Joy the Baker

Dear Girl (that sat next to me on the plane last night),

Hi.  How are you?  This is just a quick note to let you know that you sat on my glasses.  I know that you know that you sat on my glasses.  You did, after all,  hand them back to me crazy mangled.  I trust that you know what shape glasses generally assume.

I understand that there are two active parties in this tragedy.  There’s the person that accidentally left her glasses in the middle seat next to her while she properly stowed her purse under the seat in from of her…. that’s me.  There’s also the person that was in such a hurry to get into that second row middle seat, that didn’t let the girl with the glasses on the aisle properly acclimate before barging in… that’s you.  So, you sat on my glasses.

My favorite part about you sitting on my glasses, was how you showed exactly zero remorse for the damage you caused.  That was awesome.  Hey… remember that part when I was very obviously trying to bend them back in shape in front of you?  Yea… that was pretty fun too.  That was me being passive aggressive.  I bet that was your favorite part.

Oh well, they’re just glasses, right?  Next time, I’ll watch where I put my glasses if you watch where you put your body.  Deal?

Sincerely,

Joy

And now… dark chocolate cookies.  Let’s do this.

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Dear Future Husband and Future Children,

While it’s clear that the universe hasn’t yet pressed us together into a family mold, I think it prudent to get a few things about our life out in the open.  You know, for the sake of transparency.

Future Husband!  In all likelihood, I think you’re the coolest guy around.  You’re awesome.  While I’m certain there are things you do that drive me a little mad, the fact that you help me with the dishes and make me tea in the morning just makes me swoon.  I’m a little quirky.  You’re probably a little nutty too.  That’s only  fair.  You should know that I sometimes show my love in… pancakes, piles and piles of warm pancakes.  Pancakes for breakfast.  Pancakes for a snack.  Pancakes for dinner.  Pancakes.  It’s important that you like, no, loooove pancakes and understand that when I make giant plates of them for breakfast, I’m just trying to show you how much I love you.  Deal?

Future Children!  You’re super cute.  You must be just adorable.  You should know that I want to squeeze you constantly.  When I mix up your names, you should know that it’s not that I don’t know your names… it’s just that things get a little complicated when I’m trying to wrangle all y’all.  Eat your broccoli.  It will make you beautiful, or at least that’s what my Mom used to tell me.  When you feel mortified by my very presence in your teenage years, just realize that that’s all part of the game.  I’m actually not that uncool and you’ll realize that at some point.

Also, like I told your father, I’m going to make you piles and piles of pancakes some mornings.  Eat them, because I love you and you love me, and we love pancakes.

Thanks Future Husband.  Thanks Future Children.  I love you like crazy.  K.  Thanks.  Bye.

Future Wife/Future Mother,

Joy

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I woke up this morning ready to celebrate Friday.  This, despite the fact that I’m convinced that I’m due at least fourteen hours more sleep, and moving past the idea that I deserve a sleep re-do for having fallen asleep with all the light on, teeth unbrushed and (gasp!) bra still on.  I don’t get a do-over, or more sleep… but I do get a Friday, and that’s a little bit of all right with me.

This week, I overheard someone say “Whatever… you know that Thursday is the new Friday.”  Hm… I don’t know where they work, or how they pull that off, but to me “Friday is the same, old Friday”… and sometimes “Saturday is the new Friday” making “Sunday the new weekend”.

Wanting to celebrate Friday as the same, old Friday got me thinking about all the great little moments I had during the week.  You know… the little things- getting a card in the mail from Mom, or finding a crumpled ten dollar bill in your back pocket.

What are the three best things that happened to you this week?   Think on it.  Here’s what I’m workin’ with.

1. I dropped a cake I had just baked on the floor.  We can talk more about that later,  but thought to myself:  ok, well that shouldn’t happen again for another few months.  I’m glad that’s out of the way.  Then I wanted to yell and swear, but there was no one around to hear it, so I didn’t bother.  This restraint for lack of an audience later made me laugh at myself.

2.  I’m sitting here, in this very moment, enjoying a cup of hot tea and a few of my dad’s buttermilk biscuits.  It’s quiet and sunny and just warm enough to not regret my warm covers in the other room.  Quiet simplicity is a week highlight for sure.

3.  I’m going up to Oakland this weekend.  I’m going to wear a dress.  Don’t try to stop me.  Both things are going to happen.

In the meantime, I think you should take these Cinnamon Raisin Pull-Apart Muffins for a spin.

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Something happened last night-

It involved me, my space heater, a few comforters, season one of Pushing Daisies, a spoon, and an entire container of chilled rice pudding.

I realized two things last night. One: while Pushing Daisies is beautiful and charming, it’s almost too sweet. It is still, however, an effective way to wish away three hours of a Sunday evening. Two: Yes, my stomach does have the capacity to hold about 8 cups of rice pudding. How awesome is that!?

I ate the whole thing. Fact. Every last creamy, soft, raisin studded, vanilla bite. And the truth? I’d do it all again tonight if I could… and I can… but I won’t. Does that make sense?

This Rice Pudding might be best shared with your family. It’s Super Comfort.  If comfort became a super hero and came to save the day, it would come in the form of this rice pudding.

If you do have to eat the entire thing by yourself, under your covers on a cold night, well…that’s not such a hard cross to bear, is it?

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