I love the other girl in my life. She brings me so much joy and ease. You know the one ~ normally in yellow, with the red top...her name begins with P (am). I was introduced to her shortly after I was married. See even though she had been around for quite some time, she was never in our home growing up. We did things the 'old fashioned' way. Pans were greased with crisco, or butter. Eggs were cooked in bacon grease. *YIKES* Surely my heart just skipped a beat typing that out.
This week I was not due to go on a food gathering trip until Wed. On Tuesday I was out of bread. No problem I'll just bake some! Enter flour, yeast, sugar, water, oil & more. Bread rises, bread falls. I go to reach for the other girl in my kitchen and realize she's gone. She was empty the night before and so she went to be recycled. I text hubby at the school to pick up my girl on the way home. He comes home MINUS the girl. Um...what to do...what to do.... Seriously it was like I had forgotten how to cook. Had I blocked all those years of wiping crisco on the inside of a pan with a paper towel from my memory? The dusting of flour evenly ~ hoping to avoid clumping and wearing it all at the same time? What had become of my pre-married baking days? Somewhere in the back of my mind that memory was triggered and I could bake bread! I could feed my family warm, yummy, homemade bread! I could survive without her!
On Wednesday I warmly welcomed her back into my kitchen. Her rightful place in front of all the spices and EVOO. There she is safe and sound, ready to grease my pots and pans. Oh how I love her. :)