Loving the Moment
I love snow. I love snow days.
I love my daughter.
Give me a snow day with my daughter, and I'll learn plenty because she is a great teacher. She is a sweet and gentle girl, and looking for ways to open doors for her to enjoy life, learn, and grow on a snowy January day is what I call heaven.
Arriving at heaven is a random process around here, though.
For example, last week while rummaging through a storage tub full of wrapping paper, I unearthed some Mardi Gras masks that are about a decade old but are beautiful. So we dismanted our Christmas wreath and reinvented it as a Mardi Gras wreath with our gold, purple, and green doodads and a hot glue gun.
If you've got a wreath, you've got a party. If you've got a party, you've got to gather your friends around. If you do that, you know you need food.
So we planned a Mardi Gras party. My daughter designed the invitations and picked some recipes she thought would work. We have been trying them out, and Della has been eating well. The other day, we tried out a recipe she didn't have the energy to implement, so she left me at the helm. Brave child! I am not a very good cook; I felt a bit lonely trying this recipe for her without her help. But I did, and she loved this Cajun potato salad. From there we have moved on to black-eyed pea salsa, Cajun spiced potato wedges, pineapple-banana smoothies, a king's cake, and French toast with some bread we baked the other day.
I grew up in the 70s and early 80s. My junior high hom ec. teacher taugh me that cooking is knowing how to measure out the Bisquick. For everthing, the Bisquick. Do it over a paper towel, and you can save any spillage of that precious powder for the next recipe.
I wonder what would have happened if that teacher had told me to cook for your child is to love your child. To give your heart.
Some dusty feather masks in the bottom of a storage tub stuck in the corner of my basement kickstarted a thought process in my daughter in me that has us living better and loving with even more heart. One thing leads to another; beauty unfolds. Cajun potato salad is out of this world. Now, is it possible to make a king's cake in the bread machine?