I haven’t decided if life is worth living without fresh homebaked goods on a regular basis. An unexpected visit tomorrow from my faraway son puts me in the mood to bake. (Not to diminish my delight that the boy is able to sneak home for a long weekend, but seeing the sun rise in the east every morning puts me in the mood to bake.) The weird thing is that the boy and his Dad and sister don’t want me to bake. It’s not that my baking is awful. It’s that they have sworn off  bread and baked items these days. You know–eat fruits, veggies and lots of lean protein. I’m trying to go along with this just for ease of meal production and family togetherness, but not being able to bake to acknowledge a homecoming will be quite the test.  I learned as a child that made from scratch brownies and Toll House Squares are universal symbols of welcome, and I have long stood by my chocolate chip cookie and fresh fruit diet. I just haven’t gotten around to writing the book with the photo of me and my hubby flexing our muscles on the back cover that would give such a diet legitimacy for the five minutes it would need to become the latest fad. 

This past week my sister asked if she could borrow 2 squares of unsweetened chocolate and I had to tell her–truthfully even–that I didn’t have any. So not like me.  Years ago I considered letting my young children taste melted unsweetened chocolate just so they would associate brownies with an awful taste, thereby leaving more brownies for me. I don’t think I actually followed through with that, but my memory is a little fuzzy. Here’s hoping theirs is, too.

This week I wanted to bake so badly that I seriously considered baking cookies to hand out to homeless people.   I just want to lick the spoon, I swear.

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