Cooking vs Baking by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Konnie called me the other day, which kind of caught me off guard, because I wasn’t expecting to hear from her. Yes, we do talk frequently, but not daily, and we talked just the day before.

I asked her what was up. Again, we had just talked for nearly an hour the day before. And let me remind you that Konnie is busier than I am.

Konnie asked me for a recipe she knew I would have. Uh, yeah, I do. Not written down, but my memory is still good.

The thing is that at one point, she said she tried to look up the recipe online, but couldn’t find anything close. She was a bit shocked when I informed her, “Of course, it’s not online; I made it up.”
So let’s make this quite clear. When we were ten, I was in the kitchen trying to see if I could make something like the soup our grandmother frequently served us, despite not having all the ingredients or knowing for sure what all of those ingredients were.

Well, I gathered what I had, what I could work with, and tried. I do remember at one point thinking the water I was using should be brown, and eventually landed on adding bouillon cubes. At the end, I still felt it needed more flavor, so I grabbed the first tin of spice I could reach and dumped some of that in.

When I tasted the results, I thought it was rather good and shared it with my siblings.

All this time, Konnie thought I had made it from a recipe grandma taught me, when in reality, I was trying to copy her from memory, with fewer ingredients, and not a complete knowledge of what she used.

The thing is, I never realized that she didn’t know I made that recipe up!

I thought that was common knowledge; after all, I was in that kitchen that day alone.

And it isn’t like Konnie doesn’t know I’ve made up another recipe.

Of course, in that instance, she watched me working on and perfecting it and tasted all the attempts until I got it right. She knew I made that one up.

So, the record is that I have made up two recipes. One soup recipe and one cake recipe. She called me about the soup recipe.

And no, I do not fool around in the kitchen that much anymore.

I can still just throw stuff together, except when it comes to baking, but I don’t do it as often as I used to.

One of the other things I came up with was frying up diced meat (as a teen I used hotdogs), adding diced precooked potatoes (as a teen I used left over baked potatoes peeled and diced), some diced onions, and when that was all nice and browned, I stirred in a couple of eggs.

These days, I use sausage or bacon, frozen O’Brien Hash browns, and a few onions, green and sweet peppers, and (if I have it) green onions, along with the salt and pepper. And if I’m feeling bold, or have a tall glass of milk, I stir in a little red pepper flakes.

I might also add that for me, the onions and peppers were pre-diced and frozen; I just use what I need and put the rest back, same with the hashbrowns.

Quick and simple, and no prep in the morning. All my prep could have been weeks in advance. So, it’s simple.

I keep telling myself I probably could also make my hashbrowns using baked and cooled potatoes and freeze them just like I do with the onions and peppers.

The thing is, I’m not a chef. Any dish I make can be easily memorized and adapted to what’s available, except for that cake recipe.

Baking is a lot harder than cooking. In fact, I once watched a Rachel Raye show where she said she could cook but couldn’t bake, and she didn’t know why.

It took me a few days to think about that one, because, well, my husband could cook but not bake. But I eventually figured it out.

With cooking, you can guess amounts and just throw things together that should complement each other.

You can’t just throw things together in baking; you have to be precise, or the results are going to be awful.

So, cooking is art; baking is chemistry.

Plain and simple. But it also means cooks like Rachel Raye are not as good as chefs like Gordon Ramsey, who can cook and bake. Just remember, it takes two different skill sets, even if both result in something edible (when done right).

Anyway, happy writing, everyone.

Of Internet Access and Generating Ideas by Konnie Enos

Last night I had just remembered that I still had not gotten my post ready when I found out that I had no internet access. Now, to simply write something, I do not need the internet, but I often find myself looking up something. Sometimes to clarify a tidbit of information, other times to get some inspiration on what to write. Though I think the resource I use most often when I am trying to write is Dictionary.com (Thesaurus.com) because I know the word I want but cannot possibly get close enough to the correct spelling for spellchecker to provide me with the correct one.

Since I was still debating what to write about today, some inspiration was necessary. Bearing this in mind, I attempted to see if I could get restore my connection, though I did not restart my computer. I thought my normal steps in these situations would be sufficient.

It was not. So, backup plan, hope my son was awake and could figure it out.

I was in luck. He responded quickly to a simple text and came to my room to figure it out. His first step was to see of there was an outage.

Sigh.

No outage. Scheduled maintenance.

