Sometimes I think they come to watch me as they perch high on branches gazing below chattering feverishly to one another in chirps and tweets flying back and forth just above me gliding to a closer tree to get a better look at the human sitting on the patio pecking away with her fingers. © Cathy L. Mere, 2015 It's Poetry Friday! Stop by Random Noodling where Diane hosts today's parade of wondrous words.
Showing posts from May, 2015
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I've never considered myself a baker. It's just not my thing. Baking takes time --- and patience. I'm not really someone who has either of these things --- at least not in the kitchen. I'd much rather cook than bake. In office potlucks I hope to be assigned sides instead of dessert. At family gatherings, I cross my fingers someone will ask for cheese potatoes or broccoli casserole. I'd rather cook the entire meal than be asked to bring dessert. My sister-in-law is a baker. She makes glorious cakes that nearly reach the sky. She makes cookies that are never too brown and always the right height. I have baker friends who inspire me with their tales of cheesecakes, pies, and biscotti. Despite all of the experts in my life, I've limited my baking to chocolate chip cookies and cake mix boxes. Recently things have changed. Maybe it's the fact that I have more time on my hands. Maybe I've just decided I don't care how it turns out, I'