I am thankful for the little things

I love the rare long weekends we get here, not waking up to a jarring alarm, just doing whatever I want to when I want to is a rare luxury for me or probably for most people. This long weekend was no different.

Considering it was Thanksgiving, I had offered a friend to help him cook for his family, when another friend asked if I could help her too.  I have said this before, as I get older, it seems I have a harder time saying no, so of course I offered my culinary skills to both, hoping that I could pull this off.

I help my first friend and just when the food is ready and table set, I had to leave for my next assignment. I rush off to my next friend’s and help her with the last-minute stuff. As much as I complain about my dislike for holidays, it made me realize I may miss my family and friends who live on the other side of the world, however, I should be thankful for the wonderful friends I have who include me in celebrations and consider me part of their family.

Now that the food is consumed and none of us can move, it is time for me to head home and plan for the next day.

Friday starts with my usual baking for the farmers market, however, a few hours into it, I feel frustrated that everything I attempt to do is turning out to be a failure. I look around me and the messy kitchen with baking pans strewn around is not helping me. I am ready to call it quits.  But I realize I need to maybe step outside the house and get some fresh air.

Like I always do, I put on my running shoes and head out. Hoping that a few miles in the crisp cold air will clear my mind and help me focus. I go for miles, trying not to think about anything, my mind blank, just trying to focus on the running.

Back home, I head to the kitchen and try to take a new approach to everything that I was considering a disaster. The pistachio Eclairs were not turning out the way I wanted them to, the Panetonnes were not looking the way I wanted them to. I realized maybe it is my perfectionism, that is to blame and not really the Eclairs or the Panetonnes.

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Panetonnes

Panetonnes

I start once again, trying not to be obsessive about everything and hoping that maybe the result will be up to my expectations.

Despite my fear that nothing was perfect, my customers seem to think otherwise, which I suppose is another thing to be thankful for.

The long weekend is now over and it is back to the grind, but here I am sipping on my coffee, perched in my favorite chair at the coffee shop, watching the world go by as everyone enjoys this warm winter day of 73 degrees.

Instead of sitting here, I think its time I go put on those running shoes and pound the sidewalk again and try to enjoy the rest of this unusually warm day.

 

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About my random musings

I am originally from South East Asia and I moved to the US about 15 years ago to follow my heart. My heart has since been broken a few times, but I continue to be on journey of trying to mend it. I could talk about running, baking or writing in a small crowd, but put me in a room full of strangers and I will be the one standing in a corner people watching. When I am not writing or running, I would be in my kitchen, flour strewn all over the kitchen counters, music playing in the background and me just rolling and folding dough, excited about what my creation will turn out to be. Besides that I love passionately, when I love, I give it my all, not always a good thing, but that is who I am. I jump both feet in and sometimes I come out with regrets but having learnt a lesson. I believe everything happens for a reason and this is my place to share bits and pieces of my life, my adventures and sometimes misadventures. Hope you enjoy reading my stories as much I enjoy sharing them with you.
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