My mom can bake. Boy is she tanned! Just kidding. She bakes in an oven, not in a tanning bed (unless she and my dad are headed to Cuba and then all bets are off. She’s all about getting “the base.” Sigh).
My kids are obsessed with Grandma’s muffins. So is my dad.…wokka-wokka. Oh dear, that was terribly wrong on so many levels, but it made me laugh so I’m keeping it.
The fact is my mother knows her way around a loaf pan. Fluffy pancakes, cookies fresh from the oven, moist banana bread and her loaves…
I’ve been after her Lemon Loaf recipe (which she got a friend). For some reason my dear mother was unwillingly to share. Why? She shares everything else. Ever time I go over to her house there is a stack of newspaper clippings she’s cut out for me to read and movies she’s signed out from the library for me. She buys two of everything when she goes to Costco so she can share the goods with her daughter.
If sharing is caring, then my mum cares… a lot.