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It is 4:10 pm,
Saturday May 12 and soon I need to start getting ready to head across several
towns and way out to the "West End" to celebrate a most valued
friend's birthday. So far today I have packed a lunch I did not intend to eat,
made salsa I only got a mere taste-test of, started a pâté fermentee for
tomorrow's bread (also to be enjoyed by others), shopped for two mother's day
cards (I only have one) and finally, started the two day process of making
"Rich Man's Brioche" for the mother I have and the mother-in-law I
don't.
Don't get me
wrong, I offered to do the making/cooking/baking/shopping for the mother's in
question because I get a sense of accomplishment from tackling difficult
recipes "from scratch" and having them turn out. I enjoy the process
of making bread products especially. Bread making is scientific, measurements
must be exact. You must pay attention to the texture of feel of the bread and
to its look, in order to produce a successful loaf. The windowpane is a moment
of excitement in my house. I can lose myself in the process and achieve the
same Zen like focus as I get when training karate; what is referred to as Mushin or mind of no
mind. So, I'm not trying to martyr myself here because, I have, to a
certain extent, enjoyed my day - though I could have done without the image of
plastic (at least I hope they were) antlers affixed to either side of a pickup
truck on my way home from the shops.
As I sit on my
kitchen floor typing (all counter/table space being occupied in various states
of proofing doughs), I wonder why it is that I have chosen, for I did
deliberately choose, to take on the responsibility of gift giving for a woman I
have only met thrice? and why that responsibility was so readily handed over to
me, as it is to many women in relationships. My brother would never think to
have his partner buy for our mother. He is acutely aware that he knows her
best. Granted my brother is a Mamma's Boy, though not on the grand scale that
others of my acquaintance are.
How did gift giving
somehow become a woman's biological imperative? Is the assumption that a woman
can know a relative stranger better because they share a gender? Because I know
for a fact that I won't be asking leaving the purchase of my dad's Father's Day
gift to my guy. Though I am now toying with the idea of requesting it just to
see the reaction I get.
Somehow I forgot
to mention in the first paragraph that my terrible ex's best friend is expected
at tonight's festivities. Perhaps that knowledge unconsciously directed me to
the activity that required my focus to the exclusion of other thoughts. I'm
sure we'll all have a lovely time, the way we have on so many occasions in the
past - wait, that can't be right......
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