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 |   Blog Challenge And Other Tidbits |
| An opinion or two...or three or four... |
PROMPT July 19th Besides writing, tell us about a hobby you have. How did you discover it? How long have you been doing it? Collin was poring through one of the few books he owned. Hard to believe Collin actually had a book, but the few he had he cherished. And the book open on his table was a cookbook of all things! Who knew Collin could cook? But of course he could cook, how else would he eat? Anyway, Collin sat poring through the pages of his one and only cookbook. He was searching for that one recipe that his mum used to make. Sweet bread baked into a lovely brown loaf, and then served with creamy sweet butter and jam on the top. Collin turned the pages as fast as he could and finally, finally found the page that he sought. He tapped his chin with one hairy finger as he scanned the list of ingredients. Flour, yeast, lard, cream, egg, sugar, salt. Yes, he had them all. Of course he wasn't quite sure exactly how old they were, but he had them all the same. And all of a sudden, with a twinkle in his eye, he raced to the kitchen to pull out all the bits and pieces and stuff he would need to make his mum's bread. Bowls, pans, a whisk and a spoon. A board for kneading and a match to light the oven. Yes, Collin was excited to make bread that day. The oven was lit, and the dough ready to knead. He worked at the dough, just like his mum worked at the dough. He rotated the dough, then pushed with his palm, and rotated the dough and pushed with his palm. My oh my, Collin worked hard. And as his gnarly little fingers rotated and pushed he realized that after 400 years the knobby little joints of his gnarly little fingers actually hurt. Arthritis he thought. But so soon? Creatures like Collin tended to last at least 600 years before arthritis set in. That thought bothered Collin just a tad, but he couldn't think of that just now. He had kneading to do and rising to start. So as the dough rose, Collin sat in his chair, rubbing and rubbing the sore knuckles that were now swollen and red. Ah, poor Collin. What was he to do? He had to knead once more before the dough went into the oven to bake. He thought and he thought. And then he thought some more. Yes! He knew exactly what to do! He raced to his cupboard and dug into the mess until, at last, he found just the thing. The Kitchenaid! Of course that was it! He could use the Kitchenaid for kneading his dough! But his mum always said the Kitchenaid was the lazy way out. No one should knead dough with a machine. There was no love and therefore no taste. No siree, stay away from the Kitchenaid because bread wouldn't be bread. Collin thought about that. Lazy? Of course not! Love and taste? Well, that had never been proved. Bread not bread? Well, that was left to be seen. Besides, how would Collin's mum know what he did. He thought about that too. He rubbed his sore hands and decided to heck with the love. He'd use the machine if only to save his poor hands. And that's what Collin did. As the Kitchenaid whirred he rubbed his sore knuckles. But for Collin it was worth it. The bread came out fine. He lathered on butter and piled on jam. And tasting one luscious bite, Collin was pleased. He closed his eyes and savored his bread. He wasn't lazy. No siree. Instead he was resourceful and that was a feat. Collin had his bread...and he had his knuckles too. Collin just smiled as he lathered more butter and piled more jam. |
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