me fumble around in the dark trying to protect myself.  He heard my cries and waited there, my ever constant shelter, for me to find him.   He saw me run to others, those who could not do for me what he could, and he saw me give up.  Sitting in the rain accepting my fate to be struck by lightning.  Then he called, very gently, very softly, to me.  Asking me to come back to him.

Last night I found him, my shelter from my storm.  One that has been raging for months.  And I woke this morning to find the storm had passed.



Over the last three months, I have been searching for an internship in Michigan in order to complete my degree.  I have been met with a lot of dead ends and unanswered phone calls. I was a week away from my dead line and I still didn't have anything. Last night I broke down, from the weight of not knowing.  I felt unwanted and even considered the fact that I had made a mistake coming back home.  After reading God's Word and feeling peace about how powerful he is, and that he did promise me that he will provide, I was calm enough to finally get some sleep.  I didn't know what I was going to do, but I trusted Him enough to know that I would know what to do when the time came.

This morning, I was woken by my phone ringing.

I now have an internship and I start next week.  EVERYTHING was taken care of and I no longer have any fear.  God only wanted me to come to him, and when I did, he showed me what he can do.  He calmed my storm, and for those of you who feel as if you are also stuck in a storm, he can calm yours as well.  Just run to him.

Job 37:5
"God's voice thunders in marvelous ways;
he does great things beyond our understanding."