When I began blogging two months ago I wondered, who will read my rambling thoughts? I am not computer savvy, my spelling is a work of art and grammar? Well, lets just say I see the phrase, “fragmented sentence, may want to revise” in my sleep. But, I want to be a better writer, I want to develop computer skills, and I want to share my stories, projects, recipe’s and organizing tips that I have developed or found. So I started a blog. It has been lot of fun especially when I get comments and watching the  visits to the blog  slowly creep upwards. So when I noticed that my blog was getting close to a 1000 visits I decided to make a cake for my family when it reached the mark. And it did, late last week Karyn for you reached a 1000 visitors and I made this cake. Hmm, it was yummy.

Which turned out better than, this cake, which was made a few weeks ago during a snow day.

 Not to self choose an appropriate size pan.

But both of these cakes were a smashing success compared to the cake that could have burned my dad’s house down…

It was a Sunday afternoon. And during every Sunday afternoon my parents had a nap. This Sunday was a beautiful spring day, dad had just repaired all the bikes the day before and it was the perfect day for biking around our town (population 300). I invited the pastor’s daughter Meme, after church to come for lunch and visit for the afternoon. I convinced mom to let us bake a cake. I was about 12 or so and had been baking cakes by myself for a while now, so mom let Meme and I bake it while she and dad had their afternoon nap.  

I remember bopping around the kitchen chatting away, telling stories and discussing the important things of the day with Meme, like hand-me-down-bags, our bikes and various other topics of great importance. Then it came to adding the flour and milk alternately. This was always an important step because  the flour had to be added first and last or the texture of the cake would be either light and edible or I would, defy the law of gravity;  heavy as lead but won’t go down. I remember thinking this step through at this point, I promise.  

While the cake was baking, Meme and I decided to go out side to wait. Then we began playing on our bikes. Then we began riding around the block. Then we rode down the road to the hydro dam. THEN with heart stopping reality I remembered… I remembered I had a cake in the oven. THEN I rode with all my might back home praying, ” Oh, God please let me get there before the cake is burned” Then I heard the fire alarm a block from home, could see all the doors and window’s open  and smell  the smoke, and it was then I know I was in BIG trouble!! I came sheepishly into the kitchen while Meme played in the yard.

Mom asked,” Did you put everything in the cake Karen?”

 ”Yes”

“Everything? Think about it…. Could you have forgotten to put the last cup of flour in it?”

There on the counter was the cup of flour.

Who would have guessed that without the last cup of flour the baking soda would bubble and fizz with all the other ingredients and make a lava mess all over the oven?  Not me, that’s for sure. But I didn’t have to guess either, why I wasn’t allowed to bake with my friends anymore either.

What is your memorable story of a meal or baking that did not turn out?