I looked at the time, which was frankly, the middle of the night. So, getting some sleep was something I should consider doing. But deciding whether to do that or not required understanding how long the internet would be down. I asked my son when they said it would be back up.

The answer was morning.

I decided to sleep on it.

So go to bed, which obviously wasn’t just lay down and turn out the lights.

I had to shut down my laptop and put it away, and then clear other paraphernalia from my bed. All tech related stuff, like my phone and tablet, which I’d used to see if they could connect to the internet, and my headphones and lap table. ‘

Then I did get myself comfortable in bed and turn out my light. I don’t even remember if I went to the bathroom first, which in hindsight was not wise. I ended up getting up a few hours later to do that.

Now for this morning.

When my alarm went off, I was still to tired to consider getting up. Let alone that I wasn’t prepared to write anything. I also wasn’t sure if the internet was back up, and I would definitely need it because I couldn’t post without it.

I only got up when I noticed two things.

My husband was already up, and presumably on the internet, and the sun was obviously rising.

So, I pulled out my laptop and opened it. And yes, the first thing I checked was if I had a connection.

I was in the mist of deciding if I could come up with anything to post and wondering if it was too late to beg off and let Bonnie do a post today, when she texted me to let me know she not only couldn’t do a post today, but she might also not be able to do one next week either.

When my back is out, I can sit up. In fact, it is one of the most comfortable positions for me, because I have excellent support for my back sitting up. Since I am limited to sleeping on my side, laying down isn’t the best position when my back is out.

She, however, can lay on her back, and that’s the only position she is comfortable for very long when her back is out. She cannot type from that position.

Now, with no working ideas, I fall back to my tried-and-true method. Free writing whatever comes to mind until something presents itself. The only thing I can think of is why I didn’t write this last night. And of course, the fact that I didn’t get up right when my alarm went off like I should have.

I was barely getting a word flow going when the alarm letting us know it’s time to feed pets went off. Noticing that, I also realized that my husband was not hearing it. I had to pause long enough to get his attention onto the matter. Not that our tripod, Xavier, wasn’t enthusiastically letting him know that it was time to feed him.

There are two times in the day when he’ll bark incessantly. Both when he wants his bowl filled and put where he can reach it. The other two dogs are far more chill about it and just wait until we present their bowls to them, though I ended up typing this listening to Lakota chew her food.

So, that was my evening and this morning so far.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Of Differences and Similarities by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

The name of this blog is lifeasmirrortwins, it started as a way to answer the often-asked question of what it is like to be a twin. And right now, it seems a little hard to talk about that subject when Konnie and I don’t live in close proximity to each other.

When we lived close together all sorts of things happened because we are identical. Like the salesclerks at the local grocery store who thought there was only one of us, but that we had two different families!

And of course, there was always the times when someone approached me thinking I’m her, but that once happened when she lived in Idaho and I lived in Washington. And the one thing that always got to me is when we went out together; we always turned heads. Sometimes I want to ask people, “Haven’t you seen twins before?”

They always seem to act like seeing a couple of carbon copy people wondering about is a unique experience.

We aren’t the only identical twins in the world!

There’s several other sets in our family alone. Let me remind you of the family reunion where someone asked if we were having a twin convention.

And it isn’t like we are totally identical. People who know us can tell us apart easily. Though I might point out that our father never could tell us apart and our stepmother could. Then again, our mother mixed up regularly too. In point of fact, when she enrolled us in school for the first time she asked us which one of us was Konnie and which one was Bonnie.

So let me point out some differences between us.

Number one, Konnie is a natural lefty. In our early school years teachers were always forcing her to use her right hand when she naturally wanted to use her left. These days she is ambidextrous. I’ve always been a righty.

We are mirror twins.

Number two, Konnie has never had the issues I have with pain pills and anesthesia. I should point out her youngest son has the same problems I have. Turns out our problem is often associated with being on the spectrum. Go figure.

But even before we knew I was on the spectrum, we realized that difference. I can recall a time when Konnie called me and I answered saying I just took some Tylenol; she answered, “Okay, I’ll call back later.”

She knew I was half asleep already.

And I’m the one who has had trouble coming out of anesthesia after a procedure.

Konnie has no issues.

Difference number three is her love for fantasy. Yes, I have read some fantasy novels. I happen to be a fan of both Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, and I have read Chronicles of Narnia (after years of Konnie insisting, I should read it) but I haven’t read The Hobbit or anything like it, let alone any of the other fantasy novels she loves.

Konnie reads lots of fantasy. She’s also got a fantasy she’s writing.

