We live in a world of contradictions. Take for instance the term Homemade Bread. Yes, it is made at home and yes, it is usually delicious. Curiously though, it often lacks many similarities to one’s initial image of Homemade Bread. Today, it seems that most people I know who make bread at home, do so with the aid of a breadmaking machine. Still very tasty, but it’s difficult for me to form magical memories of baking bread around the ol’ breadmaking machine.
I can remember when my gramma’ used to bake bread in the oven of a woodstove. My job was to be ready with the butter brush an’ make sure that I spread plenty of butter… real butter, not margarine, on the top of the loaf after it was removed from the oven. Then, of course, my job was to take that first delectable bite of hot buttered bread, smeared with honey, an’ give my opinion. I don’t ever recall giving a poor grade to my gramma’s fresh, homemade bread. In fact, I wouldn’t mind havin’ some of her homemade bread, right now.
Another curious contradiction in today’s world is stamps. Once when our oldest granddaughter, who at that time was three, was helping my good hubby-buddy in his office, she very clearly brought to our attention how things have changed since we were her age. My good hubby-buddy let her put the stamps onto each of the envelopes after he sealed them. Then, the three of us went for a drive to mail the letters. Sis wanted to hold the letters while she rode an’ that seemed like a reasonable request, so we let her.
My good hubby-buddy happened to glance into the rear-view mirror an’ saw our little grandie carefully removing the stamps that she had supposed were like alla’ her other stickers. Yup! It’s a changing world. Just when you think things are gonna’ get easier, someone shows you how wrong your perception might be.
‘Course, both these changes are good. Breadmaking Machines let us have homemade bread, without the drudgery of working over a hot stove, like my gramma’ hadda’ do. Especially in the summer, this is a true blessing. An’ who can deny the pleasure of mailing a letter without the aftertaste of licking a stamp? So what if an occasional stamp is mistaken for a child’s sticker? I guess there could be worse things in life; like havin’ to wait months for a horse an’ rider to deliver the mail, for instance. Besides, I enjoy using stickers on many of my own projects. Contradictions aside, progress is still a good thing.
Until the next time, keep a hug on.