Cinnamon Buns

Isn’t there a really an important parable to be drawn from this modest creation, yet it is one of the heights of human achievement. And the raisins, oh the raisins! Let’s have some fun!

Back where we spend most of our time, when I go out shopping for bake-stuff, my buns are usually square, and if they are the type I like, they a goopy with cinnamony syrup. I don’t often indulge because these sorts of things are a no-no for a diabetic. I know I am taking my good times at this end and will pay for all my transgressions at the farther end.

But now I am in a different place. Every Saturday there is a pop-up food fair. One of the things on offer are a variety bake goods created by this Central European man who used to own a bakery, and now only dabbles. Among his offerings are a cinnamon bun, featuring powdered sugar and raisins, raisins, raisins. They are light as a feather when eaten that very day, and mostly, they are. But some days valor overcomes discretion, and there are buns to be left overnight. The saving grace on these rather solid delectable the next day are raisins, raisins, raisins. They vanish like all good things, too soon, too soon!

We are beset in our world with oh so many occasions that can set us all aweeping, gnashing our teeth, asking of the heavens, why, why why? We all know that! There have to be things in our lives that will rally our spirits. I am, too often, quick with curmudgeonly accounts to assail your bright spirits. Yes, I know I am among those who make you cry out, “Oh no, not him again!” “What a wet blanket!” Sad but true.

Why can’t I talk about smiling children happily playing at their games? Lovers walking by the seaside? Why not talk about bees buzzing about the multi-colored flowers blooming in our neighborhood, planted by our selfless volunteers? Childress digging in the sand at water’s edge, happily mucky, isn’t that joyful? Pet dogs and masters taking their promenade, each of those stalwarts with little green bags for scooping poop! Those sentinels of good order astride these enormous creatures cantering slowly down our streets, clip-clop, make me feel all’s right with the world. And sun, sun, sun, instead of the rain. Rain, rain, rain, and grey, grey, grey, drove me off to southern climes.

So, it is only right that we put aside the tasks that confront us to put our world right and concentrate on something sweet, even if it may not be all that good for us in the long run. In the long run we are all dead, and today we are alive to pleasure our good times with our cinnamon buns. Did I tell you about the hamburger I had for lunch, topped with cheese, tomato, avocado, and bacon with lettuce, on a toasted sesame bun, French fries on the side? Well I just did! My companions were sure I could not get all that into my tiny mouth, but I did. Teeth are not primarily for gnashing! Diet be damned!

On a more sober note, it has mostly been water, a soft drink or two, a rare beer and no tequila. One must keep hydrated in the climate wherein we have chosen to while away our idle hours. With no internet for another two or three weeks, we are relishing the joys of reading some of those books we promised ourselves we would read from cover to cover. Without television, the world crises we were keeping on top of, (those people can’t be trusted to get things right without our close attention,) seem to have abated in seriousness. With plans to spend much more time at the beach and actually in the water, I think we are beginning to work our priorities into just about the right balance.

Yes, and then there is exercise. My intention was to be up there on the roof top every morning maintaining the top shape I have achieved over the last years without vacations. Well, first the rooftop has to be put back in proper shape. And it has to be cleaned of the droppings of our overhanging mango tree branches each day. I bought a broom and scoop. The area has to be swept every morning. Some  trimming has to be done to the trees and the physical layout in preparation for group parties we hope will ensue later in the season. I have to put up the Hummingbird feeder and install replacement bulbs for those that have burned out. I have managed to smoke a cigar or two up there, but so far, after a week, no exercise sessions.

Did I mention that I occasionally smoke hand-rolled cigars of a manufacture peculiar to the location where we are? What a job it was to find a supplier. Of course, no inhaling!

Yes, there is no question we are getting our priorities right on this vacation.