When I was little, I remember noticing the veins in my Nanny’s hands. I remember knowing how hard she worked with those hands. How gentle she loved. How strong and tender and experienced they were. I noticed the same thing about my mom as she washed dishes one evening and the sun shined on mountains of veins. It’s a beautiful thing, turning all the gears in your life. I like my veiny hands.
Tag Archives: mom
Bread with Mommy
Mommy makes the best bread. I asked her to come over one morning and teach me the ropes of her family envied recipe and technique. Her experienced hands showed that dough who’s boss! We made what we call “Three Generation Rolls” where she rolled a small ball of dough and then my daughter and I did the same. We put all three in one muffin pan and it was very obvious which one of the three my mother man-handled. It was grey and cold outside and warm and delicious inside. Hope your not wearing your new shirt ’cause this post is mouth-watering!
Friendly City Lens 