I set out to do some freezer meal cooking today. It’s always an adventure to embark on such a task around here, because I never really know what my family is going to like. For example… I made meatloaf for the first time ever a couple of months ago. I kind of hate meatloaf… a lot. Phil won’t touch meatloaf. But the kids loved it. So, of course, I made and froze a couple of meatloaves today… anything to get protein in them…
Then there’s quiche. I love quiche. No one else in this house shares the sentiment. In fact, it’s come to the point that if the kids are being particularly disobedient, all I have to say is, “You do (insert whatever it is I want them to do here), or I will make quiche for dinner!” The job is accomplished quickly and painlessly. I didn’t make quiche today. I really don’t need to eat a whole quiche by myself.
Other preferences really baffle me. My kids eat pasties like ravaging wolves (Before I go on; if you don’t know what a pasty is, please do not google it without the word “recipe” as well. I am totally not responsible for what you come up with if you don’t follow these directions)… but pot pies (which I make using virtually the same ingredients)… forget it. I didn’t make either today but plan to make a batch of pasties tomorrow.
But enough about my family’s food inclinations… Although this post (and this day) started with food, that’s not exactly where I ended up… rarely is…
I had the bread machine out for homemade pizza and breadsticks when it occurred to me that I hadn’t baked loaves of bread in a really long time (at least not the ones that don’t come in the freezer section at Kroger). So I dragged my long forgotten bread machine recipe book out and started mixing ingredients… for peanut butter bread… and cherry yogurt bread… and pizza bread… And I didn’t think about it too much, but once the smells started emanating from the oven, it took me back to another time and place…
A time where I had a little family of four who could never have devoured two loaves of bread in one meal… and a place where I baked about a zillion loaves in different flavors on more than one occasion as a fundraising effort…
And I kinda missed those days when the kids (all two of them) would run around the neverending circle of the downstairs of our house… when they would play at my feet in the kitchen… And I kinda missed the house… and I kinda missed my kitchen…
And I was thankful for the memories…
And thankful for a sense of smell, because I actually tie a lot of memories to the way things smell (that’s probably weird, I know)…
But really…
Who doesn’t love the smell of a newborn baby… or a bon fire… or homemade bread baking in the oven…
As an added bonus, I actually got to travel back to that time… just briefly… through a video that posted on facebook tonight. It was a nice, fitting ending to my day of memories…
Lisa
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