For some reason, I overslept this morning, which meant that Gary's and my liftoffs started simultaneously. So instead of eating my usual sensible breakfast of toast and a grapefruit, I splurged on blueberry pancakes topped with real butter, blueberry syrup and a dollop of whipped cream, with a side of bacon. In an hour or so, I'll go off to the aquatic center to see if I can wear some of it off.
Last night, his niece was complaining that her husband wants her to cook like me. I told her it took me years to learn how to cook, and I still only have a handful of stellar recipes. The rest of the time, ease is what I have in mind when I open the freezer, refrigerator or pantry doors.
It never pays to advertise cooking skills in a small town, or soon one is on demand for every bake sale. When I returned to Seymour some thirty years ago after living elsewhere, the ladies of the Methodist church asked me to make a Jello mold for some event. I told them I didn't know how to make Jello and got a reputation of being a novice in kitchen skills. I never let it be known that the reason I didn't know how to make Jello is that I didn't like it. I kept the reputation which has saved me hours of volunteer work.
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