Grant That I Seek Not To Be Consoled, But to Console

Because I want to learn to apply this... if I hope to be there, if I hope to live a life of helping, I must apply what I say to me. I love the gentle Saint Francis. The simple tale of the Patron Saint of Animals does something for me. I'll see if I cannot break this down, so that I can digest it.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

I first have to remember, I am human. I am prone to mistakes. This is, that dreaded human condition.
Let me resolve to be peaceful. To offer stillness and calmness when others weather storms.
To be kind, even if others are not.
To heal, not to hurt.
To offer solid footing.
To be sunlight for others.
To wipe away tears as they fall. To maintain, above all, humility.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Let me be honorable, and faithful, above all to what I believe.
I know there have been people who are there for me, let me be there for them.
I sometimes have trouble making myself understood, but I think I can try another angle, see if, in some way, things are made clear.
To remember to love, even if I am hurting.
I do not wish for much... but to see others happy...and truly blessed.
I need to remember to forgive.
And not stress out too much, after all, no one gets out of life alive... but... there has got to be something better than this. 

Purely Tongue-In-Cheek: Human Decency for Dummies, Chapter 1

WARNING: Reading this seriously is not recommended. Reading with a bit of sarcasm, is however recommended. All views are my own, and are not intended towards anyone. This is written with tongue in cheek. Thank you. 

Hello, Human! Welcome to earth!
You might think you're a unique snowflake. So very special, rose petals fall out your ass when you walk. You'd be wrong. Everybody poops, and you are not capable of producing something people would wish to dab behind their ears.
That said: You can be a source of light. You can try to be kind no matter what shit is shoveled at you.
Everyone, from you, to whatever infant came screaming into the world at this moment, has a beautiful soul, and we can make a choice to let the heart harden and become a cynic, or to allow light to shine. To allow for learning, particularly as you will screw up and have to scrape yourself off the ground at times...you might as well learn from it!
Religion is not necessary. You could seriously worship at the church of Happy Cakes for all I care... but have faith, love your fellow man, and try to understand that yes, everyone falls, and no one is immune to stupidity.
You'll fail here, occasionally. But: try this: diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell in such a way that they are delighted to do so. You'll need to do this here and there.
You will not get along with, nor be understood by everyone. Seek not to be understood but to understand.
Goodnight, Gracie. God bless.
PS. The meaning of life is 42.
So long, and thanks for all the fishes.

I Cannot Phrase It As I Want, But Me Talk Pretty Someday

Some big misunderstandings- some of which, I am indeed heartbroken about, have taken place this month. So far I have yet to be able to fully say "Ok, here's this... and I am therefore attempting to refocus" correctly. I do write things out, as numerous doctors, teachers and friends have told me, for a sort of therapeutic release. So that maybe I can put things together... "I am sad because..." . At this time, I am cluttered. Way too many hats to wear- family lunacy, a fun battle with a polar opposite (read "fun" sarcastically.)- and as of yet, way too many dips into what is negative. I am attempting at this moment in time to refocus. To try to calm jittery nerves. Too Much All At Once has me a bit shaky and on edge. And it has shown. At times, things written are either starkly sarcastic, although I'm fond of dry deliveries and sneak punch lines, or they're meant to get things out prior to verbally stating something, so that I can perhaps neaten it up and avoid saying something I don't want to actually say. I am not actually phrasing things right and am hot-blooded at this moment in time. Because I still feel a bit bloodied myself, and I guess it's leaking. There are things I cannot tolerate, and if I am scared that something will hurt me, I fight back with all weapons I have. I may not say things politely, or as I intend. Please, for the love of God...don't assume! I've been dealing with fright, anger and all else. No, I am not exiling people who care- I am attempting to calm myself. Because I have had to deal with fear, and it sapped me. Try, please, to read things as: "Very stressed. Cannot calm. Needs to, is focusing inward- trying to sort things so I can work on them" It is a muddle, and I have to work on it on my own. So endeth the Public Service Announcement, and now, for this week's episode of Blossom...

April Showers

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars".
Darkness and tragedy, drama, and more stress than it seems the sane could handle is all around at present. I joke often, "I can feel it in the air: there is a baby with diaper rash in Timbuktu tonight." It is a disastrous feeling, a sad one, when you do have to throw up hands and say, "There is not much I can do, I can be there, but I do not have a magic wand to wave. They have to improve on their own power."

