I vow never to…

We were sitting by the edge of the Suez Canal, waiting for our turn to cross laterally, as gigantic freighters struggled through the created passage between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean.  We had just been up Mount Sinai, and were returning back to our work in Egypt.

Watching the fascinating ships go by (or more likely the sailors on board) we young women were meeting the world:  greeted by Italians, Spanish, Americans, and others, all who responded warmly to our waves and greetings. 

Except the Brits.  They just stared at us in silent dignity.

“That’s it,” I declared, “I’ll never marry an Englishman.”

That was decades ago. Since then, I have two dual citizen daughters with children of their own, whose amazing father came from Yorkshire, England.  So much for broken self-promises.

Have you ever vowed fervently that you wouldn’t be found dead doing such and such?  Or eating such and such?  Or visiting such and such? Or – Heavens no! – marrying So and So?  I have heard this from people who eventually being very effective priests, teachers, and lovingly-married couples who are still very happy. 

What is it about the nevers, the absolutely nevers, the heck nos!, the strength of feeling that piles up inside us [me] to be so sure?  Is it the current self-image we have at the time? Could we never ever absolutely not see ourselves in such a situation?  Or don’t want to? 

I look back at five other Absolutely Nots I vowed in my life: never to read music at university, never become a teacher, never to be a single missionary and go abroad on my own, never to give out tracts, never to follow my married children around, wherever they go.    When making these self-promises what am I looking at?  Others who seem so dull and ordinary, and why do I want to use the word WATERY?  Certainly, without substance and colour.  And definitely not ME.  I don’t want to be like them!  

I’m astounded.  I mean, what arrogance!

So what has happened to these Self-Vows?

Music at university.  60+ years later.   I’m still thoroughly enjoying playing organ and piano, delighting to play while others sing, still using the theory and techniques learned from Uni. Frequently think of my professors.  About to start on a new piano playing technique introduced by a high school classmate (the good pianist in the class, who is still performing publicly.)

Becoming a teacher.  At University, the biology teacher (no less) said, “Miss Scovel, I understand you want to be a teacher.  You’d make a good one.  Teachers are 10% brain and 90% ham.  ” [Ahhh.  I still remember singing a Japanese song with Second Graders as we lay on the floor pretending to be dead grasshoppers, when the Superintendent of Schools walked in.  “Carry on Miss Scovel, carry on” was all he said.]  I still love teaching….these days I get a “teaching fix” by working with an Afghan woman on her English.  Sometimes my old Arabic or Farsi helps us understand each other. 

Going abroad on my own.  Wonderful welcome from Egyptian (and later Iranian) students.  Delight in the crafty techniques I had to develop to teach music without knowing Arabic.  Struggle and then triumph in reading music right to left, following the Arabic words of hymns.

Giving out tracts.  Not tracts but certainly a lot of brochures for adult education courses when I managed an adult education centre. Met lovely people while doing so.  Developed a fire in my heart for people – everyone – to continue the act of learning, no matter what. Sometimes I am still scarily fierce about it. 

Following married children to live near them.  My house is now only 2 doors away from daughter’s, and I love every minute of it. 

Is it only me? Or have you found that you enjoy things you vowed never to do?

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

I love these cookies.  Maybe it’s the warm comfort of cinnamon coupled with the crunchy oats, or maybe it’s the memory of being taken out of boarding school for tea with a classmate’s parent and sinking my teeth into these freshly baked cookies surrounded by the comfort of a real home, not an echoing dining hall.  My classmate says it was the only cookie her mother ever made. 

In a food processor put in:

1 ½ cups  (180 grams, 7 ounces) plain flour

1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons cinnamon

¾ cup (6 ozs, 170 grams)  soft butter/butter substitute

½ cup (3 ½ ounces, 110 grams) white sugar

1 cup (7 ounces 220 grams) brown sugar

2 eggs.

Whir up to a smooth paste.

Put 3 cups rolled oats in a bowl.  Add a handful of raisins, and possibly walnuts, and the processed batter. (Chocolate chips too?  Why not?) Work it all in together with your hand(s). 

Line the cookie sheets with baking paper.  You can either roll into walnut-sized balls, or drop spoonfuls directly on the paper 2 inches apart.  Or, you can form the dough into a long roll, freeze, and slice off amounts for baking as and when you need them.

Bake 350 Degrees F, or 180 C. for 8 – 10 minutes.  Yield: possibly 3 dozen.  Some still uncooked in the freezer.