OK, yes, it's true, I will give Jesus the absolute credit, position, glory, and authority, He is the actual Master (big "M") of my universe, but you know, there are times when He lets me just do my thang, which if you know me you know I'm gonna do it. I'm from the South. Women of the South cook, and we bake. It's no big secret, just the true facts as they are, and when we get the hankerin' to cook or throw a pie together we just damn well do it. We don't need a reason, we don't need an excuse. If we aren't cooking for dinner we're usually thinking about baking for the next day, friends, relatives, ourselves, or just because someone out there will be coming over soon and we need to have something to offer them when they do. I'm sorry if you haven't experienced this sort of understanding and comprehensive reasoning in your own life; I can only imagine how sad you are now that you realize it's an everyday occurrence with those of us from the Southern region of the United States. We bake.
I'm laying there on my bed with the Pore's Company LED facemask on my face. I do use it just about every day. If you don't know what one is I'll put a photo of it at the bottom of this blog so you can see it. It's literally what it's called, an LED light facemask. It goes over your entire face and neck, and you can turn the various colored lamps on to use for various reasons. I use the red light for removing and reducing wrinkles. It works. You don't have to take my word for it, look at my face! So there I am, laying there with the mask on my face. I usually set the timer on it for 40 minutes and I listen to Mercy Me, Casting Crowns, Celtic Worship, WOW, or maybe I'll hit up Pandora and randomly shuffle all of the various genres of music that I like - - just to make the time I'm laying there petting the dog seem more eventful. Today I was laying there, petting the dog and thinking how good a big fat honking piece of banana nut bread would taste.
My friend Niki (Hi Niki) was saying just the other day on her Facebook page, that people don't really keep old bananas to make banana nut bread and that they get all gross and nasty sitting on the cabinet just attracting fruit flies. I wrote back all snarky like saying "Hell yes, I make banana nut bread", I just haven't had any bananas last that long on my cabinet since Laura or I may end up taking one to work for lunch. True story; I can't remember a time in the recent past when I had two good overripe bananas sitting on the kitchen cabinet. I almost didn't have them this time either, but I managed to beat Laura back out of my kitchen with the end of a broomstick. She was going for my nanner and I knew I was saving it for this very reason - - I just didn't know if it was gonna be today or tomorrow, it ended up being today. She was a hard sell. I had to pick up the bananas and physically move them to my closet out of her sight. She hasn't forgiven me yet, we'll see how she fares after she eats the bread.
I tell people all the time that if you want something you have to make it happen. You have to take the world by the balls and just chuck it in the direction you need it to go! In this case, I had to go to the store, buy the nanners, beat my daughter back a few times, hide said nanners, find them again, and bake the bread. I knew this was a few-day process. You can also speed up the process if you buy riper bananas and then you don't have to be so violent with your kid -- she could probably figure it out on her own when she sees that you brought home old produce! I do the same with avocadoes with my son, but he's no longer living with me - - I can't tell you how many times we had to eat stiff avocadoes rather than creamy smooth fruit because he can't possibly wait another day! At least with Laura, I have a fighting chance at a chance of fighting. With Reuben I just walk away - - he has the upper hand.
Be the master of your universe people. You want banana bread, you make it. You want to write a poem that will knock the socks off the reading world, you do it. You want to walk five miles to get the banana bread you just ate off your hips, you put on your shoes and head out that door! Don't let people stop you from being you. Don't let people get you down, because if you give them the chance they will try. You stand up for your right to eat the goodness you mix together. You bang your head on that wall, beat your fists into the table, cry out that war scream, and let the freaking world know just who's boss in this damn house!! (I mean, your neighbors may not understand, but do it anyway) Be the one who takes full control of each and every situation that happens in or around your kitchen! It is YOUR KITCHEN. Well, that's what I tell people anyway. They may not like it, but they do respect it - - I'm not above flipping tables and pulling out bullwhips if I need to. Eggs may fly, broomsticks may be twisted in the air. The roost will be claimed. I am Southern Momma! Hear me ROAR!
OK, that being said I got up from the bed, made the bread, and shared it with my little one. She was happy. I was happy. I wrote the blog, and now you're smiling. Goals.
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