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Archive for June, 2015

Family is an ever changing organism; sometimes pleasing and other times the flow is not as we expected. For the most part we like to believe it will follow a certain pattern though we can not predict the design, we expect the blobs to be of certain size, see them rise and then fall to reform and rise again. Every once in a while however, the blobs look rigid and extend crooked, fragmented fingers reaching toward the top; other times the blob fragments into lots of little blobs that almost cloud the lamp with their hectic motion.

Difficult times in a family can present like that, things that are jarring enough we feel fragmented and we respond with hardened, jagged thinking and other times we can be so overwhelmed finding clarity is lost in the host of things that are happening.

Generally the patterns will return to a predicable movement, the flow changing the way we grow and change as life moves us forward.

To enjoy the beauty of the lava lamp we have to have it plugged in and turned on, if we don’t then we must ask ourselves the use of even having it, so plug in and turn on; engage with family and enjoy each moment and don’t worry about the randomness of it, enjoy the movement.

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A blustery sort of morning encouraged me to fill our home with the welcoming aroma of fresh baked bread and the warmth of the oven would help us feel just a bit more snug as the day wore on. How quickly dreams can take a turn and wash the romance out of our thoughts. I did bake bread, the last batch now baking in the oven but the dreamscape I had envisioned went askew along the way.

I baked bread because we were out of bread and I bake my own anyway, so nothing significant in that except that of late I had been buying bread because the weather has been hot and dry and I was using the oven as little as possible.  A poor excuse but an excuse none the less.  I measured out my ingredients, dumping them into my special bread bowl and was imagining the wafts of baking bread filling our home with aromatic love and warmth. I recently chose to cut down on refined sugars and have been using honey in my bread recipe but as the day was a bit chilly I thought perhaps I would warm the honey in the microwave first. Low on milk, there must always be enough milk for me to enjoy a cup of tea, I chose to use the powdered milk I have on hand for times just like these. A heaping scoop of dry, powdered milk in one hand and a full to be brim, extra warm to the touch cup full of sweetness in the other I began my few steps to the aforementioned bread bowl when BAM!!! Right where I was going to step was a full grown, Marmalade coloured cat, pouncing on an elusive and hard to catch bottle cap. I managed to step around the poor, dear, kitty, but threw off my equilibrium doing so and as I grabbed for the cupboards on either side of me to stop my fall, up, up, up went the warm honey and dry milk. Their descent was faster than I imagined honey could run and the milk cloud settled faster than a Texas sunset.

I did not fall. The cat did not get stepped on.  The bottle cap was immediately ignored.

I did manage to get my bread baked, I also managed to make a pan of cinnamon buns for tonight’s tea. That inviting aroma of freshly baked bread never happened as the smell of burnt sugar from the overflowing cinnamon bun pan smoldered on the bottom of the oven for the duration of my baking time and has filled the house with an odor that only a baker could understand.

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