Posted by Brenda Gorseth | Posted in Uncategorized | Posted on 14-10-2014
I read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad, No Good Day to my oldest son many years ago and yesterday got to live my version of it. It started in the wee hours of the morning when I felt a headache coming on and by 6 am, I can’t stand lying in the bed anymore-it pounds like a drum that won’t shut off. I took some meds to stave it off, but sure enough, the migraine comes to visit anyways and ruins a perfectly good day. And it WAS a beautiful day in North Dakota yesterday-sunny, warm, slight breeze-and where was I? Shades drawn, lights off and a cold compress on my head. However, for the first time, I had a baking order to fill and so I had to get in the lab and make some magic. Normally this order would be a piece of cake for me-two loaves of bread and a dozen buns. But trying to bake with a pounding headache is not for the weak and boy, was I weak. Nothing went my way; I burned the buns, started the smoke alarm (which by the way, with the head thing, was enough to drive me to drink at that moment) and ran out of eggs. No eggs means no second batch of buns. Let’s go back to the smoke alarm because while it wasn’t funny, it was…there I was, trying to get it to stop by waving a broom over it while the animals at the door started whining from the noise-which I had opened to let the smoke dissipate. Then the pan got stuck in the oven so I couldn’t get it out and ended up using tongs to pull the buns out one by one (there were twenty-four). I looked up every recipe I had for buns and they all called for at least one egg; while I love my customer, I was not driving to town with a migraine in the blinding sunshine to get an egg. I managed to eek out six from the two loaves and felt like the apostles when Jesus made the loaves and fishes feed the masses. To make me more frustrated, those twenty-four buns were works of art-I had weighed them each individually and carefully formed them. They had the promise of a beautiful bun, but let’s face it, pale on top and brown on the bottom only describes me when I’m out mowing in the summer with my white chest and tan legs, not a bun for sale. The bright spot of the day is now I don’t have to wonder if my smoke detector works…it does! The final touch on my day was in the evening when I made a delivery to Fessenden, twenty-three miles to the west, knowing I had to go back to Carrington, sixteen miles to the east of us, to pick up son from a meet. I told him in the morning to text when they got to Jamestown to give me an hour warning. Did he? No. Am I shocked? Not really. He’s a thirteen year old with bigger things to worry about like what game to buy on x box for Christmas. I texted him outside of Fessenden to see where they were at and he states they are about twenty minutes from Carrington. I’m no mathamagician (yes, I think I made that up, but don’t want to pull an Al Gore here) but I had twenty miles plus sixteen to get to Ctown…not going to happen. We got home, he finished his social studies project, and gave me a big hug good night. The day ended on a high note for certain.
This morning I feel back to normal again and wish I knew why I get those migraines; they completely erase twenty-four hours from your clock, as if the day never happened. In the winter or on a cold, windy day it wouldn’t be so bad, but when I have twelve million things to do outside (and inside) it makes life a little difficult. However, it is the promise of a good day and much to do-it is supposed to be in the upper 60s/ low 70s today. In OCTOBER. Life is good. I will leave you with a picture of a cupcake I made last week for a party. I look at the picture and smile…and hope whomever ate it enjoyed every last bite of it.