Whizbang Kid

What makes your week successful? Do you require a handful of major life-altering events to define it, or just seven wakeups without moans and groans?
 
It is really hard to define, isn’t it? And trust me, that definition dramatically changes over time. As a kid, it was a gold star for a job well done, or as an adolescent, a nod and a smile from that nerdy guy in English class.
 
Adults don’t have it quite that easy. A single downer can hinder even the best accomplishment in the world. We are a fickle breed with often nonsensical expectations.
 
In my world, however, tiny steps equate to huge victories. And I love that I can find satisfaction in the littlest of things.
 
For months, I have stared at a drooping shelf above my washer and dryer. Oh, it was sturdy enough, but how it looked was a pain in my a…rmpit. This week, I went on a mission. I have no idea what tipped the scales.
 
There wasn’t much on the shelf – my laundry detergent, some pesticide spray cans, a few old license plates (???), and in the back corner an old bread machine. And here is where it gets good.
 
Trying to figure out how my brain works is a futile exercise. I remembered putting the machine on this shelf because the kneading paddle was missing. I think my intent was to locate a new one when I found the time. That was 17 years ago. Go ahead, laugh. I did.
 
When I pulled it down? Well… look at that. The paddle was in the machine. How did that get there? And why did I virtually retire it in the first place?
 
Now, this bread machine comes from my California days. More specifically, from the mid-late 1980s. Do the math – it is ancient! What in the bloody hell is wrong with me? Why would I keep this thing?
 
It worked beautifully for years. I even had my own sourdough starter and made bread from scratch. Instantly, I could almost smell that bread…
 
So, I did what any quasi-normal person would do – I plugged it in. Son of a gun if it didn’t power up perfectly. I wonder…? They say that curiosity killed the cat, right? But I'm a brave superwoman.
 
I bought a bread mix and decided I had nothing to lose. Four hours later I had this perfect loaf of hot sourdough bread. It was freaking amazing!
 
Bread flour and yeast are now on my shopping list. Why use a mix when making it from scratch is easy and healthier? I now have a new weekly challenge to stimulate my dilapidating brain cells. Yeah, baby. Old people can rock too.
 
And oh, I am a whizbang kid with a power drill and a hammer too, so the shelf got fixed as well. What could I possibly do next week to beat this? Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
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