I find baking and cooking as some sort of creative release. It gives me a purpose for the day that has no baring on anything I routinely do. This is by no means a new discovery or admission. I have been actively cooking and baking for my very own pleasure since I was 19 years old.
Back then I impressed quite a few people with my skills. In fact I have had a few people drop by wherever I was living at the time with bags of groceries hoping that I might cook them a meal with the ingredients that they have bought. This is part of the reason why I was encouraged to go to baking school by friends.
Now I find myself around holidays yearning to bake some sort of confection and then give it away. The smiles that light up people's faces is such a delight. I find that many people these days don't bake goodies. They either feign being "too busy" or that is is just to complicated.
Baking in general is not that complicated. Of course there are some desserts that are but you can start out simple enough. The other thing that stops people these days is the fear of doing it wrong. How on earth do you expect to learn anything if you don't make a mistake now and again. I have made some epic failures in my time in the kitchen. But I always dust myself off and try again.
Which brings me to today. I found myself pulling butter out of the refrigerator at nine this morning. It is two days before Valentine's and I just had to bake. I spent all day in the kitchen, putting the dough together, rolling it out, cutting it with a cookie cutter, baking the cookies, cooling the cookies and finally icing them in various shades. My hands are dyed reddish pink from my baking adventures (as you can see in the above picture). There is something inside of me that is very pleased with myself too.
Of course now I have no desire to step into the kitchen and make dinner. Good thing my husband can cook!