Flour, yeast, sugar, cinnamon, . . .dental floss?

So after the fact, I can tell you that the sunny girl and I sure did enjoy our bread baking adventure with the Girl Scouts.  And I can also tell you that you don't need to offer me any tasty rolls or slices of delicious pumpernickel bread.  I'm good.

The fabulous Girl Scouts embarked on their bread baking saga as the culmination of a "Journey," which is what the Girl Scouts call a merit badge.  Except it's not really a merit badge because the requirements are different, and the way you prove you've met the requirement is different, and the Girl Scouts keep changing the requirements, and keep changing the name of the stinking thing (it used to be called an "Interest Project," for example), and I really wish the Girl Scouts would stop being so defensive about not being Boy Scouts and just call the thing a merit badge, for God's sake.

But whatever.

The task at hand was this: each girl needed to bake two loaves of quick bread (the sunny girl made pumpkin bread and banana bread) and a loaf of traditional yeast bread.  The breads would all be donated to community groups in the area.

We make quick breads all the time at our house, so the sunny girl cranked this part of her day out pretty quickly (heh!).  But while she has watched her dad make yeast bread, she had never done it before -- so when her bread started to rise, she was delighted -- and a little startled. (Here, the Bat Mitzvah girl and her mom are kneading dough for a yeast bread.)

Actually, most of these girls were new to the baking process (we are raising a generation of slice and bake aficionados . . .), so throughout the day the girls would check on their dough, and we would hear squeals of surprise as they saw how big it had gotten.

The only frustration -- and these girls handled it pretty gracefully -- was that the kitchen we were using was not made for nine girls and their mothers to be using it at the same time.  As you may know, bread baking requires counter space to mix and knead, and then space in a warm spot to let your dough rise, not to mention oven space.  The timing of all of this requires some precision as well -- it was sad for some girls when their lovely loaves rose, only to fall again before they were able to pop them in the oven.  One more lesson about the baking process.

 The girls figured out how to work in shifts, and had meal responsibilities as well as dish duty to contend with, too.  When we were finally all done with all of our loaves (we started at 10:00 in the morning, and the last loaves came out of the oven at 9:45 that night), one of the rockin' mommies remarked to me, "I will never eat another slice of bread without really appreciating how much freaking effort went into making it!"

And here is a swell story in pictures -- a microcosm of our day:  Victoria and Tia Sally had never baked yeast bread before, but they bravely chose to make cinnamon rolls.  Check it out!

I missed seeing them roll out their dough and spread it with butter, sugar, and cinnamon.  Then they rolled it up into a log.  At this point Victoria was a little confused.  "How are we going to get rolls out of this hunk of dough?"  Silly Victoria!  Haven't you ever walked by Cinnabon in the mall?

Their list of ingredients included dental floss, which made all of us say, "What the heck?"  But we all (including Victoria and Sally) had a delighted aha! moment when we watched Victoria slice through the dough with the floss (you can see her hands in the background of this picture).

It's so cool -- the dental floss really did make a nice clean slice.  My Contractor noted that the technique is just like garrotting someone.  She reads a lot of murder mysteries.

The rolls looked beautiful  as Sally put them near the stove to rise.

But holy cow!  They really, really rose!  Victoria and Sally decided to divide them into two trays.

Fresh out of the oven . . .

 
. . . and here they are packaged for some lucky senior citizen.  How cool is that?!

+++

This little rhyming book, Who Is Coming to Our House?, is a sweetly illustrated story of the animals' preparations for the guest who will soon arrive.  Mary and Joseph are on their way, and will soon need a place to sleep.  All the animals hurry to tidy their home for their special guests.

Gradu-palooza!

Well, so the tall boy graduated from high school last weekend, and as you can imagine I'm very proud and a little freaked out. People, the space-time continuum is pissing me off, because this child was born about a week and a half ago. I just pulled into the driveway from dropping him off at pre-school, y'all.

But it seems I am a little mixed up about the calendar, because the entire month of June has been arranged to make sure that I practice my "so long, it's been good to know ya."

First, the tall boy was kissed good-bye by the entire varsity lacrosse team. The coach talked a lot of blah-blah-blah about the tall boy's dedication and hard work. He didn't mention the part about that lung collapsing over and over again . . . .

Then, at the orchestra concert he and his stand partner -- the only seniors in the ensemble -- were praised and glorified. Ask me to tell you some time the tragic story of the stolen viola. I mean really! -- who steals a viola?!

tangent: The stand partner -- who was in pretty much every class with the tall boy this year -- has been a great friend. When the tall boy was in the hospital, she gave him the sweetest gift: a cute plush version of his lungs, with the anatomically correct surgery performed using her own formidable surgical skills.