Yes, there are people in the world who thrive on others' pain. A cry of help is music to their ears. There are also people who give, and give and give, who, if a group were starving to death, no hope of rescue in sight, would offer an arm and say "Oh, take my arm, I don't need two." Who receive the pain, and as they have been leaned upon, do not know how to lean on anyone else. These are marvelous, beautiful souls who keep their pain hidden-at least until the inevitable blow up comes. People are bleeding. Oh, April, thou art a cruel month. Under your gray skies and downpours, it seems casualties tend to be taken more often at this time of year. Not, of course, that I could or would chart that, it's not a set of problems and results I'd like to take upon myself.

I have to learn when to say "When". (Out of curiosity, have you noticed- when people are told "Say when" they most often do not, but instead offer "Stop." "Done" or "Oh, too full!")
But, just as there are those who do thrive upon drama, feeding upon it like rabid hyenas upon a gazelle's corpse, so too should be the ideal of "Offer light. Offer sunshine. Yes, things suck and stress is all around. But you can be better than that, right?" I cannot help being idealistic anymore than I could help being an imperfect human. But I can learn, even from assholes. In every life, some rain must fall. Well, then here I come in my ducky wellies... to dance in the puddles, and to hopefully, offer a light in the darkness. 

Long Month Is Long

Okee dokee. Rough damn month. Begun dreading easter and numerous sad anniversaries. Lunacy to follow, and I can't slow down or quit thinking and just relax for the life of me. I am either not saying things correctly, or else, I have to really work on my "short answers"- "Need break. Long month is long. Need to focus".
Ah, Easter, you came with your own special gifts, didn't you? Dad's 65th birthday, and a fight with my brother over trolling an atheist...who had gone after me earlier. When I have no clue HOW to troll. I had merely meant to ask, that even if we are human, prone to screw ups (me more so than others) why can we not use this time to actually absorb the message of Christ, whether he be historically accurate or not. I very nearly quoted the "More things in heaven and earth, Horatio..." bit but I don't think it would fit and I'm in for a battle with a polar opposite. Meaning, I will have to explain, "You are putting your sympathies with a man who thinks Dr. Drew Pinski is stalking him, personally"-and from what I could glean, apparently wishes death upon him personally. among other things. And a man who had lumped all believers in with the false Christians who use God for pogroms, and every war on earth. Who had gotten angry when I asked "If God does not exist, then why are you mad at him?" and answered to a straight "Why not live "Love and Respect eachother" post with more of the same. But, ah, as someone "indoctrinated" from day 1 how could I possibly understand, yes? Need I remind you, you've got 10 more years than I in that department? Way to misread everything... I am a good girl, if I agree, go your way, don't say much, behave. I don't take that from anyone, not even family. Look, I love you. I will not apologize, because I felt attacked, because all I wanted was to learn from the information I was getting and felt smacked instead. No, I will not behave and listen to "those who know better", because you disagree with my beliefs and as a nihilist find me naive. I will stand up for myself, and my beliefs, which do not generally belong to particular religions, but to a simple belief in God and that I want to know the reasons why things are, and what everyone, from a satanist to a basic deist thinks and does. I am not content with lessons from the pulpit. I want history, whys, wherefores. And Jeff, you are NOT my father. Do not attempt to give me an order to obey my betters. I did not take it from school teachers, I will certainly NOT obey you. I am in my late 20s and do not simply obey like an infant.

Miss Beth Takes On Dear Abby

Every now and then, my email gets a little backlogged. I decided to see if I could manage snappy answers. Because, well, being a smart-ass is my salvation at times.

-Question: Dear Beth, how do I go about finding a good gynecologist?
Answer: See that he's gentle. It's not that I'm sentimental, it's just that I'm horrified.
Ooo{And there are people that I'd rather never think about in that way. Shudder.}
-Question: Dear Beth, I have this growth...
Answer: I'm told that a cold shower takes care of that.
(Actually, they were talking about a mole, but until I replied to a vague message asking "What the hell?" my brain did quite a few circles. I could leave you in suspense, but really--- not my style, no brain-to-mouth-or-keyboard-filter, and all.)
-Question: Dear Beth, the world is full of theories and craziness. How do you cope?
Answer: Well, it goes like this: "Were the sky actually falling, Chicken Little, the sky would come to rest upon the mountains of idiots that plague the land". Not seeing people laid out flat here there, everywhere, gives me reassurance that all is where it's supposed to be in that regard.

