Flowers. Baking. Dogs.

Flowers.

It was one bright, optimistic, spring April morning when I was walking home from my morning shift at a school I work in at around nine am, that the cheerful arches of blossom inspired me to walk home a slightly different route. Well, the route ahead I could see was that of a blossom lane, (not the official name) and the route not premeditated or anything, I just embraced the road ahead, a striking exhibit of nature’s proudest creations.

It was more than a really beautiful walk home, things in my life started to solidify.

On a personal level and a aspirational level, I started contemplating how flowers enrich our life as humans, children and adults. And how we are like flowers in lots of ways. Ofcourse, you know, news flash, it's not novelty that we are like the natural world in many ways, but the comparison I personally hadn’t thought of much before until as of late.

Things we have in common with flowers:

Well for one thing, we emerge, we grow and sometimes we flourish and sometimes we don’t. But there’s always potential, with abit of nurture and sunshine, to re emerge.

We need nurture and water and observation and accountability!

Mortality.

New life.

The circle of life!

Colouful.

Can be damaged and then flourish again.

Flourish differently in different seasons.

Need different treatment, depending on the flower.

Remembered fondly.

I felt especially grateful for what’s around us, enhancing all of our days, and the gratitude stayed with me until the gratitude inspired me to think of ideas.

And the initial pause of gratitude and awe at striking floral displays turned into considering how it could be therapeutic for children and for us too.

And the pause turned into consideration, and the consideration turned into research, and the research inspired me to incorporate the therapeutic teachings of flowers and wild life if i go into a therapeutic job with children, and this evolved into journaling about it when home, to listening to flower podcasts, to writing this blog, to a new found interest.

Appreciation is good enough for how it is, but a bright idea out of it is also wonderful.

I say this simply because it is always worth stopping to pause if we are met with something or someone that interests us.

To remind ourselves to delve into what we like.

To stop and appreciate.

Because it could take us to an extraordinary place.

And if it doesn’t, then at least we’ve stopped to smell the flowers today.

Baking.

Baking for me is the essence of being at home. It is the smell of home, the experience of being at home, and creating for others, a communal experience.

I’m not a technical baker, I often bake things that don’t work at all, but the point is… I love to bake!

I used to get incredibly disappointed when things didn’t work, but now i strangely find help in it. Just the other day: ‘‘Okay well these cherry scones turned out to be cherry cake biscuits but let’s see hmm let me think back to the steps...yep…definitely followed the recipe here…but let me see…I added more flour after mixing the ingredients all together which probably upset the integrity of the dough and even putting them in the oven I knew my dough was not doughy enough.’’ Rules of Dough’s and Doughnot’s. (Ouch.)

My mother is a great baker, even though she would protest with humility at that statement, and my father a great cook. My mum has brought magic to my siblings and my childhood’s with swedish brownie cakes, apple crumbles, big, rustic dark chocolate cookies, and ginger biscuits. (and so much more!)

I think you find memories within your favourite bakes. I think of my friends coming over from school, and being in the company of the smell of freshly baked brownies and a burst of pride hearing ‘‘your mum bakes the best cakes!’’.

I think of the small but bright sense of achievment, bringing a strange concoction of baked goods home from infant school. And the light envy of the other group in year one making chocolate bread, while yours was just a standard loaf. Gosh. Haven’t uncovered that wound in a while.

That small, bright achievment is the same all these years later too, baking in my own home with every random breakfast muffin or frosted cake.

But going home to where my parents are, the practice of baking feels deeply routed.

It’s only in recent years I started to follow other bakers too. I love the almost comical cookie cutter perfection of fantastical fanciness of Martha Stewart’s creations and I love to see what she’s made.

In terms of my own baking, that sort of glamour is not there but oh my goodness it’s so pleasing to watch beautiful creations and all these heavenly pastries sitting proudly, gleaming, awaiting anxiously for the ‘‘Oooo’s’’ and ‘‘Awww’s’’ and general compliments for one of her dinner parties.

In starting an online baking course, though, these ‘‘fancier’’ style of bakes, patisserie style, is becoming more of a reality as I learn more about the technical process and the equipment needed.

And I love learning about general trivia of the history of all of the ingredients!

I will never renounce the simple luxury of a homey bake.

Spark notes or cliff notes (whatever your style) list of why I also love baking:

Gift of thought. When you bake from love, it is like giving a little post it note to someone in bake form, an edible thought, that, you know, hey! You’re in my thoughts, you matter to me.

Feeling the ingredients, nurturing the process, creating something delicious out of ordinary ingredients.

Community. Teeny tiny and big ways.

The meditative element of it. Time to bake some head space.

The end product can look one way, maybe not perfect, but be wonderful, just wonderful!

Taste over looks.

^ SOOOO much worse when something looks grand, but something doesn’t work taste wise and the impression is quickly eroded by diassaopinted taste buds even if people are too polite to say anything! Their taste buds send a message to my brain saying, our host here is too polite to say anything, but, you know what to do next time…EASY ON THE LEMON!’’ Xx

I learnt this as a teen, after making a lavander cake with corn flour and I put dried lavander on the icing for decoration??

Bless her heart.

It makes me laugh thinking of the reaction.

(again, even disasterous bakes, there is a funny memory!)

And you know, just listening to some happy jazz on youtube usually followed by the day of the week (because Monday and Saturday morning jazz are different, just are! The piano and various other delightful instruments sends a different message.) Or listening to a podcast all add to feelings of transportation.

Like a story, baking feels like making your own story up and as corny as that sounds, i think that’s why the ordinary things like baking is extraordinary because you make your own little portrait out of it.

And to finish my love for my baking I will leave it to Randy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKJXOQYDO7I

Bake away, friend.

Dogs.

I am particularly partial to the golden retriever and Labrador.

Young playfluness, middle aged calm, elderly wisdom, the joy i feel when i see one from a far is untethered.

I imagine what there thoughts are and if they could talk what accent would they have? The accent of my labrador is a quesiton mark but I am sure a dog that lives close by has a french accent.

Even though they don’t talk, sometimes your dog can say everything you need to hear at that time or day by just tap dancing their paws from room to room.

Seeing my dog at the seaside, navigating through a sensory over load of sand, children, sticks, shells, and rapid waves…well there is nothing better.

Seeing human or dog experience true joy merely by what’s around them, reminds me to check in with my own gratitude too.

For everything there is that enriches us.

The oxytocin feeling of seeing dogs is something I am sure you are familiar with.

Need I say more.

Dogs are one of the greatest companions.