Shrove Tuesday

I am a teacher. Climbing the face of a wave, I was hoping to make it over before the thing slammed me to the rocks. I made it. By 3:00 I was floating in between sets, enjoying the open sea. All the children were swept off—music lessons and play dates. Suddenly it’s silent.

I hop into the car and head to Whole Foods for a cucumber roll spa moment then wander across the parking lot to Starbucks with my friend Lori for a short Latte. Sufficiently comforted, cup tucked into my right hand, remembering I’m a teacher in the middle of the workweek, I head with my friend back across the parking lot, tracing the last leg of our triangle. Inside Borders, the search is on for supplemental language arts materials. Experienced at dealing with chaos, we find just what we need on disheveled shelves and head back to the car.

On the way home I receive a call from Shirean who is on her way to a church potluck perplexed by the night’s menu, “I hate pancakes,” she confesses confirming what Lori and I had been wondering, actually what we hoped could not be possible… not yet, right? But it’s true, today is Shrove Tuesday.

I have an idea: Mid-week Sabbath is Pancake Tuesday.

I pull out just the right sized bowl from my stack of happy red bowls, pull my copy of The Perfect Recipe down from the shelf, grab some eggs, butter, flour, and buttermilk to whip up a batter. I warm up the griddle, fry up some bacon. Pleased with myself I begin playing with a countertop composition (desperate for a moment of creativity) to photograph, just when I allow myself to realize that I’m having fun standing high on a kitchen stool to get the tricky aerial shot, I realize the air around me is slightly tinted gray… FIRE ALARM!

My family enjoyed pancakes with lemon and sugar and few strips of perfectly cooked bacon in a slightly smoky kitchen. I had pulled the bacon from the pan but forgot to turn off the flame. I reassured them as we sat around the table, “I got my shot and I didn’t burn down the kitchen… happy Shrove Tuesday!”