-Question: How can you be a Catholic?
Answer: Not easily. Rather hard on the knees. Wait... Ok, actually-We all go through a period of confusion. I'll get back to you.
-Question: I'm a nice guy, why can't I get a date?
Answer: That never flies with me. Nice guys truly have no clue they're nice. And no, I don't particularly enjoy the time-honored pursuit of pretending to find my coffee cup interesting while someone discusses World of Warcraft. My humble apologies to WoW fans.
-Question: Do you like sports other than ballet?
Answer: Me like hockey.
-Question: Dear Beth, why do you insist that Edward G. Robinson was miscast in the 10 Commandments?
Answer: I expect Dathan to chomp a cigar, ask where his money is, and order an egg cream and lox bagel. "Whey-ah is yo gawd nao". Brooklynese is not, I suspect, an accent germane to the atmosphere of that region about 5,000+ years ago (est)
-Question: What color was Jesus?
Answer: if Jesus were born to a woman in Galilee, I would think he'd likely have a rather olive complexion. Someone living in that area likely would have that Mediterranean skin, not to mention the sunlight, etc
As for Hay-soos, it varies. I'm assured that he's available for lawns this summer.
-Question: How well do you speak Polish?
Answer: I think I recently accidentally asked my Aunt Gertie where the pot stash was. I seriously meant to ask about the whereabouts of the bathroom, I was dreadfully afraid it had somehow been misplaced! = )
-Question: Dear Beth, what do you think of these Nigerian scams?
Answer: I had no idea scams had nationalities. But my friend Ibraham is very nice, and he's praying for me.

DISCLAIMER: This concludes another fun installment of Ask Miss Beth. Send in your questions. Note: I may be sarcastic/ snarky. I may be extremely blunt. Do not expect a straight answer, but expect that I do not have a filter between my brain/ mouth/fingers. If I feel it, I say it. Thank you.

Sometimes, the questions are complicated, but the answers are simple. _Dr. Seuss

Happy Easter, In Five Seconds

Happy Easter, everyone. Remember, it's not eggs, chocolate, ham and green bean casserole. It's not bunnies. It's faith. Faith makes you whole, moves mountains, and 2,000+ years ago, we were given a priceless gift. God bless, whatever your beliefs. ♥


And because it's a favorite at the moment: Angel's wings are gonna carry us away... (Tough to find this acoustic version.) My gift, today, is music. Interpret the meaning as is seen fit... the first part is what I generally apply to myself :) 

Easter, Zombie Bunnies, and the Dalai Lama

It's Holy Week... I kind of did a poem (or maybe not) on the tale we all know.

Sunday, we celebrate Jesus rising from the grave. We also celebrate an ancient pagan ritual. *GASP!* Ah, yes, it's true.
We celebrate the spring, a time of fertility (herein comes our fecund rabbits! Oops. Bad pun NOT intended!) Many will go to church, for perhaps the first time since Christmas. We call that a C&E Christian.
We will sit through services, "He is risen, He is risen", "The women went to the tomb (with embalming ingredients, at that) and found it empty- and despite everything they'd been told, were shocked! (Although, it is rather difficult for a human to understand someone actually defeating death, but Lazarus had been raised in their lifetime, what made them think that someone, whom a woman, with a "bleeding issue" for 12 years had touched and healed at that casual contact, or who had healed lepers, could not do the same as Lazarus, who had begun to exibit a condition after his death of "He has been dead for 3 days, he stinkith", who had removed 10,000 demons from Legion...could not also rise again? Oh ye's of little faith!) -I wonder, if at least once, after seeing a shocked look (although, as humans, we might too be weirded out seeing someone killed violently walking about)- He thought, "Hey, I TOLD you I'd be back. Haven't you seen enough to know I could manage it?"

And how else do we celebrate? Eggs. From the pagan roots. (FERTILITY!) Chocolate. Chocolate rabbits. Jelly beans which look like small birds' eggs. Family feasts.

