Monday Morning Baking

With the sun popping up over the horizon, I was already busy in the kitchen. The chill in the house being chased away by the ovens warmth.
We slept with a window cracked last night and it got a bit chilly in the house, no matter, it got me up a bit earlier than normal.
As I was preparing to make a cake for dessert tonight. We will no doubt have company for supper, I thought about my wooden spoon, the wooden spatula and my old and well loved rolling pin that will be used to roll out cookie dough a bit later in the morning. The rolling pin is older than the hills, seasoned just right. The wooden spoons carefully carved by little boys, no more than 12 years old, native wood, but its lost to me now which kind was used. An old hand egg beater standing at the ready. I like to use it so much more than an electric one. I love how it sounds, and how much light your touch must be to get it to work easily. The old time cooking gadgets are my favorite. Measuring cups made from pottery, mixing bowls that were once lumps of clay sitting on a wheel, turned and formed into a thing of beauty along with being useful. Initials of the potter, complete with the date, carved into the clay before it was fired. It has its own history, so much more than something that came off the factory assembly line.
My cook book is old too. It was my grandmothers and contains foods that are just not made much these days. I love finding a page that is splattered with bits of ingredients, those are the pages that contain well loved recipes. Ones made for my mother and her siblings. Eaten with laughter and love. My grandmother content to see the happiness on their faces as they enjoyed a meal, together. Always together. My grandfather at the head of the table and my grandmother at the other end. Children along the sides. I grew up the exact same only I sat next to my grandmother each meal. My two sisters across from us, with their backs to the fireplace. My father at the far end of the table, my mother at the end which was most convenient to the kitchen. We all have our places at the table. In our house the boys had the side of the table that was the least convenient to the work. The girls were on the handy to help side. Old fashioned yes. We are old fashioned that way. And it works for us.
Even now, Melanie and Casi sit on the side closest to the kitchen and Steven and Priscilla on the far side. My helper on the handy side. Talking about this makes me miss Melissa. I wish she was here each week to have a meal with us. Ahhhhhhhh, maybe someday they will find their way back to Texas. Yes, I do wish she was here. And for that I make NO excuses. A mothers love never looses that wish to have all her chicks near by.
Well its time for me to get to the kitchen and get back to my work.

A little poem......
The Simple Joys

They miss so much who do not know
The simple joys of long ago.

The quiet hour, the easy pace,
A path to walk, a day to face.

A small white flower, a bird that sings,
The Happiness in the little things.

The patience for a task, well done,
The gift of rest at set of sun.

The thankful heart, the lift of care,
A friend nearby, a time of prayer.

How much they miss who do not know
The simple joys found long ago.

Amy Perrin