Genetics? What a relief and IT'S A MIRACLE!

First of all, Genetics. What the heck. When I think of genetics, I think of hair and eyes and noses. I even think of tendancies such as anxiety and unmotivated..ness... that sort of stuff. When I think of cooking and following recipes, I think "it really isn't that hard, it's just a recipe. follow it" That's just how it is for me. Well, maybe cooking is genetic. maybe it comes easier to me, because it comes easy to my mom. My mom is a fabulous cook. Best I know. My mom tried her hardest to get me to cook and be interested in cooking when I lived at home. There was no interest. Then I moved out and had to cook for myself and BAM love to cook. I think (in the most humble of ways) that I'm a pretty good cook. I really enjoy showing off even (that might not be so humble, but you know you like it). Growing up, my mom always cooked and baked many lovely things. Cookies, were a whole different story. They always came out tasting great, but they were always flat. Chocolate chip cookies were flat with little bumps where ever there was a chocolate chip. Good tasting, weird looking. Well, last night, i attempted chocolate chip cookies (again), and what do you know, flat with little bumps where there are chocolate chips. You may be thinking "try a different recipe" or "make sure you measure with exactness" well, think again. My mom and I are both cookie challenged. We follow the recipe exactly. We have tried many different recipes. Heck, last nights cookies couldn't have been any easier. It was a bag mix. I heated the oven to exactly 375. i put in exactly 1 stick of butter and exactly 1 egg. I cooked it for exactly how long it told me to. They even looked good in the oven. how can you mess this up?! I don't know how, but I can and I did. It's genetic. My sister, did not get this gene. She can bake cookies and have them turn out perfect. Same recipe, same ingredients, same measuring utinsels, but hers always look better.





New subject. What a relief. So our first married ward was not a ward, but instead, a branch. The branch consisted of the newly weds with their brand new children and the old people who lived in the "senior living" section of our complex. So none of the members were planning on staying long. We went, enthusiastic, and I felt pretty let down. I'm sure the branch was full of wonderful people. I'm sure they were all really nice, but, none of them talked to me (us). The bishop didn't know us, not even the relief society president said a word to me. It was a hard place to be. Now that we have moved, we're in a real ward, with real people. We went to our ward for the first time today and AMAZING. The difference was unbelieveable. I had lots of people come up and introduce themselves and tell me (us) how happy they were that we're in the ward. The bishop wants us to come in so he can get to know us next sunday. Someone sat next to me in relief society today. There were lots of other seats she could have sat in, but she sat next to me. I hate first days. I hate the awkwardness. I hate not knowing how things work and who people are. I still don't know who anyone is, but they made me (us) feel comfortable to be there. I am very much excited to be a part of this ward.


The last of my rant, is bread. Bread is amazing. When I was packing up the food to move it, I came to my bag of brown sugar. it was pretty much just one big rock of sugar. I told my mom, who was helping me pack, to just throw it away. she said "on no, don't do that, just stick a piece of bread in it and it will soften right up." I know you're supposed to put a piece of bread in with the cookies to keep them soft, but i didn't know it worked with brown sugar too. I also didn't have much faith in the system. I thought it would make the little "rocks" a little more soft and the big one easier to work with. I took the brown sugar out to use it just now, and what do you know, it feels just like a brand new bag of brown sugar. you can't even tell. I am amazed. it's a miracle.