By I don't remember all of this week. I remember pieces.
I remember Monday and Tuesday — cattle work, whiskey, the terrible rhythm that had become normal. Wednesday was bad. Thursday was worse. Thursday night I ended up in the barn because I didn't want to be in the house. The house felt too small, too close, too much of my parents' careful not-looking, which is somehow worse than the looking.
I remember the Jim Beam. I remember sitting on a hay bale. I remember the rifle on the hay bale next to me — a 30-06 that Patrick has had since before I was born — because I'd brought it in from the shop for no reason I could name. I wasn't making a plan. That's what I told myself. But the rifle was there and the whiskey was gone and it was two in the morning and I couldn't find one good reason to get up off that hay bale.
I remember Mom's hands. That's the clearest thing. Colleen Gallagher's hands, which have set broken arms and baked pies and delivered calves, those hands closing around the rifle barrel and taking it away without a word. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. I don't know how a mother does that. She took the rifle, helped me up, walked me to the house, made me drink water.
In the morning she drove me to Billings. I don't remember most of the drive. I remember the admitting process at the VA. Fluorescent lights. A woman with a clipboard asking questions and me answering them, mostly.
And I remember thinking, in some part of my head that was still working: this is a beginning. I don't know of what. But something has to begin. The barn can't be the end of the story. I'm not going to let it be.
Mom made me drink water that night, and in the morning she handed me coffee before we got in the truck. That’s the kind of care that doesn’t ask for anything back — it just puts something in your hands. When I got out of the VA and started figuring out what a real morning looked like, I kept coming back to these Good Morning Power Muffins, because they’re exactly what the name says: something solid, something for morning, something that means you got up. I make a batch on Sundays now. It’s not a grand gesture. It’s just a beginning, which is the only kind of beginning there is.
Good Morning Power Muffins
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 37 min | Servings: 12 muffins
Ingredients
- 2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
- 1 cup whole wheat flour
- 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
- 2 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp fine salt
- 2 large eggs
- 1 cup plain Greek yogurt
- 1/3 cup coconut oil, melted and slightly cooled
- 1 ripe banana, mashed (about 1/2 cup)
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
- 2 tbsp ground flaxseed
- 1/2 cup chopped walnuts
- 1/2 cup dried cranberries or raisins
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or grease well with cooking spray.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the rolled oats, whole wheat flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, and ground flaxseed until evenly combined.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, whisk the eggs, Greek yogurt, melted coconut oil, mashed banana, and vanilla extract until smooth and well incorporated.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a spatula until just combined — a few streaks of flour are fine. Do not overmix or the muffins will be dense.
- Fold in mix-ins. Fold in the chopped walnuts and dried cranberries until evenly distributed throughout the batter.
- Fill and bake. Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until the tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Cool. Let muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days, or freeze for up to 2 months.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 225 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 175mg