It’s 10 am Sunday. 5℃ outside, 9℃ in the greenhouse. It was 4.3℃ at 7:30 this morning. I can leave things uncovered at night. But it would be just my luck that the temperature would plunge if I did that. I will be patient and careful till April. It will be good exercise walking back and forth to the greenhouse now that my ski season is over. I will keep up with the routines to keep my head and heart healthy.
Sundays are for bacon, eggs and sourdough pancakes. For a moment I had thought today was Saturday but then I remembered our breakfast. Where would we be without these time reminders? And Saturdays used to be swim mornings and breakfast at A&W after once or twice a month. Saturdays used to be dusting chores when I was a child. I had to do some laundry, too. That was before we had a washing machine. I learned to use a washboard and to rub the cloth between my hands. My mother was preparing me for when she had to go to the hospital to have my little brother. Even though my grandmother came to stay during that time, I was expected to do the chores.
My mother prepped me well for life. I know how to keep house, mend and sew, pay bills and not live beyond my means. I never had to cook though. I guess I learned from observation and trial and error when out on my own. Her passion for us was education. She made sure we had time for homework and studies. She only had the opportunity of Grade 3 in China but she never stopped learning. I guess I got the bug from her. If something catches my interest, I’m off investigating and experimenting. That’s how I got into the sourdough. It was a year or two before the Covid-19. It started with just a bit of water and flour. Thank goodness for Google and the generosity of people who want to share their knowledge. The little bits of water and flour grew and tranformed into loaves and pancakes. It’s somewhat magical. You can learn anything if you have a mind to.