Completely giddy

So along with my new Building the Muse blog project, there are a few other things that I am mentally ready to start tucking into my bag of tricks. The main one that I am completely over the moon about is learning how to bake. Baking is something that I have always envied in other people. To be able to turn out tender pie crusts and gooey perfectly balanced chocolate chip cookies is a skill that I thought possible only of the white-coated professionally trained gods and goddesses of the kitchen. And then I few months ago, I got to thinking. My MOM baked when I was a kid. I remember baking bread, sweet rolls, soft pretzels and sugar cookies. I remember licking the mixer beaters when my mom made cakes from scratch. The double boiler came out at Christmas when we made chocolate candies for our teachers. I'm skilled with my hands as an artist, why the heck can't I do this myself? Then to take it a step further - have you actually taken the time to READ the labels on the ready-baked goods in the grocery stores? They are longer than the inventory list at the San Diego Museum of Art. There are words in those lists that are not pronounceable without a degree in phonetics. And I have been eating that junk out of convenience for how long? Yuck. My intestines are sticking together just thinking about it. Shouldn't there be just flour, sugar, milk, butter, chocolate, vanilla beans? Simple ingredients, not chemically preserved sugar bombs meant to survive longer than radiated cockroaches.


So I started slowly with the obligatory banana bread. Then I pulled out the chocolate chip cookie recipe from my childhood. Now I'm ready to tackle sticky buns. Next, my grandma's chocolate cake with a possible detour to those amazing soft pretzels we made when I has a kid. Two Christmases ago, I was extremely successful at making caramel sauce. Sugar, cream, and butter - the real deal. I was so incredibly impressed with myself; I think I shed a tear. Really. I did it, and did it well! And it was good. Amen. A warm golden brown with a great consistency - not too sweet - just right.

So I have my list ready to go to prepare my kitchen with the tools necessary to succeed. My mom caught wind of my endeavor and got me started by bringing over my great-grandmother's ceramic mixing bowl last night. I can't believe this amazing piece of family history is in my home. It’s well over 100 years old. I remember my mother letting bread dough rise in it on the stove top. She had special tea towels to put over the top that were reserved for baking only. Heaven help the child who used them to mop up spilled milk!

Today I'm ready to purchase a rolling pin, long oven mitts to spare my arms from my clumsiness, parchment paper, a candy thermometer, a small cast-iron skillet and my own special tea towels. I'm going to splurge on Vietnamese cinnamon and European butter. And the most frightening item on the list is yeast. Yeast. Little tiny temperamental sugar-eating, warm-water swimming organisms. And they scare the heck out of me.

It's time to tackle the fears and hope that the weathered old bowl will bring me the wisdom of generations past. A little luck wouldn't hurt, either.

The new project

So that legendary bird sat on my shoulder a few months back and whispered, hey lady, you have quite a story to tell. Why yes, I do, says I to my fluttering avian friend. Recent events have prompted me to look into the publishing world and I found that not only is it very difficult to get a book published, the subject matter on which I was planning to focus on is a very tough sell to all the various publishing houses. I thought I would try anyway and quickly discovered that my brain does not function in such a linear fashion. What was pouring out of my pen and onto my crisp and crunchy new notebook was cathartic, but would there be interest in the way I was telling it? Maybe, maybe not. Not to be self-depreciating and if I was really really telling myself the truth, probably not. I don't have an English degree, or pure journalism experience, or a sharp pen with which to capture everything in such a succinct way that it would be a smooth read from start to finish.

So I thought, well then, how the heck will I be able to do this? To put everything down in words that form stories with injections of images and other inspirational thoughts can be rather fractal. I also tend to lean to the randomness of my world and to organize myself to the degree required to write a novel just ain't gonna happen. No way, no how. Not for all the hippos in the world, though my four year old gem of a child will be very disappointed, to say the least.

OK.

And there it was, looking me square in the face. Not only do I keep a quasi blog of sorts, but I read about four "mommy blogs" and three other thought collection blogs every single day. Duh. I very much enjoy the candid nature of them and I like the way that they can make you feel like you are in that person's living room with them through the power of wit and word. Every morning, I get all kinds of excited to open up my web browser to see what new and wonderful stories I can absorb about my favorite persons on the Internet. Hey!!! I can have one of those, too!

Eventually, this blog will move to it's own website. And wow! Lookie there! I have the great and wonderful privilege of being recently married to the most amazing computer dork in the world. He builds amazing websites for people for a JOB. Wow. JACKPOT! (Thank you baby doll and love of my life, even though you have no idea what you are getting into yet.) And I have nothing but time on my hands to bombard my little spot on the web with all my ramblings and musings.

The story I have to tell will be revealed in juicy little nuggets as I am reminded of them and have the need to share. It's one of pain and death - of others and of mine, of re-building and new growth, of healing and happiness, of food and inspirations and most importantly the love I have for those I choose to surround myself including my kick-ass husband, children and most importantly, the new-found respect I have for myself. I have been through many months of painful therapy and have come out on the other side with the ability to look back without all the black thunder clouds of emotion that were plaguing me for the better part of a decade. If I am able to help just one person by writing down my experiences and solutions, then my work will be even that much more complete. Just one person to say - oh my, I thought I was the only one going through this and holy crap you survived and I can do it too. That would mean the absolute world to me. Hippos and all.

Thanks, little bird.