You know what? How about honoring our deity, and meaning it? How about "giving birth" to honor, love & acceptance? And oh, how about a zombie chocolate bunny, just for fun? I mean the little guy (top)  is kind of cute.

To close: Just remember this: It is not religion. It is faith.
FAITH. FAITH. FAITH!
Developing love and compassion and reducing anger and spite is a universal activity which requires no faith in any religion whatsoever.- the Dalai Lama

Holy Week

Solemn faces
Candles galore
Preparations and feasts and solemnity

A lamb led to slaughter
Betrayed with a kiss
30 pieces of silver- for what price a friend, for what price a love?

A prophecy to fulfill
A life to give
So all may be free

One day, he rode into Jerusalem
A humble donkey the King rode

One day, they feasted
"Take eat, this is my body. Drink, this is my blood".

One day he was arrested
Whipped
Cruelly paraded in cloth of purple
And crown of thorns

Pontius Pilot, after asking him every question he could
After trying to free him, only to give up a murderer to the shrieking crowds instead
Washed his hands of the responsibility and sent a lamb to his doom


One day, he died with dignity none could remove
Hung naked and bleeding on a cross

Forgiving a thief, and forgiving those who mocked him
"He saved others, himself, he cannot save."

One day, the women found his grave empty
One day, he showed himself to his friends and followers
One day, a Doubting Thomas had to touch his still-bleeding stigmata himself, before he could believe that the promise to come back had come true.

And one week, we celebrate a week that ends darkly
And begins again with sunlight and joy.

Happy Birthday, Babies!

The babies are growing up!

Sierra Anne-Marie is 7 now (as of April 18th). She is a funny, plucky kid, who enjoys the California sunshine, Hello Kitty, Disney Princesses, her pets, her parents, and is extremely whip-smart. She is also very gorgeous, and I don't say that just because people say we look alike (Especially when we pout, was occasionally added.) I am glad to finally know of her and welcome her to our family, along with her mother Renee, and her brother and sisters.

Happy Birthday, Sierra!

Lorelei at 3 mos old, September 2006, puckering up for Mama.

Lorelei's first smile

Little Miss Lorelei Sarah, my precious, who has fought and fought and fought, and through it all, remains a very strong and feisty girl, and of course, absolutely gorgeous. She likes yellow, kitties, Dora, school, coloring, reading, and birds. She has made me cry, laugh, and wonder at the strength of one teeny little person. From a 4lb 7oz girl the size of a Cornish game hen, to the feisty five-year old she is now. She is 5 on May 16th.

Happy Birthday, to My Sweet Little Lori-Pie

One of our very first meetings


And of course, a special little guy named Connor Matthew, who is 7 on May 27th.
Connor has fought, against illnesses and food allergies, and against prejudice. And he remains funny, smart, and marvelous, of course, it runs in our crazy, crazy family! And congratulations, my funny smart nephew, for making the merit roll at your new school! Yay! 

Connor Matthew, goofing around with his puppy, Oscar.

I didn't mean to teach him that habit. Oops!

Connor Matthew & Aunt Beth

The Week As One of One Hundred Thirty-Three

The availability of experts on the gluten free diet is scary, almost as scary as those who lie about it or actively discriminate. (There's even a facebook page, We Love Gluten- with tagline "And hate anyone who can't have it". )Which has since been removed. Hmmm...

Even the gluten-free nutrition experts can be full of horseshit. My sister & I seperately dealt with such nonsense. One proclaimed sugar to act as a drug. Not so much! And praised quinoa to be an end all be all. But what of potato, tapioca, rice, almond, guava, fava bean, and more. Look, I love quinoa. Good cereal. But fuck if I'm living on cereal!

Sugar, by the way, is not a drug as it does not stimulate the "addiction center" of the brain. True! This expert was placing it in the same damn category as nicotine, caffeine and crack! I am saddened and insulted.

I was cheered when Bob's Red Mill, who works hard for the GF community, responded honestly and took buckwheat flour (usually, buckwheat is considered "GF Safe") because it did not always test gluten-free out of the GF product line. They may not be a  totally gluten-free company, but they are rigorous.
So, I guess, it's win-some-lose-some.

