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Hurry Up

Life has a way of speeding up. It’s 1958. How did that happen? My son is starting to stand so tall, he will be looking me in the eye soon. Daisy looks like a little lady. Don’t get me wrong; they are kids who play and get dirty and argue about the silliest stuff, but they walk upright and don’t look like my little babies anymore. I needed to adjust my usual habits and expectations. Babying Junior would result in embarrassment for him and I wanted him to get along with his pals as he grew. Daisy would probably always be my little baby girl in my heart but becoming a young lady would be fun to see also. I know when I went through my teenage years, I was sulky and moody sometimes but there were so many bigger issues with the war that my needs were buried. My mother struggled with doing part time work at the local plant and did not like having to do housework also. She was grumpy a lot but her life was not what she signed up for. She was glad when the men came home and took back the jobs.

Before college classes started back up, I wanted to do some baking and spoil my family. There wasn’t always time for fresh, hot cookies every afternoon when I had homework and reading to finish. Steve really appreciated when I made his mother’s recipes and her Moist Date Bread is easy to make. For breakfast, I toasted a piece for him in a buttered skillet and the heat brought out the sweetness of the dates. Chloe and I enjoyed some with coffee late one morning. Chloe was not familiar with date bread but the subtlety of the sweetness was very French. She still did not like how much sugar was in American recipes. I reminded her that she was free to decrease the amount of sugar in recipes, which she reassured me she was already doing.

Next week classes start. I was jumping into the deep end with my tutor in math, Edie. I was taking a class with my good friend, Mr. Snow. At the start of the semester, the number of classes and homework seem like such a challenge. The spring feels far away but I have already been in school for a year now. I was afraid to try and figure out how long I would be going to school to get a dozen classes finished. It seems so far away. It’s perplexing, the days seem to go on forever but the year had flown by. Even Mother Jones’ Date Bread was a part of time. After so many years, I was still making it and finding ways to enjoy it all over again. Maybe that overlap is natural. We’ll see.

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