Yesterday was my birthday- (along with “Never Party with a Teddy Bear or Else You’ll Regret it Day”) so today I’m starting the next half century of my life and thinking of my role models. The first, that I have mentioned before, is my grandfather on my father’s side. He was probably one of the most kind people I have ever known, and I hope as I get older (get off my lawn!) I’ll be more like him.
One of the things I remember most was his love of baking (I guess I should figure out how to use an oven). He would visit and the house would fill with the wonderful smells of fresh baked bread. One summer my parents sent my brother and me out to visit him in Connecticut. We had been raised to be finicky eaters and when he asked us what we wanted for lunches we decided to say we loved his bread and just a few slices would be fine. His bread was great, but I think we were also afraid of what would be added to a sandwich if it had anything else. Since then I have grown to appreciate this strange stuff called “condiments” as a kid- ummm… not so much.
So as I finish off watching a season of the “Great British Baking Show” I think of him and how I need to figure out how to make “hermits” and really good bread, like Arnie used to make so Mackenzie,my god daughter, has a connection to the past. I promise now that I’m officially a curmudgeon I won’t wax nostalgically about the good old days all the time- but the least you can give me is a day to feel old.