I can make my famous brown and white sugar pancakes by heart now.
I save time. And a great way to avoid leaving out key ingredients – such as baking soda – or doubling key ingredients – such as baking soda. I’ve flipped these classics – this same recipe – for years, probably since the Milwaukee Brewers (or Jewel) were any good.
I looked Saturday at the dry ingredients in the bowl, mostly white even with the brown sugar integrated, and it started the wheels turning.
Not of Hispanic America’s integration or dispersion into modern caucasian culture. I thought of how sugar – brown and white – mixes with salt, baking soda and flour, to become greater than the sum of parts. To become something delicious.
And if you were forced to choose a single grain of that to eat, you’d wish for sugar, right?
(Or for some of you, salt. That’s okay too.)
No one would pick flour. Flour is supposed to kill you, the Internet says. Baking soda – well, the Internet doesn’t tell you how it tastes, so I had to try myself. (I did it just like cops do on TV when they make a coke bust, too, dipping a finger in and licking it.)
Stewing, a little
Baking powder’s a little bitter but nothing to it, by the way.
And what does this revelation have to do with anything? See, I’ve kind of stewed over today’s topic, chosen at random from my ideas list, as always. The universe chose to Tell Me Something Good, a post I read on Sandra’s blog, A Momma’s View.
Some days, you just don’t feel it, though. You know?
The dodgers swept the Rockies, my crap phone won’t run Google Maps, and Gabi sputters at stoplights. I must toss her into neutral and rev the engine or swerve around jerks trying to turn into the church by putting two wheels in the mud and mashing the gas.
(What does it say about me that I consider someone a jerk for pulling into the church and forcing me to bring my dilapidated car to a stop?)
I’m embroiled in first-world bitching despite a wonderful Sunday with my girls that included popsicles and a Big Mac and a Pandora station with CCR, The Eagles, and Poison – “I picked a good station for old guys for you, daddy,” Madison smiled.
The bitter baking soda and the sweet brown sugar (or white) are so mixed in that it’s impossible to distinguish them, especially combined with butter, milk, egg, and vanilla, subject to searing heat, and topped with a little more butter and syrup.
Elements of life
If you’re waiting for the best of times you’re in for a long, long, fruitless wait. Life works like those ingredients, so sifted as to become one, merely portions of the whole. That is, good and bad, happy and painful, elements of life.
And trust me – that’s something good.
Let me tell you how I’ve dealt tonight. I’ve followed moments of bliss in which Camdyn chose to come get my hair cut with me, at a place called Sports Clips, with bouts of anger over a car and phone trying to give up the ghost on the same day.
It’s the good fortune of pairing up with Sarah, the stylist who gave such a personal touch that I actually asked her to sign her work.
Sarah said, are you serious? Yes, I’m serious. I’m having a helluva great day anyway. I feel handsomeish after this haircut, even, so why don’t you carve a mini S right there along the hairline?, I thought. She smiled and laughed, and carved right in.
It might or might not have taken me a fried chicken thigh and an easy-to-make cocktail to relax enough to reflect on something really, really good.
I Googled Whiskey recipes for the lazy and found this 7&7 recipe to take the edge off and just.write.dammit. My girls are sweet, and even though the iPhone 6 Madison gave me when she got a 6+ or 6mega or whatever the hell they call it won’t charge …
On to good stuff
Life is good, and there is so much good to tell you about.
The kids laughed today and I smiled. Sarah signed her work and she’ll even be on the blog one day as a #GirlsRock interview. The TVs off and the kids are mellow and my car will go directly to the shop in the morning, pronto.
And with any luck, this iPhone will charge overnight. The Rockies are contending, my hair feels great, and I learned how to make a quick whiskey cocktail to relax with on a Sunday night, eager to see your words tomorrow in comments and in your posts.
Don’t think twice … it’s all right.
Know what happens? Your 12-year-old kid puts your SIM card in an Android you bought on Walmart.com months ago, and it works, even though the nice kid at T-mobile couldn’t get it to work. And you celebrate with toast and jelly and Hawaii 5-0.
The good and the bad, they’re all there, all the time.
It’s so easy to dwell on the bad, especially when you hate the dodgers and your car stalls. But there’s so much good. So much good that when you lay your head down tonight, you’ll laugh a little, because your phone works.
Also? F*ck the dodgers.