%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| PROMPT May 6th Write about a community service or volunteer experience you’ve had in your life that made an impact on you. "Okay girls has everyone washed their hands? Oh, and dried their hands. C'mon please use a towel, not your shirts." I take a deep breath and glance at the Girl Guides gathered around the kitchen island. I grin back at them and stifle an urge to join in their jostling. I'm a leader and as such I must set an example. "Who would like to crack an egg? In a bowl. This is an important first step in making a cake. Yep, egg guts can be slimy. That's okay. If the shell falls into the bowl, you can scoop the pieces out with a spoon. Don't worry about it, all of us have dropped eggs on the floor. Watch out, don't step in it. Egg guts are slippery, too. What are you doing with the salt, Rebecca 1? Huh, that's a smart idea. I've learned something new. Salt congeals the egg, nice." Eight giggly girls are eager to bake three cakes. This means there is the potential for triple the mess, but, hey, it's a process. One recipe is passed around and scrutinized. They form 'teams' and measure out their ingredients. Sugar scatters all around us, but sugar likes to do that. Some of it grits under our feet. Fine flour dust floats in swirls and coats every surface. Rebecca 2 decides that we should look like bakers and this means dotting each other's noses with a hint of flour whiteness. Most of the Guides agree shortening feels 'funny', yet one slathers a dab on her hands as if it was hand cream. Someone, could it have been Kaitlyn, dares her fellow bakers to taste baking soda. I laugh at the screwed up faces. Only girls can over-exaggerate a gagging reflex. Everyone wishes to stir their mucky mixes and not all of the batters remain together in their respective bowls. Stirring takes strength and finesse. The transfers to a cake pan proceed without too much fuss. Of course, not all of the wannabe cakes will be created equal. With careful planning, everyone has a sample to lick from the bowls and a few eschew spoons for fingers. Taking one last peek with noses pressed to the hot glass window of the oven, we turn our attentions to the clean-up. This occupies our minds until the cakes are edible. Oh, there is grumbling. Who likes to wash dishes? Soon, we are dampish and the growing puddle on the floor causes our sneakers to squeak and the girls to yep, giggle. Water sploshes. Elbows collide. Every available dish towel is pressed into service for drying duty. The cutlery drawer is only pulled all the way out from under the counter once, but that's all it takes to tip the contents onto the floor. At least everything was super clean afterwards. The oven timer shrills and eight Guides stampede to it almost ripping the door from its hinges. "Remember the oven mitts! Perhaps you should move all the soaking wet towels to make room for your cakes. Oh, did I not share with you the good news? You may eat one of those cakes this evening. The other two are for next week's Mother and daughter tea party. Won't your Moms be surprised?" |
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