As for the NC baker who lied to customers - re-packaging normal bread as Gluten-free, to the government, and what not, he is guilty and sentenced to 11 years in prison.
A group, 1 In 133 (One out of "every" one-hundred and 33 Americans has celiac or other gluten intolerance) is pushing to make the packaging of gluten free items safer, with mandatory labeling, which is not required at this time.

Batyushka

Dad & I, (funky hat courtesy of Grandpa) on my first Christmas.

Dear Gentle Giant,
It's come around again... the anniversary of the day your strong, gentle spirit left this world. In 16 years, there have been many, changes.  I'm 28 now, Batyushka. I've had a child of my own...your grand daughter, Lorelei Sarah. Eyes of brilliant blue, a lot of beauty, inside and out, and a strong, spunky spirit to match. She has survived much. We never did know the word "Quit", did we?

You taught me to never ever believe the word "can't"--- "You can't do this, you're too sickly, or whatever"... I was taught, if not in those exact words, to say "Screw you! Yes, I can!" And I will live that, and teach that.

I still have that darned stuffed skunk you made me years ago... new stitching, new stuffing, and she has gone through a lot of wear and tear, but Flower is still with me, one of the tangible parts of you, that I still have. Numerous times, I had to leave her, or had the threat of disposal over my head... I still hold her dear :) 

here we are, almost 3 decades later :)


You taught me to love music, even when difficult to hear, to feel it. From Peter Paul & Mary... you taught me to love Puff, the Magic Dragon. Your Jackie Paper isn't giving up the simple things!This was my nighty- night. Good Morning, Starshine was how you greeted me, with the look that said I was beautiful, even appearing at the breakfast table to almost sleep in my cornflakes, my braids or ponytails askew, wearing old sweats or one of your shirts that due to your height and build, still hang almost to my knees, but hung to my ankles as a child.

Goodnight, Batyushka. Ya ochen tebya lubloo. 

Egg Cream Nostalgia

In 2001, I met a dear sweet girl, up in Cobleskill. She came from Brooklyn, and when we travelled back by train to meet her crazy, elderly Polish/Argentinean/Jewish parents, I was not only welcomed immediately, but... I was treated to an egg cream for the very first time. This was a marvelous treat, and is so not described by its name. I expected milky eggs in a cup, and then, I got this lovely chocolate soda. The ingredients are simple...and oddly, contains no egg. Anna: THANK YOU! :-)

An egg cream, as I had it, is made this way, and I hope to replicate it soon! (Although nothing beats Brooklyn for this. We have wings, you have egg creams.)

1/2 cup of whole milk
1 cup of just-opened bottled seltzer
2 tablespoons of chocolate syrup. New Yawkas insist on Fox's U-Bet syrup for this.

Preparation:  

Pour 1/2 inch of cold milk into a tall soda glass. Add seltzer or club soda to within 1 inch of the top of the glass; stir vigorously with a long spoon (this will cause it to become white and bubbly with a good head of foam).

Very gently pour 2 tablespoons of chocolate syrup slowly down the inside of the glass; briskly stir with a long spoon only at the bottom of the glass where the chocolate sits. The resulting drink should have a dark brown bottom and a 1-inch high pure white foam top (if you mix it too much, the foam disappears).
I am nostalgic. And cannot believe it's been 10 years already since I first had this treat. 

The Happy Assassins

I am beginning to become a bit hot under the collar.
There seems to be an epidemic of Happy Assassins.
In late March, came one Mr. Damian Cardone. (Damian, who'd have thunk it?) who bragged, publicly about making people ill. Who claimed that gluten free was just a trend, only a rare few, when called on it, were even given credit for really needing the gluten free diet. His Facebook is in the ether, but screenshots remain. Like this one. I have a large copy I keep around. (It reads: "Gluten free is b******t." Celiac disease is where people are physically intolerant to gluten. Cardone goes on to say even when customers ask for gluten free products, "I serve 'em our pasta...with high gluten flour... chefs love to use people as experimental research." Then, in North Carolina, the owner of a bread company blithely lied to customers "Sure, completely safe- gluten free, clean site, honest". (Sir, no where in Southern Hospitality does it make it OK to get people ill.) As one unhappy consumer put it: "I ate a bagel and was on the bathroom floor all night." 2 weeks. 2 "chefs/bakers".  See Paul Seelig/ Great Specialty Bread Co. Sick people. And people who are sick in the goddamn head and should have known better. How is any celiac/ gluten/wheat/allergic/sensitive person to feel safe/ reassured? And will I get my appetite back? These questions may be answered on next weeks's episode of SOAP.