Not my wheelhouse.

I’d like to say instead I’m into science fiction, unlike her, but that would be a lie, since she has a science fiction series which is fantastic, if she would just finish editing it.

We both grew up watching Star Trek after all.

And we both like romance novels. Though Konnie is completely unable to write anything that comes anywhere close to steamy. It’s still on the sweet side; I can manage, barely.

The only thing I’ve written that she’s never written is a speculative fiction, but it isn’t like that was my goal writing that story. I thought I was writing another sweet romance. Go figure.

Difference number four is that I’ve written or at least started dozens more stories than she has. I have in fact started two science fiction stories. The one which is a series for which I’ve started book two and the other is a standalone.

Konnie has her sci-fi series, her fantasy, and several romance stories, one of which is two book series. I have my speculative fiction novel, a large array of romance stories, my sci-fi series and my one standalone sci-fi. Oh, several of my romance stories are part of a series as well.

Essentially, we both have two series in the works. One each in LDS romance and one each in science fiction even, but the stories are way different, I promise!

At any rate, we may look alike, but we are two different people with different personalities and temperaments.

Anyway, happy writing, everyone!

Of Bathrooms and those Decorations by Konnie Enos

It is Tuesday night. My alarm notifying me of the time, so I remember to stop scrolling Facebook or reading and actually go to bed reminded me of several things.

1)      I’d told my husband I would get up soon (off the bed), so he’d be able to get the bottom sheet, which loves to come off on his side, back on.

2)      I told him I’d get up because I had to empty my bladder and it was even more of an issue now (several minutes after I’d first mentioned it).

3)      And not only is it Tuesday night, but this week is my turn to post. Something I obviously hadn’t even thought about yet.

With all this in mind, it was clear my first course of action would be to go to the bathroom and remind my husband that he needed to remake the bed.

My first course of action was to therefore clear everything off the bed in front of me, putting most of it, including my lap table away, or otherwise getting everything out of my way. Then I had to extract myself from the bed. Getting my feet on the floor took more effort than standing up did, but both required struggling.

Only after I was standing up did I even bother to glance toward the bathroom. That’s when I realized the bathroom was occupied. Someone was standing at the bathroom sink.

My initial assumption was my husband, whom I could easily slip past and still use the toilet while he was in there.

Then I realized the person in the bathroom was dressed all in black, not to mention obviously taller than my husband. Like about 5 inches taller (clearly since he is nearly a whole foot taller than I am). The thing is, he NEVER uses our bathroom unless his is already in use.

I practically yelled at him letting him know I needed to use the bathroom and if he was in here, that meant the other one was occupied, so what was I supposed to do.

My son wisely and immediately left the room.

Thanks to the volume of my comments, my husband realized I’d vacated the bed and immediately set to work on remaking the bed without me having to remind him of his need to do so. By the time I got back to the bed, it was completely made. (Well, except the blankets he was still getting situated.)

I sat down and considered what else I needed to do.

It was far enough past 10 to say bedtime, but I wasn’t exactly tired yet and there was the issue of my post.

I debated my options and finally pulled my lap table back out, then got out my laptop. After it was on, and I’d logged in, I opened Word. Clearly, since it just happened, my thoughts were completely on the events of the previous few minutes. It takes more time to type up what happened than it took the events to transpire.

The only other thing I could possibly come up with was my last post was about our inability to get our Christmas decorations down because my daughter and I had been sick.

Within a week of my post, I went into the living room to again discuss the issue with my daughter. During the conversation she pointed out that she had managed to take down the window decorations and our wreath, which I had not noticed. All that were left was our tree, and my nativity and Christmas village.

Obviously, the most time-consuming part to not only put up but take down.

We set a specific time to get together and work on it and even told my son when we were going to do it, because we’d need help with the boxes.

When the hour arrived, my son was asleep. Yes, it was the middle of the day. He tends to be a night owl. So instead of my son, I roped my husband into helping us. (I just told him to come out to the living room and started telling him what we needed.)

While he and I boxed up my nativity and most of the Christmas village buildings, my daughter took all the lights and decorations off the tree. Then she began getting all the smaller pieces from my village packed up. At some point my son woke up and my daughter told him to pack the tree up. Once everything was boxed up, the three of them got everything stored away.  So, all four of us worked together to get everything put away until next November.

Anyway, we got our tree down before February. Now to start gift shopping for this year. My granddaughter's birthday is in March.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.