Magic Biscuits

Never underestimate the power of home baking. 

Never. 

There is more power in a batch of biscuits that you can comprehend.

The handwritten recipes, handed down, dug up, shared, 

Are testament to their power. 

For baking makes memories solidify. 

From licking the bowl and beaters at your grandmother's side,

Or your first tentative efforts at making a cake for your dad for his birthday,

Or putting aside a bad relationship with the healing properties of butter, sugar, eggs and flour. 

We have known this for centuries. 

For baking is a simple act of devotion.

From the simple steps of melting, stirring, sifting and kneading. 

Each stroke of the spoon, each added ingredient,

Puts in a little more love. 

There's also the constant evaluating.

A little bit more whipping. Add more sugar. Take away some mixture. 

It's the constant, reevaluating to make things perfectly imperfect,

For there is no perfect in baking. Just good enough, with love. 

This love transfers from person to person, through the anticipation, and the eating. 

It is one of life's simple rituals. 

I made two batches of biscuits over the weekend. 

The first for Barney's Dad, who turned 80 last week. The biscuits were wrapped up in cellaphane and handed over, with a kiss on the cheek and instructions no to share them with the kids. He was under orderss to take a couple home with him to give to Edna - his wife. Edna and I have the occasional bake off. I still think I've improved her lemon slice with the substitution of Nice biscuts for Marie biscuits.

I did a bigger batch so a couple of these bad boys could be dropped into the downstairs neighbours and a couple went to the Soap Guy, because I know he loves them. 

They were appreciated (My downstairs neighbours love when I bake - they often get the spoils.)

The second batch was made on Sunday night for a friend. Something told me they'd be appreciated. 

I ran them over to her at lunchtime. Baking can't fix things, but it can add a bit of sunshine on a rainy day.

Looking at the process, the effort - on my end, it's nothing. A few dollars for some basic ingredients. 20 minutes to make up the batch, the worst of it being the creaming of the butter and sugar - oh, and the rolling the dough balls. Then about 15 minutes in the oven. Another ten minutes for the icing, all the while ensuring you don't put in too much almond essence in the mix. 

And an hour round trip to drop them off. 

In the scheme of things, on my end, it's next to no effort.

But there is a power in the kindness of baking.

It must never be forgotten. 

Today's Song: