Joy the Baker

Here’s a fun fact:  my Mom is a scrapbooker.  She’s a serious scrapbooker.  She’s got the paper cutters, the corner choppers, the fancy albums and colorful background paper… there are stickers…. so so many stickers.  She’s for real.  Scrapbooking is the new rubber stamping.  Remember the rubber stamp craze!?  Yea, we’ve moved on.  Scrapbooking. 

I went to my parents’ house a few days ago to find these envelopes gracing the brick fireplace.  The envelope in front had my name on it.  I was hoping for an early Christmas stocking.  Boy oh boy did I get it.  Among other darling and embarrassing photos of myself, I found a chronological history of my school days.  From preschool to high school.  Every cute, awkward and downright horrifying picture.  

Now.  Because I don’t know any better.  Because I’m certifiably batty… allow me to share with you preschool through seventh grade.  The later, more awkward years will follow, and we’ll all cry. 

Though she will deny it, my Mom gave me this haircut herself.  I remember very well.  Even at four, I knew how ridiculous I looked.  

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I went to the Foodbuzz Festival in San Francisco last weekend, and all I got were these silly photo booth pictures with my dear friend Tracy of Shutterbean.  

Ok…. that’s entirely untrue.  

I walked away from the Foodbuzz Festival with more kitchen gear than I could carry, pockets full of fellow food blogger business cards, and a belly full of incredible food.  

A room full of food bloggers means a room full of cameras.  So many.  Rather than crowd around and take pictures of food…. I just took pictures of people taking pictures of food.  Weird.  I know.  

This also happened…

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What’s going on in my world?  

Oooh the usual… just swabbing my cheeks, barcoding the samples, labeling them a biohazard, shoving them in an envelope and leaving them for the postman.  That’s normal… I do this nearly everyday.

I’m swabbing because I just put myself on the Be The Match list with the National Marrow Donation Program.  The National Marrow Donation Program houses a giant list and genetic samples of possible donors… a list about 12 million people long.  Dang!  Doctors look for genetic matches for patients that suffer from life threatening illnesses like leukemia and lymphoma.  Sometimes doctors and patients find a genetic match among the millions on the list… sometimes they don’t.  

If I’m a match, some doctors will come to knock me out and take bone marrow from my lower back.  Someone gets my good bone marrow and I grow my own bone marrow back.  Success!  I decided to become a part of the National Marrow Donation Program because I feel blessed enough to be strong and healthy, and would be more than happy to share that health with someone else.  

It’s a bit commitment … one that I considered for months before signing up.  See, there’s needles… and many hours of prep and testing before the actual donation begins.  And… needles.  

I’m not telling you about the National Marrow Donation Program because I want you to rush out and sign up.  It was the right choice for me… but it might not be for everyone.  But… if you think marrow donation might be right up your alley, well then heck!  Get on it!  I just wanted to share.  Now you know what I’m up to when I’m not in the kitchen making cookie dough, or avoiding dishes, or snacking, or drinking wine, or being otherwise silly and unproductive.  

Now you know. 

You know what’s a good combination?  Fried chicken and cupcakes.

You know what else is a good combination?  Me and you.  You and me.

Thank you for bringing your smiling, shining faces downtown on Sunday.  I don’t know exactly how to tell you how much this picnic meant to me.  Let’s see…. how can I relate this to you?

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