It's just me. Again.

That's usually how you know it's done ... when you can smell it. I mean REALLY smell every morsel wafting into the living room. Then it's ready to be pulled out of the oven with my big red mitt! Martha taught me that a cracked crown is the only way banana bread ever comes out of the oven ... a relief since I thought I was doing something terribly wrong. But alas ... everything was just right! I've enjoyed baking this past year. The 15 pounds around my waist will attest to my explorations in the kitchen. I should be able to use weight as a marketing tool. "If you want to know how well I bake just take a good look at me! These thighs weren't born over night!!" It's unfortunate, really. Baked goods are so wonderfully scrumptious and comforting and filling and ... well ... a delicious baked treat on the counter makes me feel like a successful wife and a good mom. My husband is happy, my daughter is happy ... and I'm completely satisfied that ...

Dogs. Three noisey dogs. Barking at everything that passes by ... cars, people, animals ... and stealing things from my property. They roam and follow and bark ... and look at my dear helpless little girl like she's their next chew toy. So I pulled some "Dog Whisperer" stunts on them. I give them the "I don't care who you are, I'll punt you across this lawn in a heart beat!" look. And I step closer to them when they step closer to me with an even more earnest "I wouldn't come closer if I were you" stance. And they leave us alone. When I'm in the yard, they don't step foot on our property. I throw a little party in my head every time they back down. :-) I love the Dog Whisperer ... good stuff!

Perspective is: Complaining about a cut from 15 minutes to a 10 minute break and later finding out someone dear to us has lost their job.