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Cape May

Nothing Ever Happens On My Blog

Our bookshelves, ourselves

I have no confidence in my scrambled eggs. It is a sad truth. Also I am lazy and scrambling eggs seems like much too much work for breakfast. Other people in my house take the time to jazz up the eggs with veggies and cheese and bacon and sausage which makes the eggs worth eating. Other people will eat fried eggs. Not I. Scrambled or not all. Think it goes with my tendencies though that makes no sense since my brain is fried of late.

I have every confidence in my ability to beat eggs well for brownies or cookies or cakes. Except there was that one time I dropped my cell phone into the hot melted butter and chocolate as I was making brownies–think I realized I didn’t have enough eggs for the recipe at that moment and it was 9 at night and I picked up my phone to call a neighbor and there really is no way to explain how the phone wound up in the incomplete but damn hot brownie batter other than to say I am a clod. I fished out the phone, but it was burning hot and clearly not happy. But I had work to do. I called my neighbor from our landline and got on a bike to retrieve a few eggs. That the same person who had just dropped a phone into brownie batter rode a bike that didn’t fit her well one-handed in the dark with eggs in the other hand says a lot about me I don’t really need to say…or write at least. Of course, the eggs were beaten quite well that evening. And the cell phone was never heard from again. The brownies turned out just fine. Confidence is the wrong title for this post.