Crinkles make it good

I am making baklava. I am actually sitting in the kitchen right now, just soaking in all the yummy smells seeping from the oven as it bakes.

Baking always reminds me how much I like to create. I like to make something, anything, things in general. There is a sense of accomplishment that I enjoy.

As I was making the baklava and reading all the comments, I came across one that I loved. I will paraphrase here. Don't worry about the fillo dough crinkling up. You aren't trying to make something that looks perfect, you are trying to makes something that is delicious and the crinkles are where all the flavor hides.

I loved it. How true! First, for baklava, my favorite parts are all crinkly! Second, for so many other things. All the "crinkles" in my life have definitely lent flavor.

"A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After 2 years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself because this crack in my side causes water to leak all the way back to your house."

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house." - Chinese Parable

I have missed you

I have missed you, my writing self.

It has been almost a year to the day since I last saw you on here and it feels good.

What has been happening in your life since we last met? Have you been reading? Baking? Laughing at your dog? Learning? Loving?

Ok, now that I am done with the attempts at being literary, here goes.

I have been reading. Some really excellent books this past year. Half of a Yellow Sun came on a recommendation from a new friend and it was spot on. I also highly recommend it. The author is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The Thieves of Manhattan by Adam Langer also stands out. Took me a few pages to get into it, and then wham. I was completely in. I love that, the feeling of being transported into another world by a book. Hmm, the Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde, the second in his Jack Spratt series was as funny and well-written as the first (The Big Over Easy). And one slightly silly book that made me happy. Called The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets by Eva Rice. A little love story. Simple. Nothing earth shattering. But after reading a series of dense, serious books, it was refreshing. A palate cleanser if you will.

I haven't been baking nearly as much as I would like. Time seems to get away from now, and when the recipe calls for six hours, well... I hope to be more active soon. I have tried my hand at Angel Food cake (uses up the eggs!) and a souffle (note to self, use good cheese!) and those came out well.

Of course I have laughed at my dog. She is silly.

Learning oh so much. But really, that is a whole other post.

And I am trying to keep on loving. My family. My friends. Me.

"To live content with small means. To seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion. To be worthy not respectable, and wealthy not rich. To listen to stars and birds and babes and sages with an open heart. To study hard, think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions. Never hurry. In a word, to let the spiritual, the unbidden and the unconscious rise up through the common. This is my symphony." - William Henry Channing