I generally refer to myself as a writer rather than a cook or a baker. I love writing, I love cooking. I`m not a baker, I cannot even pretend to be a baker in any capacity, it`s not a hobby of mine and I usually avoid doing it.
And yet I`ve spent most of the weekend – and part of today – baking things instead of writing.
There was a good reason for this: my mother`s birthday. I already promised to help her bake a ton of stuff for the sort-of-high-tea she wanted to do, but then she broke her arm last week. Luckily my father jumped in but I still had to do a lot of baking.
There were a lot of leftovers too, which I worked into a Dutch classic today (at least, the Dutch wikipedia page tells me it`s Dutch – I have serious doubts about this). I`m really proud of how this has turned out, as I mess up baking all the time.
This past week has been an insane week for me. A lot has happened in my personal life that has really messed me up. I had massive health anxiety last night, and couldn`t sleep for hours. I`m behind on nanowrimo, I can barely keep up with other tasks I need to do, let alone blogging and videomaking. I`m trying, I`m working very hard at the moment, but it still feels like I`m failing constantly on every level.
So whenever something then does turn out right – like this bread pudding, easy and unimportant as it may sound – it means a lot to me. No matter how tiny, I`m so happy this turned out right.
You really do start counting the small things when nothing else seems to work out.