Need and Love

I’m not a big fan of machines.  I don’t identify with gears and pulleys and metal. 

With that said, an analogy comes to mind.  It seems our culture is becoming more and more an engine of sorts, fueled by runaway technology and cravings for privilege.  Collectively we have become One Very Large Machine which ultimately affects our personal identities as machine-like people bedazzled by, and addicted to, excess and technology.

This has become even more apparent since returning home from our visit to Mexico.  Perhaps I was too close to see it before, as if nose-to-nose with my own reality and yet cross-eyed without even knowing it.

In Mexico, I was inspired by the elemental joy of being.  By enterprise without overregulation.  By adventure and discovery, and the struggle for purpose and meaning.

Let me be clear. I like convenience, comfort, and safety.  I don’t hold up the lives of impoverished Mexicans as exemplary.  What I do mean is this: surely we who are culturally distanced can learn from each other.

My intent as I write these words is not to negate the power of the American Dream that cultivates ambition and advancement.  Rather, I ask a rhetorical question.  How can I live simply and well in the midst of all the contrivances and mechanisms, the enticements and appetites, the plastic gizmos and empty promises so prevalent in America? 

While pondering this today, I took a few steps outside the door into a softly falling April snow shower.  Shivering in the chill, I was greeted by a newly birthed, pointy hosta drilling through the earth.  It had speared last year’s dry oak leaves, making a statement: life perseveres.  Next to the hosta, mini-daffodil blossoms stood resolutely, sharing a bold affirmation while dusted with today’s untimely snowflakes: life matures in beauty and love. 

I can choose to carry on, as the hosta does.  To accept each season and situation, cultivate an attitude that recognizes and celebrates the scope of life, and willingly embrace phases of dormancy and vibrancy.  To own what is most simple and basic and true as mine. 

Like the daffodil, I can focus on living as God intended, honestly and in the moment, standing with spirit and resolve that embrace the beauty and purpose of existence, as well as the challenges that come my way.  I don't need to be a hot house plant.

It's true: I want to know the profound breadth and depth of life, to leave the fast-paced mechanics and see into the deeper heart of it.  This means stepping out from behind advancement and security, and whatever seems easier, more enjoyable, or more protective.  I want to explore the scope of human experience, to celebrate the common humanity of humanity and connect through the two things I experienced profusely in Mexico: need and love.  

Magical Mayo

I’ve done this a ga-zillion times, but it never ceases to amaze me. 

Put a farm-fresh raw egg, lemon juice, dry mustard, salt, and oil in a glass jar - I like avocado oil, but light olive is a fine second choice.  Whiz it all together fast and furiously for 20 seconds with an immersion blender, plus another 10 seconds (to jiggle the wand a little from bottom-to-top in order to incorporate all the oil).  Presto, delicious, healthier-than-Hellmann's mayonnaise!

After lunch I gathered ingredients to make salad: broccoli, cauliflower, onions, bell peppers, raisins, and goat feta.  This mixture would require time to marinate to be really-really good in a salad for dinner this evening.  Sadly, I realized I’d used the last of my awesome homemade mayo yesterday, and I needed some for the dressing.

But! In less than 5 minutes (from start to end-of-clean-up) I had just what I needed: freshly-made mayonnaise to add to my other salad ingredients.

    

Delicious!  Magical!

Little Women

A couple of grand-girls visited today, and became dedicated home and fashion designers for about an hour.  They arranged and decorated their one-dimensional felt “house” with standard furniture and interchangeable spring-summer-fall-winter decorations (one sheet had been pre-printed for indoors, one for outdoors), and then outfitted four felt occupants from a vast wardrobe of optional attire intended to match the seasons. 

It was interesting to listen in.  For example, “Look at these shoes – they go perfectly with her Easter dress!” 

“Awwwwww….! Those are (voice slows and heightens in pitch) just a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e!  I love those SHOES!”

Wedding Cake

I’m finally finished! 

Today between 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m., I baked, frosted, and decorated a magnificent, sugared-pansy-studded, five-tiered wedding cake for a friend who will be married tomorrow.

This masterpiece rivals anything I made during my bakery days, although that era did initiate me into the crystallized flower thing.  Sugaring pansies is no small task – you gently use a watercolor brush to dab delicate fresh blossoms with egg white, then dust them ever-so-carefully with super-fine sugar and dry them well.  Finally they're ready for strategic application to the cake.

The whole process began days ago with the flower prep.  It has been time-consuming and exhausting – but also fascinating to watch raw ingredients like flour and eggs and powdered sugar turn elegant before my eyes.  Now that I’m done, when I squint and hold my breath it all seems like a fabulous fantasy, almost as if I tumbled down Alice’s hole to discover a cake wonderland.

Here’s a confession. When I sold my bakery back in 1999, I vowed I would never make another wedding cake.  And I meant it. I wasn’t going to face that kind of stress again EVER. 

Another confession: I still mean it.

Maybe you’re wondering, “Where’s the finished picture of this incredible cake?”  

Well…here’s the final confession.  There is no cake!  It’s April 1^st, remember? I copied the picture of the sugared pansies from the internet (thanks Google). 

HAHAHAHAHAHA!  April fools!!