Timing ~ 3

Finding the rhythm

Changing the dance

Baking and sewing

Creating a home.

“The kitchen. The bathroom. The yin and yang of the household.”

~ David C. Holley,  Write like no one is reading

Apple Spice Cake

I baked today. Oops, I hope Jim doesn’t mind that I used his words. (that's Jim of Jim's Bread & Buns - website: jimsbuns.ca)

I’m in a new kitchen. Finding the kitchen and fridge are easy and pretty obvious but finding where I put each of the spices was a challenge! And the recipe asked for ‘mixed spices’ as well as a list of other ones. Mixed spices are not the same as allspice! Did I mention this recipe was from the Hairy Biker’s Diet Club website?

Google was very busy finding substitutions for weights and measures, finding out how many apple slices are in 500 gm., finding a recipe for making Mixed Spices! (An aside: Allspice is from dried, ground pimento berries.)

With all of the changes that I had to make to the directions, plus learning how to set temperatures on the stove and make Mixed Spices, I have created the same cake pictured on the website. It’s a bit browner on top, but the altitude, I’m guessing, shortened the baking time by 15 minutes.

My Apple Spice Cake coming to work with me this afternoon for taste testing. I doubt that I’ll have a problem finding volunteer tasters.

“Through enjoyment we endure.”

~ Florence Ditlow

Jim's Bread & Buns - website:  jimsbuns.ca

Hairy Bikers Diet Club - https://www.facebook.com/bikersdietclub?fref=ts

Wanting More

Remaining unchanged 

yet wanting more,
I turned the rusty key to a door locked up in my mind.
The door that I opened
was one I had closed
not knowing it’s value today.
A lesson I’d learned not so long ago had more gifts 

to learn about change.
Many experiences past had wisdom all of their own.
So the lesson book kept on a shelf in my mind
has been taken out to be read one more time.

“Life can only be understood backwards; 

but it must be lived forwards.”

~ Søren Kierkegaard

Changeling

                      Changeling

Constance Delarosa. I couldn’t get her name out of my head. I hadn’t thought of her for years, but something, or maybe someone, reminded me of her. Was it the garish red dress on the woman in the mall? Or the strange spiky brassy hair on the bustling sales woman in the dress shop? No matter. I remembered her because we had grown up together. Constance was shy, mousy and her social skills left a whole lot to be desired. Always carrying books or reading them. Straggly brown hair with one pink bow trying to hold it out of her eyes. That was when we were kids in high school. I didn’t see her for many years after high school and when I did I didn’t recognize her. Enter the red dress and spiky hair. Constance had changed ~ even her name. Constance had become Connie. We went for lunch that day. That had even changed ~ from the girl who ate only vegetables that had been cooked a certain way, she was now trying new foods. Sushi, never crossing her lips before, was her favourite ~ especially sashimi, with lots of wasabi and soy sauce.

We laughed and talked about those days of Constance and Wendy (that’s me). The serious part was what caused the change. “It wasn’t any great trauma, but loneliness and I was bored!” Black mascara tears traced Connie’s cheeks when she remembered the days in University after class when she watched all the others go out. There was some fun that she didn’t agree with, but she envied the laughter and closeness of her fellow students. So she started changing little things about herself ~ the time she went to bed, how she combed her hair (she got rid of that horrid pink bow). She copied the so-called popular girls in how to dress and how to talk. “Changing my life has not been easy.” And then Constance Delarosa smiled through her tears. “But it sure has been fun.”

“I’d rather be a little weird than all boring”

~ Rebecca McKinsey

Wondering ~ 1

Wondering

I had no idea what to do. Arriving in my new apartment, I had only one chair to sit on. The mirror, left behind, was high on the wall, reflecting what was behind me. Had I made a mistake? The great grand windows looked out over the city but only if I looked closely would I be able to see rooftops, latticed roadways and treetops in bunches of green. The Penthouse Suite. It had sounded so glamourous and it would be ~ when all my furniture arrived, placed as only I wanted it. Hands on my knees, feet flat on the floor, I breathed in deeply and slowly. Sunlight warming the room seemed to bring warmth into me with each breath. How could this new life be a mistake? Yes, I was far away from my family and the life I had known but I was in a place of change. Both in my surroundings, in my heart and in my head. The empty room did not seem so empty anymore as I felt the floor beneath my feet. Solid and real. I lifted my eyes to the mirror and imagined my life reflected there. With the next breath I breathed in the newness and frightening challenge of growing up.

“Growing up changes more than 
playground games and body shapes.”

~ Emma Cameron, Cinnamon Rain

Author's note: Edited January 21, 2024

Wind and Fog

Winds, 

wild and untamed, 

sweep streets clean,
build piles of autumn debris in corners and under bushes.


Chaos, 

controlled and channeled 

only by city streets,
settles and changes 

as thickening fog rolls in 

dampening the noisy world of reason.

“Weather is always unrehearsed.”

~ Marty Rubin