I guess I am not spam.

I guess the big fellas on blogger decided I was not spam. That's good. I guess. Of course now I have two blogs instead of one. I guess that will just make me stretch my writing muscles.
Today I made homemade soft pretzels, the good kind (not Guy Fieri's kind).
 I kneaded the dough and twisted pretzels that I would then boil in baking soda water for three seconds and put on the baking sheet sprinkled with coarse salt on top and threw them in the oven.
As I opened the oven door, my cheeks turning rosy from the blast of heat, I began to think of all the baking I have done over the years.
Our house was always one where things were made from scratch (well practically barring the occasional cake mix). And what was more bizarre is I would get teased for all the odd things in my lunch box.
Pumpkin custard, for example, was one of my favorite fall time treats. So it did look a bit like baby poop, who cares! It tastes like the delicious filling of a pumpkin pie. But none of the kids would try it.
And maybe the homemade applesauce looked a bit like barf, but hey it was so delicious!!!!
What added to my torment of lunchtime scrutiny was not the constant teasing (I'm the youngest of four teasing is what I was raised with) no, it was when my mom commented to my teacher, expressing her exasperation with the teasing I encountered. Well my teacher was going to DO something about that. So in front of the class the next day she lectured us on not making fun of other people's lunches.
She then continued to say how when she was in school, her family was poor, and they had to eat ketchup and mayonaise sandwiches. Not every family can afford the fancy things that they put in kids' lunches these days.
I could have died. I buried my little eight-year-old chin into my white turtle neck shirt, agonizing over the idea that my classmates might know that it was me she was talking about. Not that my family was poor, but which would you rather have, oeros or homemade chocolate chip cookies?
And now grade school is done. Making homemade food is now "in" and I am standing in the kitchen twisting pretzels and inhaling the scent of fresh baked bread. Glad that I had these scents all through my childhood. Blessed that mom is a good cook. Hoping that I shall be one someday.