Somewhere along the way he attended a lovely Boy Scout function . . . .

. . . .oh! Did I mention to you that he's an Eagle Scout?!?

And then this weekend was the big event -- held at an indoor arena, praising Jesus -- because it was pretty stinking hot out side.

The tall boy examined his diploma pretty carefully -- it almost looked as if he wasn't sure it was a legitimate document. Does he know something about his grades that we don't know?!?

Afterward he was stopped by various females (love this one: funny, smart, beautiful) who were collecting digits.

Then he found his buddy, who was as happy to see the tall boy's Coke as he was to see the tall boy.

tangent: Check out the girl in the background, who was sobbing -- overcome by either the emotion of the moving Commencement exercises, or by the just tragically overwhelming heat. Hard to tell.

And then the parties commenced:

It's very hard not to adore this collection of ragamuffin tall boys.

And this one!

My godson -- he and the tall boy have been photographed together literally since the day my boy was born. And since that day one has been the tall boy and the other -- not so much. They've been friends forever, and everyone comments on their "Mutt and Jeff" appearance. And can I say that they are so gracious and loving, because neither one of them thinks it is particularly amusing, but they always smile and chuckle . . . .

Well, on graduation night, the godson said, "can you please make it look like the tall boy and I are not both mutant freaks?" (I'm paraphrasing.) This is the photograph that resulted.

And so is this one.

brag, brag, Eagle Scout, brag, brag, brag

So as you might have surmised from the title of this post, the tall boy is now officially an Eagle Scout. His Eagle Court of Honor was this past weekend, and the puffed up chests and self-congratulatory pattings on the back have subsided to some extent -- if only because I sprained myself reaching around past my own shoulder blades.

It is true that I am just so proud of him that I could sing about it. It is also true that along the way it sometimes felt to me like I was Sisyphus -- pushing, pushing, pushing that rock up the hill.

I suspect that if we're talking Greek mythology, the tall boy would tell you that he felt like Prometheus - chained to a rock and doomed to have his entrails plucked at repeatedly by his mother vultures.

But now all is sunshine and bragging, and I will tell you that the tall boy really is all that and a slice of peach pie. So is his best pal, who joined Cub Scouts with him twelve years ago. They have been best of companions ever since, and and it was only right that the two of them celebrated the end of their journey together at a joint Eagle Court of Honor.

Can I just say that these two fabulous boys -- and their siblings -- are proof that we can rest easy: the world is going to be just fine.

Mazel Tov!

So the sunny girl and I went to a Bat Mitzvah this past weekend -- which was just about the coolest thing I've done this year. And I've done some pretty cool stuff!

There were just so many wonderful things about this day: I mean, really -- this collection of 13-year-old girls is so fabulous that I know you wish they were your god-daughters, babysitters, Girl Scouts, nieces . . . . There is not a dud in the bunch! This particular gaggle of girls are Girl Scout sisters, but there were also street sisters and B'nai Mitzvah sisters -- which I found out are girls who share the journey toward becoming a Bat Mitzvah -- a daughter of the commandments.

Basically there were just sisters everywhere -- which is weird because the Bat Mitzvah Girl is an only child. Just goes to show you . . . .

I have to tell you I almost passed out with joy when the rabbi asked anyone present at the Bat Mitzvah who had not encountered a Torah up close to come up onto the bima. People! Their gorgeous Torah was a work of art -- and the rabbi was so wonderful as she educated all the non-Jews about how a Torah is written (by hand; it takes a year); how it is constructed (sheaves of Kosher vellum are sewn together); and most moving of all -- the special significance of the Holocaust Torah that the Bat Mitzvah Girl would read her Torah Portion from. [This image is courtesy of SoundSource.com, and is not a Holocaust Torah.]

I beg you -- please read here about Holocaust Torahs.

Well -- even though it would be too inappropriate to take pictures during the actual Shabbat services, please believe me when I report that the Bat Mitzvah Girl was brilliant, and that her parents are so proud of her, and her friends are so impressed with her . . . .

. . . and oh have mercy! but this family knows how to throw a party! Check it out!

As we arrived at the reception we didn't know that we had washed ashore on Candy Beach! I sat at the Starburst table -- which was fabulous because I have been known to make myself sick on orange Starbursts. [Each table started out with a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine, but ask me how fast I swiped an extra bottle of red wine from a boring soda-drinking table!]

