As the day dawned on Tuesday November 3rd, I awoke early enough to witness the orangy-pink hues of a glorious sunrise peeking from behind the now barren Maples at the back of the yard, and it occurred to me that I was most certainly blessed to be in the position I find myself. My 57th birthday was my first as a retired old fart and the plan was to point the Tacoma northward to spend it with my beloved wife and her mother, who also celebrates each year on November 3rd. How's that for Kismit? Not enough? Her brother - Joyce's Uncle Dick - was also born on November 3rd. And a host of Facebook friends too!
Now, I have to tell you, I'm not a huge birthday guy, and unless my own mother can correct me, I'm not sure I ever have been. Sure, I'd wager that things were pretty high strung in the Porter household when I was a wee lad, but I'm talking about the days that are still accessible in the dusty cobwebbed corners of my brain. Having said that, and absolutely no surprise to anyone who has known me for a while, I do really enjoy the traditional birthday treats. My personal ride on the the body shape rollercoaster is all the proof you need to confirm sweets as my Kryptonite.
This year, the love of my life set to work in the kitchen to create a unique celebration treat - FROM SCRATCH - called Monkey Bread, or at least the version we call Monkey Bread. To us, that means home made bread nuggets coated in cinnamon sugary goodness. When it's fresh out of the oven, with ooey gooey deliciousness tantalizing your entire olfactory system, and pulls apart leaving strings of yummy caramel strung from nugget to mound, it's food fit for the Gods. I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I consumed a significant portion of the creation myself.
Hey, I have to fuel up the muscles with glycogen in preparation for another epic ride!
It would come as no surprise that the Monkey Bread was made from scratch if you were talking about our daughter Maddison, what with her near legendary status as baker par excellence. That is not to say that Joyce is not talented, because she most definitely is, but she doesn't embrace the FROM SCRATCH idea with regularity. With retirement's attempts to eat a more health conscious diet, we haven't had very many "cheat days" but a birthday cries out to be an exception.
The drive to Haliburton was an uneventful one, arriving at the MIL's building PDQ. We had a lovely visit, I took charge of the Instapot pasta dish we had prepped for lunch, and the three of us enjoyed a wonderful meal capped off with Pearl's Angel Food Cake adorned with two blazing beacons of birthday joy. Between Pearl's 91 and my 57, the Fire Marshall would have taken exception if we attempted a true representation! The coup de grace to the day came with the emergence of one of the most incredible sunsets ever, as the sky was ablaze with fire-coloured hues of yellow+orange+pink, on the journey home.
Man, Life really is Good!
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