“The RoseBouquet”

If Mom had seen me yesterday she would have laughed. She was a very serious person and didn’t laugh often, but somehow I could hear and see her doing it.

You see, for many years Mom was too weak to do any housework, but she liked to stay at her chair at the table after meals to watch me work in the kitchen until she really had to lie down, (which she avoided doing in bed if at all possible).

If I said at breakfast, “Elsie phoned last night, and she and the kids are coming for the weekend. They’ll be here for supper tonight,” then Mom would immediately start talking about we HAVE to bake! Short-hand for she wanted her fresh air buns or kringle to offer the guests. Since she couldn’t do it, I’d have to. Meanwhile, I was casting my eye about and thinking, “I’ve got’a clean up this place! Look at that filthy floor!”

So I ended up mixing the dough and Mom supervised, making sure I used the right bowls, spoons, etc., and that I waited until the yeast had risen just right. I never did enjoy that work though, and soon was muttering about how the dough was sticking to me AGAIN. Odd thing, Mom’s fingers were like icicles, and the dough never stuck to her hands, while mine got all gooey. Mom did not like me to add too much extra flour though because she was afraid her buns would not be as light and fluffy, so she usually scolded when I added more flour.

Almost every time I vowed that in the future I was going to do very little baking, if any.

Well…, I’ve changed my tune. I baked quick breads for quite a while, and devised my own recipes for some super-duper high-fibre fruit and nut breads. But in recent months I’ve tried making some healthy brown buns because Dad hankered after some, and of course, I tasted, and have acquired a fondness for brown buns myself. This week I saw that we were down to 4 and then 2 buns by Monday supper. Yesterday morning I was determined to make another bun dough and started before breakfast while waiting for Dad.

By trial and error I’m still working at solving the sticky dough stage when I’m kneeding it, but the thought that I was making buns without anyone urging me to just got me thinking of Mom watching there and laughing in surprise. “What? You like baking buns now?”

Dad, incidentally, has been knitting himself socks. I took a couple of shots to show you, but with that mini-digital which has poor quality. Dad Knitting