Tweaking the Pancakes . . . . .

pancakes

 

 

I was in the mood for pancakes this morning and fortunately I had just bought a box of pancake mix last week.  I pulled it off the shelf and realized at once that I’d bought the wrong kind.  This was the simple version, the one with directions to just add water.

Oh no, I thought.  That would be ideal if I were a working mother with kids to feed and get off to school before I could also leave the house.  Drat.  But I am often disappointed in the sinple version of things.

Then it occurred to me that it would take no more than seconds to use milk instead of water, and to add a bit of oil and an egg.  I did, and the pancakes were good.

It set me to thinking of all the ways that parents, bosses, ministers and society have given me rules and instructions to keep me safe and to save me time.  Being kept after school uses up precious childhood freedom.  Going before a judge and spending time in prison can disrupt an entire life.  Being selfish, argumentative or disrespectful of the rights of others can certainly curtail time spent with family and friends in a happy social life.

Yet I think of all the times I have needed to adjust the rules as I grew stronger and as I learned by my own experience.  Never speak to strangers?  But now I must, and my experience has given me my own set of rules for that.  Never tell a lie?  But I will, to save another if it’s justified . . or to save one’s feelings (You look great!).  Never wear white after September?  Well, I’ve gone a step further.  Now that I’m old and with white hair, I never wear white.  Period.

I realize that society continues to create things that make our lives simpler, but that doesn’t always make life better in quality.  At times I feel the need to unsimplify and to return to doing things by the long version.  I bake a red chocolate cake from scratch.  I iron my sheets.  I drive to the store and shop there instead of in my easy chair.  And I still write letters, at times, even to people who use email.  Sometimes I enclose pictures.  Or money.  And always, in my own handwriting,

All my love . . or . . With much Aloha . .

Doris

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Kathy
    Jan 14, 2016 @ 08:17:16

    So true! Thank you!!

    Reply

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