wordy wednesday: because if I had had a camera, it would have been a great picture.

My poor mother set about to make a cake yesterday--a lemon Starbucks loaf, but in a bunt pan, doubled, so that it would turn out big and fat. She even went to the store to buy the lemons which turned out to be complicated and horrendous because of the person in front of her purposing to pay in pennies, thereby freaking out the poor checkout lady who didn't recover well and put all the lemons in between the bags and not in them. I feel like that's a story she oughta tell on her blog [dont you think she should blog every day?!] but when she came home it turned out we didn't have nearly anything else. No real vanilla. No unsalted butter. No space in the kitchen because Matt, in some kind of fit, was roasting himself a consolation turkey from having had his Harvest Dinner turkey baked for him by someone helpful and lovely and inspired by the Spirit who knew he shouldn't be cooking a turkey because he was supposed to be working on a talk. None of this I knew. I, thoughtfully, thawed what eventually felt like ten pounds of "ground beef" from Aldi (sorry to all you horse lovers out there but we're going to eat it whatever it turns out to be, stop judging me) and cooked it expecting to need to provide dinner for the family, stupid providing mother that I am. By 6 o'clock the kitchen was full to the brim of cake, turkey, unadorned ground beef and bread dough, me with a headache, Matt covered in turkey and muttering to himself, my mother wrangling with Marigold who took it upon herself to fill fifteen or so cups of water for super, plus ice, and a whole pile of children who needed to run around but had to do it in the basement because of the cold and who supplemented their running with banging on the center metal pole with some kind of stick.