It has been raining all day today. It should be snowing. If it were 5 degrees colder, it would be, and there would have been tons of snow all over the place. But it is 37 degrees out, and so it rained. I can’t say I’m disappointed that it didn’t snow. I do like the magical quality of snow, but I am tired and just want spring to arrive, with the dandelions and the green grass and all that is Spring. I was able to get home in a decent amount of time. And rain always puts me in a nostalgic, cuddly, homey kind of mood. And so I have decided to bake.

A couple of weeks ago I bought some blueberries, with the intention that I would promptly bake them into some wonderful cakey concoction that would make the house smell great, and provide me with a nice breakfast for a week. I have been a bit remiss in the baking department, and so they languish, in their clear plastic container, on the top shelf of my fridge. They sit there, mocking me every time I open the door to retrieve something to eat. I know, blueberries, you are going bad as I sit here not making you into something. And one day I will have to throw you out because you’re growing mold and I can’t eat you.

That day will not come, because tonight is the night you will be baked!

And so I will make a blueberry buckle. It’s a recipe I tried a long time ago from Martha Stewart. It’s basically a large coffee cake like thing, with blueberries folded in. And streusel topping. Anyone can make blueberry muffins, but you have to have some skill to make the buckle. I would make scones, but I still can’t recreate the scones I had in Ireland, and those were the most delicious blueberry scones I have ever eaten in my life. They were from Phoenix Park in Dublin. And if anyone has their recipe, I would be eternally grateful to have it. I wouldn’t even share it if you told me. They’re that good.

Anyway, I am making the buckle as I type this. Well, not really, but I wanted to type a little before I started baking, so my fingers didn’t get all floury and stuff. Okay, I’m going to bake now. Be back in a few minutes to write some more…

Now if only I could locate that recipe…this is the chaos that is my life…I want to do something, yet can’t find the recipe to do it…

Yes, I have found it. Now off to bake.

The buckle is in the oven. And when it’s finished in another 60 minutes, I will be eating a crumbly, blueberry mess. But it will be good.

I like using my hands as much as possible when I bake. It’s not as enjoyable if I don’t get my hands into the batter, and mix everything around. Tonight I made the streusel topping, and I got to use my hands to combine the butter and the flour and the cinnamon and brown sugar. It almost feels like sand when you’re combining ingredients, mixing it up, using your fingers to make clumps that you will then spread all over the top of the buckle. It’s therapeutic in a way.

I can smell the buckle slowly baking in the oven. I won’t keep you any longer, as it still has quite some time to cook. If you haven’t tried your hand at baking, I highly suggest it. It’s not as hard as it may look at the outset. You’re basically creating a batter, with stuff in it, and maybe topping it off with a bunch of good, cinnamony, buttery sugaryness. And after a set amount of time, you end up with this amazing thing that you can eat. It’s the best feeling, knowing that you can create something so delicious from very simple ingredients.

This is my love affair with cooking. My love affair with life is very similar. All the ingredients of my life blend together so smoothly, so nicely, that I often wonder how it is that I’ve created such a magnificent mixture. I still haven’t really figured it out. It’s as if everything that I’ve experienced was meant to be and goes so well with all the rest. And so it shall be for the rest of my life.

I just hope that at the end of everything, it will taste as good as this blueberry buckle.