Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: POUND (07/15/21)
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TITLE: A Weighty Matter | Previous Challenge Entry
By Sue Botte
07/21/21 -
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He hugs and kisses me on the cheek. “I must to talk to you.”
Ôh ô…statement; it must be something serious.
“Simon, I promised two cakes for tomorrow’s family gathering. One is done and I’ve already started on the second cake. Can we talk about it as soon as the cake is in the oven, please?”
“If you insist.” He pulls his mouth sideways as he concedes. I know he doesn’t like putting important things off, unlike Eileen’s husband for instance.
Simon is new to my family; we have been married for almost a year now. Through the years, I have heard about other families where strife is all that is going on, especially at family gatherings despite everybody’s good intentions, ‘this time’. Silently, as I stand in my farmhouse kitchen, once again I thank God for blessing me with the family I have. We all love, accept and respect each other, (Rom13:8) yet is different from one another as chalk and cheese.
“I sure would like your help with the second cake please, if you don’t mind.”
“In for a penny in for a pound.”
Whilst walking to the bathroom, Simon rolls up his shirtsleeves to scrub his hands.
I anxiously await the upcoming conversation; I ask him to pour us each a glass of wine.
With sips of wine in between, I take out the rest of the baking ingredients and utensils. The large white ceramic mixing bowl, the scale, measuring spoons, whisk and so forth; I switch the oven on at 350 ° F.
“Hand me the ingredient from the mill; the open packet. Thanks Hon.”
I weigh the amount needed and gently scooped it into the sieve that fits over the mixing bowl. That out of the way I grease the Bundt mould pan.
“Honey, the ingredient from Old Jim’s, please.”
I put the brick on the scale. The precise weight needed.
“Honey; the ingredient derived from the tall grass known as Saccharum.”
I weigh it, exactly a pound.
“Would you cream the butter and sugar, please Hon?” I smile, touching his flexing biceps, before adding a small quantity of flavouring liquid to the ingredients.
Nothing like spending time together in the kitchen.
I sip from the wine glass, my mind wandering to the anticipated conversation.
I walk to the dining room then back to the kitchen. What am I looking for…oh the basket Eileen brought over.
“Biscuit, what are you looking for?” (I love biscuits).
He called me by his pet name for me…all is ok. I relax somewhat.
“The basket Eileen brought over.”
“It is on top of the fridge.”
One by one, I break the eggs open in a separate small mixing bowl to check freshness before adding it to the batter. Once done, I gently mix in the flour, then, pour it into the mould.
I check the oven temperature: exactly right. I close the door and set the timer.
“I’ll see you in the lounge via the bathroom; washing my hands.”
I sit down on the couch.
“By the way, Phi, what are the names of the cakes you baked today?”
“Pound cake, both of them; the recipe dates back to the 1700’s.” My stomach in a knot or is it butterflies…? I ask: “What’s on your mind?”
“I have been offered full professorship in my field of research…hold your horses Biscuit...”
“How can I?” I interrupted him, congratulating him. I am bursting with pride!
“Phi, the position comes with a rather weighty decision to be made.”
He keeps quiet…watching me. Oh dear. I settle down. I turn to face him.
“I am listening.”
“Should I accept; we have to move.”
“Move. Where to?” I ask anxiously.
“Alaska; there will be occasional short visits to other countries as a guest lecturer or speaker on the subject. The offer came after my last thesis; the effect of climate change on trees, the speed of ice melting, combined with the cycle of ecology and the possibility of the rise in soil temperature etcetera.”
“Alaska…” The timer buzzed. Deep in thought, I walk to the kitchen.
I remove the cake from the oven. Alaska! With arms stretched out, I jumped in the air.
My heart pounding; I feel a sudden calmness and peacefulness enfolding me. Confirmation.
“Honey,” I say from the kitchen “first, let us hear what the Lord has to say.” (Pro 3:6)
A few months later we moved to Alaska.
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Clever and entertaining, well done.
Phi busying herself with baking yet there are glimpses of her thinking about the upcoming conversation.
The piece is well crafted.
I like the action of going to prayer before anything else.
The story flowed smoothly.
The conversations and actions were realistic.
Thank you