Carrie Maldonado – Writer

Freelance writer, wordsmith, and novelist

It’s been a season of quiet reflection and re-calibration for me and my family, as God is clearing paths, closing doors, and opening my mind up to new possibilities. He is not a TAME lion, is he…?

A couple days ago I posted on Facebook my desire to collect my friends’ best and worst end results of pumpkin carving. At first it was motivated by the fact that I think Pinterest fails are hysterical. Maybe because all most of our projects end up in that category that I have a fondness. But then I saw some posts of some pumpkins that like works of ART, so even though they don’t make me laugh, they are aspirational – as in, something to aspire to. Someday. Maybe.

This past weekend Dreamy, the kids, and I took off on Friday for a long weekend in a secluded cabin deep in the mountains. The idea was to totally disconnect from the busy-ness and general chaos that is part and parcel of daily life in our society (and our lives) and reconnect with the busy-ness and general chaos that is our family. We’ve been at this cabin before, in June of 2016, and many things have changed, but many have stayed the same. Both times we left feeling it was an unqualified success and in both cases that was mostly due to our ability to accept unanticipated deviations from the expected as…well, the expected.

This is like cake and cheesecake all rolled into one. The original recipe was garnered out of a simply ingenious book called ‘The Cake Mix Doctor’ (Volume 1) that my super cool friend Tara, a forensic CSI who also is a terrific baker, told me about. The best thing about this recipe is that it’s extremely versatile in that you can start with a base and basically add anything to it.

My mission as a writer is to encourage and inspire others, but as a mom to three small children, a wife, and an entrepreneur for three business, sometimes things get overwhelming. I don’t know about you, but for me it’s like everything is going amazingly well, and I’m firing on all cylinders, and then BAM! the wheels start falling off. I’m usually an upbeat, laugh-in-the-face-of-pretty-much-everything kind of gal, which sometimes makes it difficult for me to admit when I’m not doing so well, or ask for help. Because I deal with pain by laughing at it, it’s hard for people to know when I’m actually not doing okay.

As a writer  I just can’t resist the temptation of a long, juicy description of EVERY detail (much like every three-year -old at bedtime). Alas, descriptions make unexciting novels, so most of foodie stuff didn’t make the cut. But like a few of my characters, the sharing of the recipes idea would just not stay dead. So, I am presenting to you in blog form some of the recipes that the grief group members brought to table, so to speak. Last week I shared Archie’s cinnamon rolls. Today, I am pleased to present Charlotte’s chocolate chip cookies.

In Grace Group, when Holly reluctantly joins a grief support group for people who are dying, one of the first things she notices is a plate of fragrant and sinfully delicious cinnamon rolls that Archie, a group member has brought. Although the people in the grief group have a lot of legitimate woes, worries about cholesterol or long term ramifications of unhealthy eating isn’t on the list. Archie found this recipe (and the picture) on Rachel Farnsworth’s site, The Stay At Home Chef.

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