Yesterday I received a mission. I could say a favor was asked, but let's not kid ourselves here. I wasn't asked, I was straight up TOLD. My aunt called from work. "Bug," she said. "Cinnamon rolls with pecans. I found you a recipe--make it happen." And that, as they say, was that. I got home from taking Mom to the train depot at twelve past midnight (12:12... I delight in numerical things like that. I think of them as little gifts), and I was up and baking by 8am. The result (minus one pan which flew out of the house in record time-- hey, I guess she DID request them) was this:
My usual recipe calls for a glaze, but I have to say--this drizzle is pretty. I even kind of like the crazier, swirlier lines and blobs better, which is totally against my better (OCD) judgement. They make the house smell beeeeautiful, and since I've been cleaning and organizing the storage room for the better part of the last two days (AAAA-CHOO!), the smell of baking bread and cinnamon is incredibly welcome. I won't try one of these, but I'm sure I'll hear reports from Peggy, Grandpa John and Mom!
So, there were two things that were fabulous today. I was awake and paying attention to the clock at 12:12, the cinnamon rolls made the whole house smell of Christmas, and I put this up on the refrigerator:
Makes your heart melt a little, doesn't it? I don't know if you can tell, but the redheaded stunner on the left--yeah, that's me. My adorable sidekick there is my cousin Morgann. The dogs... well, there are no fewer than a dozen dogs on this page both front and back. Which, of course, is precisely as many dogs would have if I'd brought home every stray I'd found. I wonder how she knew...
Anyway, this is the first piece of artwork that has ever been rewarded a place of importance on that fridge. Morgann and I have only met once, but we became buddies pretty fast. Really, that happens a lot with me and kids. I think it's because I like them, and they see me as a fun-size adult. Not intimidating, just little and full of wonder.
Also, just now, I've found out another thing that makes me so full of smiles I could nearly burst. Cassie knows the sound of a hand sliding into a box of Cheez-its, and it will call her from any room of the house. She's hooked. She'll do anything. Sit, stay, down, grovel, high-five--if it's for a Cheez-it, she's all in. Kind of like me, actually.