My grandmother admitted I'm a better cook than she is.

I've been thinking a lot about inspiration and how the only thing I manage to actually accomplish is by cooking. I'm not sure whats holding me back. Well at this portion of my life it's time, or lack there of between taking care of the house, the girls and the dogs.
Perhaps I should actually attempt to do something else. Luckily, I'm to busy to feel like I'm stagnating. Next year we will get the garden done.

My Grandmother is giving me her recipes. I have talked her into sending them to me while she is still alive so that I can cook my way through them and still have her around to ask questions of when I hit a snag.

I don't know if I'm explaining this task well enough-
I come from a family of cooks. Everything from restauranteurs to catering services, farmers wives and cafeteria workers. Here is my recipe collection

I have managed to transcribe most of mine into binders. Now, imagine what it will look like in say... 40 years.
That pile of half used envelopes covered in my family history filling a hutch is what I will be dealing with. Scraps of paper with notes from my beloved family members, being able to translate and transcribe the culinary workings of women with 4th grade educations who managed to raise 13 children during the depression. I am not sure if I can express how much undertaking this labor of love excites me.
The plan is to make them, then type it out and bind it. Find a site where I can have them printed so whoever wants one can just order it.

I'm ready.