I’m a baker. I love to bake. Cookies, cakes, sweets… Dinner is a chore, but whipping up a batch of brownies, that’s a gift. A gift to my heart, to family, friends, celebrations, comfort and sometimes condolences.
When Neil was 5, one of his friends came through the door, took a huge inhale through his nose and said, “I love your house Neil. I love coming through the door. It always smells good.”
This momma will forever be in love with that child. I certainly consciously or subconsciously decided then and there to always make my house smell good, welcoming and inviting. Come on in, there’s food, comfort and family here.
Baking has taught me: one little friend loves the cookie stand better than the candy drawer (I take that as huge compliment.); One teen-aged friend thinks my house is broken if I don’t have cookies (and he likes to package some prettily to give his girlfriend); Another teen-aged friend and his family are brownie hoarders (batches have to be baked and specified who is the owner); I know who loves macaroons, who loves shortbread and who loves any and all cookies, who doesn’t like chocolate, who only wants chocolate and who will die for peanut butter and chocolate. All of which makes me smile and fills my heart.
Which brings me to today’s post… The baking supplies are dwindling. I might have one day on which I can bake left. Containers need to be emptied and cleaned. There might be a half a cup of sugar left. There’s a bag of flour that will never be opened. All my extracts will have to be given away. What about those cake mixes I stocked up on to make sherry cakes (try this. It’s GOOD!)?
Pack up the rest of the house. Put away everything else. But my baking supplies? My pans? My specialty spatulas? My “secret” ingredients for brownies?
It makes a baker cry.
And a crying baker can’t bake.