Did you know...when you mix rolled oats, sugar, melted butter, honey, and vanilla all together, stick it in a jellyroll pan and bake it at 350 for 30 mins, it will become caramelized, oaty goodness?
I didn't either. But it's true. You should try it sometime.
Got back from camp a few hours ago and needed to bake something. Desperately. I've been on this kick about not using pre-packaged foods wherever possible, and instead of popping open cans of pre-made high-sodium soup for a quick dinner, I try actually MAKING a quick dinner from scratch. Tonight I made (and ate) the creamiest scrambled eggs you ever tasted (farmer's market eggs, no less) with a side of Irish cornmeal griddle bread and an apple. Not fancy, but MAN it tasted good. Especially because the griddle bread was made with my cast iron skillet. Love me some cast iron. I also made some more butter with the heavy cream left in the fridge and used the buttermilk from the butter-making process in my griddle bread. I feel like I need to sew my own dresses, hitch up the wagon so I can head into town, and marry someone who will bring me some freshly killed game to cook. This is getting outlandish.
(I may or may not have been born in the wrong century. But I digress.)
I made popcorn
My breath was visible
You told me you were tired.
Tired of helping.
Tired of being.
Tired of it.
I wanted to tell you
In my visible voice
That we all get tired.
Please don't stop.
Kids need someone like you.
They need you.
But I handed him a bag of popcorn instead,
And replied in a poem.
Camp is a very, VERY important thing. Kids need camp. But they need the attention and love of adults they know and trust even more. If you work with kids, consider yourself deeply blessed. We all need mentors to look up to. Childhood ain't as easy as it ought to be.
I know it's a weird way to end this post. But it's on my heart tonight. So there.
(My poem is addressed to a youth worker whose name I don't know. So it's a mostly true story.)