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To Bake is to Dream, to Dream is to Bake

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My first attempt at Princess Cake, the traditional Swedish layer cake

Sitting in my office in downtown Vancouver, an Excel sheet open in front of me, I daydream: “A fluffy sponge cake. Three layers. Rosewater buttercream. Soak the cake in lemon syrup. Fresh rose petals to decorate. A sprinkle of gold powder on top of the cake to finish.”

For a few minutes, I escape the reality of my job as a researcher and enter a baking fantasy, one of my secret internal worlds. That world, that compartment of my personality, is as much part of me as my name, my hair colour, or the sound of my voice. «Cogito ergo sum», wrote Descartes, “I think, therefore I am.” I “bake, therefore I am.” Baking is synonymous with my name and my name is synonymous with baking. We are one.

Continue reading ➞ To Bake is to Dream, to Dream is to Bake

A 21st Century Mom of One Tries to Write

Categories Life, Other, Writing2 Comments on A 21st Century Mom of One Tries to Write

After she had vacuumed the carpet and gotten on her knees with a stain remover, spraying freely on the dark spots, the little cloth foaming with her scrubbing. 

After she had taken out the organics to the big bin in the garage, wiping the wet spot the paper “Bag to Earth” had left on the counter. 

After she had filled up the dishwasher, put the detergent in, and turn it on. 

After she had done the other dishes by hand, sprayed a bleach cleaner into the sink, and cleaned, dried, and put away a whole miscellanea of utensils and kitchen stuff.

Continue reading ➞ A 21st Century Mom of One Tries to Write

Secretly laughing in a bathroom stall

Categories Life, Other4 Comments on Secretly laughing in a bathroom stall

Crying in a bathroom stall. Who hasn’t done it? I have, so many times. In the darkest days, when I wished I was anywhere but sitting on my desk at work. Like the time I felt so sick from the stress I thought I was going to die. Like the days when getting out of bed took all my strength and will power, but I still made it to work, all dressed for success. Or the day when I got to the office, set the coffee pot, and felt the most profound, infinite hopelessness, that tears ran down my face as the coffeemaker purred and puffed quietly in the empty lunch room.

Continue reading ➞ Secretly laughing in a bathroom stall