I think that’s the key to stuff. It is hard though. Baking for example – I get everything going one after the other, doing all the prep work on the shorter items while I’m waiting for the longer items to prove. It means that everything is ready at once and things are queuing to get in the oven. I came to the conclusion that I need a bigger oven but really I just need to think about things and pace myself… never one of my strong points. I used to run the 1500m and one year made it through to the provincial run-offs. I still question the age of my competitors and realised before the off as I was elbowed to the back line that I’d have to do something special to win it. At the gun I set off at sprinting pace andwas healthily clear of the pack by the first turn. By the end of the lap I was an equal distance behind and at the bell the pack was half a lap ahead leaving me to race against the only other 9-year old who was not sporting a ‘might get served’ moustache. I remember wishing for rocket power and hoping my dad, who had taken the morning off work, had gone for a pee and couldn’t see me losing big time. So yes, pacing myself and knowing my limits have always been a problem for me.
Baking’s going well though. It might just be a Christmas rush or the novelty of the newbies but we’ve had an uber-busy week… if we continue with these sales I won’t need to don a suit and stick screwdrivers in laptops. We’re launching a website to help with ordering and show folks what’s available and I’ve booked some radio time on CBC to promote the booksale next week. Which brings me to a funny I heard last week – because I cook, have ridiculous hair and speak with a silly english accent some people have suspected that I might be Jamie Oliver in disguise… pukka.
I was driving home last night after delivering a loaf of bread that wasn’t quite out of the oven when the customer arrived to collect it – I looked out the window across the snowy fields painted a silvery blue by a bright, full moon and I thought ‘God I love this country’. Then I thought some more and realised that every place will have it’s beautiful and it’s ugly moments – it’s the people that make it special. They say Cape Breton is famous for it’s welcome but I’m still coming to terms with the welcome that we’ve had. Everyone is friendly and everyone wants to help. The boys have made some great friends,Laura’s social calendar is chokka and we’ve been inundated with gifts- you know, flowers, hampers, meat, toys and truckloads of wood- apart from the social engagements we don’t have to leave the farm for months! We are dreading the day this honeymoon period comes to a shuddering halt but for quite possibly the first time in my life I feel at home. To paraphrase a friend once you’re in Cape Breton you’re from Cape Breton, and that gives me a peaceful, settled feeling that makes nothing seem impossible.