When nothing works make buttermilk biscuits

I started (tried to) this blog eight months ago. Then life happened. The last eight months everything a big blur. The last winter, the spring, the summer, and now another fall going into winter. Where does time go? So I am trying now to start again. This blog. Lost my password to blog. Lost my username. Forgot my name. Looked all over desk. Found scribbled notes re Obamacare, notes to my financial advisor, clippings to send to friends, recipes. Receipts from cab fare to and from hospital in March. Restaurant receipts. Metra cards. No password. Forgot how to blog. Never knew how. Computer skills getting rusty. Brain getting rusty. Everyone in or going to hospital. Everyone seems to be having brain tumors, brain aneurysm, strokes, brain surgery…….

Working again. Still no money. Never can catch up. Voters voted in an $89 million dollar referendum yesterday that will further hike my taxes. Just did my 2013 taxes, time to do this year’s taxes soon. Freaking out. What to do. Bake! Bake! Bake!

Had a box of Swanson cake flour. Some buttermilk. There is always left over buttermilk. Found recipe for biscuits. Two cups flour. Baking powder, soda, one stick butter, salt. Three fourths cup buttermilk. Sift, put in liquid. Pat out. Cut out biscuits. Soft already and silky. Light and feathery dough. Puffed up nicely. Pale gold. Made 13 biscuits. Took out and ate them hot with butter and fig preserves. Heaven!!!! You are supposed to wait to eat when they are warm or at room temp. They are also good hot. I thought about giving them to friends. Called J and no answer. Called a neighbor and no answer. They are best given away warm. So I keep them. They look as good as something Edna Lewis would make. That great great American chef from Freetown Virginia. If you don’t know about her look her up.

I now have a terrible pain in my chest. Acid reflux. I’m sure people a hundred years ago who made these biscuits didn’t get acid reflux. But even though I have this pain, it’s worth it. Felt calming and peaceful and the house smelled great. The pain gone now. I will probably have at least two more biscuits tonight and get another reflux attack. That’s life in 2014.

About O

I live in a suburb of an American City. I write to try and understand myself and the world around me. I love nature, art, music, literature and beauty in all its forms. I think the world is crazy and many of us will soon go insane from living in this world. What I love almost more than anything is my garden. I love its trees its shrubs and its many flowers. I love the birds, their flying and singing and dancing movements in and out of the sky and garden. Their freedom. I could watch birds all day long, though sometimes they act horribly, and fight and squabble over the birdbath, seeds, and space just like people. As do other animals, and sometimes you wonder if anger, violence, greed and chaos, really has to be part of life, and why. I love to work in my garden. To get muddy and dirty, digging, weeding, mowing, pruning and deadheading. Then, I like to have a cool glass of white wine or red, or sometimes a Manhattan, and drink in hand, I walk around and look at the fruits of my labor. My blog is whennothingworks because for a long time nothing has worked. Friends, family, jobs, money, fame, houses, careers, lovers, things--- it all just doesn't work sometimes, or most of the time. The garden always works. Nature and its beauty always work. Whatever your garden is and wherever it is. My garden always gives peace, delight, calm, majesty, and beauty. And, in my garden, I can sit quietly and think, or just breathe, and somehow manage to survive the world.

View all posts by O →

	O on The White Trees of Easter
	ladycee on The White Trees of Easter
	O on The White Trees of Easter
	ladycee on The White Trees of Easter
	O on The White Trees of Easter

	O on The White Trees of Easter
	ladycee on The White Trees of Easter
	O on The White Trees of Easter
	ladycee on The White Trees of Easter
	O on The White Trees of Easter