Paul Seelig: News Story:

Sorting Through Muck

I'll try to put this into perspective.
There is FAR, far more going on than I can handle. I'm having to just focus on me- I'm OK... I'm a feisty broad. But- there are a gazillion situations.
*Hitting the stage of grief where you don't necessarily think about them every day. I've quit dialing the first 6 numbers of Grandma's to ask her for coffee.
*My family is falling apart. And when fighting with eachother while the will probates, who is the one they go to?
*I felt shoved one night. I had tried to explain: "Give me time to myself. I need to focus. I need to recharge. I need to think." It had, at that point, nothing to do with you. I wanted to think, I need to protect myself.
It felt like, when I was started on with: "I've read all the psychology books and law books- you need help 'Friend to friend' -(Wink?) " and told me that what every lawyer, everyone I know has told me, was wrong- simply because I had said it, not Miss "I Am Always Right". Piling in every issue and attacking ME, personally? I do my damndest not to do that. You want to start a clinic for battered women? That's actually great. The Salvation Army does jack shit. Would I EVER put one down? Are you fucking kidding me? Way to make yourself look like an ass in public- instead of focusing on the issue try reminding me of my ex husband shouting "You're crazy! This is how a man makes sure a woman behaves!"-and justifying his abuse with "Oh, she's just crazy, so she gets shy sometimes, it's her psychosis". (When I was actually hiding--- physical wounds!) sure, bring it ALL rushing back- and the times I was told to "Get help" after I'd run. Hint: Do not, when someone is healing, rip off the goddamn scab.
*I know that I accidentally missed some calls. This is not unusual. Next time, alone or not, I am answering it with "I'm getting laid right now, can I call you back?" *CLICK*
If I ask "Am I only your friend if I agree with you" and you ask me to hear reason, then you gave me a fine answer, indeed.
*My alarm bells are ringing loudly, and I may well be able to be referred to as Chicken Little. This is stress. Stick by, I am not generally a lunatic.
*Of course, talking is hard--- I'm not sure what to say, and well, I gotta sort. I also need a vacation. And a massage. (Happy Ending, too? <----I kid)

Home Made Play-Doh

The colorful childhood modelling substance, originally created by a pre-school teacher using a putty wall-paper cleaner, is a marvelous toy.
How many toddlers try a few putty-y and icky bites? Show of hands? I did. The things you learn as someone with Celiac Disease--Play-Doh contains gluten. (It's in a lot of things, kind of scary, really!)

Plus, making your own, and dying it whichever color you like is a lot more fun. So, pull out the ingredients, grab the bowls, and let's make a mess!

Non-Edible:
(I'll probably be doing this, the peanut butter one is fun, and I have 7 pounds of the crap to use up! But alas, a lot of peanut allergies.)
• 2 Tbsp cream of tartar
• ½ cup salt
• 1 to 2 Tbsp cooking oil
• 1 cup water
• food coloring
Mix flour, cream of tartar, and salt in a pan. Mix desired coloring with water, add with oil to dry mixture. Cook over medium heat until thick. Mix in coloring later if preferred.
Kool-Aid and Crystal Lite iced tea also make awesome dyes.


For those who can have peanut butter, an edible Play-Doh. Who doesn't like to play with their food? I used to bury small plastic Army men in my mashed potatoes. I was a weird kid. Anyway...

Peanut Butter Play-Do With Milk (Edible)
 1 jar (18 oz. ) peanut butter
• 6 tsp honey
2/3-1 cup of flour (thanks for the correction!)
• non-fat dry milk or milk plus flour to make desired consistency
Mix all together. Can decorate with raisins,chocolate chips, coconut, etc.

Peanut Butter Play-Doh minus milk (Edible)
• ½ cup peanut butter
• 2 Tbsp honey
• ½ cup flour
Mix all together.


ENJOY! :)