The rabbi told us that the Bat Mitzvah Girl should receive "one hundred blessings" on her special day, and this huge eagle? falcon? hawk? blessed her with his presence for the duration of the reception.

The flustered feathers at the left of this photo belong to a very cranky bluejay, who kept dive-bombing the raptor -- who really could not have cared less about the jay.

The Bat Mitzvah Girl lit thirteen candles which represented thirteen blessings in her life; she honored family, friends, teachers, mentors -- her blessings -- by asking them to help her light each candle.

And then we danced . . .

. . . and danced . . .

. . . and danced. Here's the sunny girl and her street sister.

tangent: When you see this girl, just say, "Hey, munchkin! Pull my finger!"

And I am just so lucky, because I got to hang with one of my favorite families -- in from out of town for the Big Day . . .

. . . and I got to hang with these beauty queens. You have not had real fun until you have camped with these swingin' Girl Scout moms. Sometimes we even take our girls along.

It was just a wonderful day! And here's what I learned to say:

Ba-ruch a-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ha-o-lam, she-cha-lak mei-chach-ma-to li-rei-av.

Blessed are You, HaShem, our G-d, King of the Universe, who has apportioned from His knowledge to those who revere Him.

-- a blessing to be said upon hearing an outstanding Torah scholar.

". . . and obey the Law of the Pack!"*

This past weekend it was all Scouts, all the time for my family. And can I just say that I love the Scouting program; I am seriously all about it. I was a Girl Scout myself for many years; I've been a Cub Scout Den Leader, Brownie troop leader, and Junior troop leader, a cookie mommy, a day camp slave volunteer, an Empress of Paperwork (my real title in the tall boy's troop -- I know because I gave it to myself).

But have mercy, but it does all seem to happen at once; it wears on a girl.

February is a big month in the scouting world (for both boys and girls) because of this man:

Lord Robert Baden-Powell,
universally called "B-P" by scouts

. . . and this woman:

Olave, Lady Baden-Powell
called the "Chief Guide" by Girl Guides and Girl Scouts;
called "that woman" by early Boy Scouts,
who were jealous of her influence over B-P

Girl Scouts and Girl Guides all over the world celebrate "Thinking Day" in February because Lady Baden-Powell's birthday was February 22. Thinking Day is a celebration of international friendship and understanding. Cub Scouts also celebrate the anniversary of Scouting in February with their "Blue and Gold Banquet," where "banquet" equals "pizza." This is because Lord Baden-Powell's birthday was also on February 22.

OK, so get this! Yes, Lord and Lady Baden-Powell shared a birthday -- exactly thirty-three years apart! Scandal! One can see why some early Boy Scouts were suspicious of Olave; "gold-digger" was one of the kinder things she was called. I was gossiping about these two to a fellow Boy Scout volunteer (the poor couple have been dead for decades . . . oh, well!) and he asked, "I wonder what kind of merit badge old B-P got for that maneuver?"

I'm thinking maybe Olave earned the badge, though . . . .

But reluctantly, I will put aside the ancient gossip to tell you that the sunny girl and I went to Thinking Day on Friday night, and really did have a swell time. She and her troop learned about Ecuador, and presided at a table where they served fried plantains to the daring eaters in the crowd.

I was completely mesmerized by this urchin's awesome hat. Don't you just need it?

These Girl Scouts rested after attending Carnivale in Brazil.

The older girls who organized the event frequently used the "sign's up" gesture in a vain attempt to quiet the chattering hordes. Futile. . . .

So then on Saturday we attended an Eagle Scout Court of Honor. At this ceremony a young man who has earned Boy Scouting's highest award is formally recognized. It's a big deal, people -- our Congressman attended!

Other Eagle Scouts help to honor the newest member of their exclusive group; here's the pink-hatted boy from the ski trip.

He cleans up pretty well, doesn't he?!

Here's a quizzical, not to say annoyed, gaze from the tall boy. This is to make up for the fact that unfortunately I don't have any pictures of the new Eagle Scout; the kid gave "remarks about his experience as a Scout" and I have never laughed harder in my life. He was hilarious, I'm telling you. He also created the tall boy's new motto: noting that the Boy Scout motto is "be prepared," the Eaglet commented, "As many of you know that has been a difficult motto for me to embrace. [Much guffawing and snorting from scouts who know this first-hand] I feel that my motto is 'be just prepared enough.'" It brought down the house.

*Let's see if Coleen will tell us why the title of this post made her spit her tea out.