Flip It

I like to make pancakes. They were the first item that I learned how to fix on my own. I was 15 yrs old and a nanny to 3 young boys. One day their mom turned her head toward me as she was running out the door to work and told me to make some pancakes for the kids’ breakfast. She indicated that the mix was in the cabinet. My eyes widened and I whispered that I had never made pancakes before and she responded, “Sue, follow the directions on the box. It’s pancakes, for Crissake!” (My tales as a Mafia babysitter will have to wait for another time.)

Many years later, as mother to 4 young boys, I liked to look to that experience as a training exercise. Flour, baking powder and a few other frugal pantry staples allowed me to keep the ravenous hoards satisfied at least for a couple of hours. My pancake prowess was legendary at that time and I would make Mickey Mouse pancakes by pouring batter into 3 tangential circles: 1 large and 2 smaller. Years later, when my grown sons had hankerings for pancakes they would call to ask why mine always tasted better (vanilla extract and 3 tbs of sugar) and always looked perfect (ice cream scooper).

To this day when we had our pre-pandemic large family gatherings my pancakes were always a staple on the breakfast table. (First come, first served, no saving – they know the rules.) Warm, sweet, comforting and filling they hearken back to simpler times and a menu that never elicited whining and complaints. Everyone loved pancakes.

This is my first attempt at writing something since sheltering in place. I knew I should be chronicling life in lock down but the words just would not come. Maybe it was the desire. The desire just wasn’t there. Fear, frustration, fun, facts, fiction, fantasy were a constant broth simmering in my psyche. Physically I am OK. I started out making a new normal include walking 2 miles outside each day. That has waned into, “maybe if I feel like it.” I fully dressed each morning before embarking on working at home remotely but now I often start before 7 a.m. and am in pajamas and a robe. I was largely abstaining from alcohol fearful I would emerge not only fatter but maudlin. Now a glass or 2 of wine or a Cosmo some days are fine. I try to continue to work on my meditation practice which gives me peace, I garden and give love to my plants, I am grateful and appreciative of my circumstances and most blessed that I have not lost anyone to this plague. Finally, living on top of the mountain has it’s perks!

Don and I have considered these past 2 months a ‘trial retirement’. So far we can still stand each other so I would consider it successful. His self discipline astonishes as he maintains a regimen of exercise and activity that exhausts me when I just think about it. Add to that he is preparing 3 meals a day now all of which rival restaurant quality. He has actually lost weight while being exposed to Damian’s boredom binges of Ramen and entire boxes of peanut butter chocolate granola bars.

Emotionally, well . . let’s say there are good days and not as good days. I have a really hard time trying to understand the politicization of a pandemic and science doubters. I can only give energy to the things that are within my direct control and hope that I position myself to thrive and help those with whom I have direct contact to thrive as well. Travel blogging has long been a creative outlet but what do you write about when you can’t travel? Today, I made pancakes.

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