I get the coffee brewing. The smell of coffee gets my senses going. Then I start pulling ingredients.
I already know what I'm going to bake. I've been thinking about it and smelling the sweet smells of cake in my head all night.
I gently sift the flour, baking powder, salt, and the other dry ingredients. Butter and sugar are creamed together in my mixer. I gently toss the blueberries in flour. The cinnamon and sugar mix is gently stirred while the oven is preheating.
I quietly mix everything together. I don't want to wake everyone up.
The pan is greased. The batter is gently folded in. And in the oven it goes.
I sit down with my coffee and enjoy the taste of freshly ground beans as I sit in the dark in our living room.The sun is starting to glow. I love morning.
The house is so quiet. I can hear birds chirping, and the wind gently blowing.
The smell of cinnamon and butter starts permeating the air. I just sit and enjoy the silence.
The sweet smell of cake has made its way upstairs. I hear little footsteps in the hall above. Then the sound of stairs creaking and feet skipping down the stairs.
"Hi mom! Something smells good. Is it Blueberry Boy Bait?" she asks as she climbs into my lap with her favorite blankie. Her legs curl up on the chair and her head rests on my arm. Her hair smells sweet and flowery like a rose.
"Yep. Smells good doesn't it?" I say, happy that she still likes to snuggle even though she's nine and getting more and more mature every day. She's still my little monkey.
"I love you, mommy." she whispers.
"I love you too, peanut." I whisper back and give her a gentle squeeze.
We sit for a while in the dark quietly chatting about nothing until the timer goes off. Then we're off to the kitchen.
Lights are turned on. The dogs run downstairs with a thundering roar. The hubby gets up. Cartoons start playing on the tv. The fridge is opened and closed. Cabinets slam. Email is checked. The phone starts ringing.....
Ahhhhhh. Here we go.
Click here for the Blueberry Boy Bait recipe.
**This post was inspired by The Red Dress Club. Imagine you are meeting someone for the first time. You want to tell them about you. But instead of telling them a laundry list of things you show them a scene from your life that best illustrates your true self. Click here if you would like to learn more about TRDC.