SACRED MORNINGS

Last Saturday, I woke up around 7:30 AM, which believe it or not is actually considered "sleeping in" where I'm concerned. I got up, showered and dressed and headed out to run some errands before Michael woke up. This is not a new routine. I can get a lot accomplished in the mornings, but also I get some mental health time. I've made Heirloom Bakery my first stop lately, on these solitary Saturday mornings. Heirloom is a fairly new bakery that's opened in the Brookside area and everything about it reminds me of Portland. They bake everything from scratch and use local and seasonal ingredients whenever possible. Behind the counter there's a large work table where the young people who work there are always busy kneading dough or icing poptarts. 

Every time I walk in, I am tempted to buy one of everything from the display case. My personal favorite is the homemade poptart. On this particular day, I resist. Though all bets would have been off if the guy in front of me hadn't bought the last two Royals cookies. I went for the bread by the slice, toasted and slathered with peanut butter and local honey. I filled my coffee mug and took a seat at the counter. The counter spot is the best place because you can watch them making everything. You can see their faces, the look of joy and contentment as they work. Watching them move around the counter from one task to the next is like watching a well choreographed music video. I couldn't help but smile as Huey started crooning about the power of love being a curious thing and I watched the owner turn it up with a wicked grin. The bakery hummed. This is one of the reasons why this place reminds me of Portland. 

I chose my time at the counter to write in my Fortune Cookie journal while I waited for my breakfast. It didn't take me long to fill the tiny space given to my fortune on that page. I licked honey and peanut butter off my fingers while I tried to squeeze in just a few more words in tiny illegible handwriting. The story continued to write itself in my head even as I ran out of room to write in the journal.   

Nothing good comes from jealousy but there is good to be found in jelly beans

Carrie pressed her face up to the window and gazed at all the beautiful candies. There were sours and chocolates and every kind of gummy animal you could imagine. She stood up on her tip toes to peek up over a display of Cadbury chocolate bars to get a better look. This was when she heard the sound of skipping and chatter. She turned her head to see Maddie and father open the door to the candy shop causing the little bell above the door to rattle. Of course, thought Carrie. Maddie probably got all the candy she ever wanted. Maddie was always wearing the cutest dresses and they always looked brand new and clean. Maddie ate a perfectly packed lunch out of a tin box every day, never a paper bag, and her dad had a job. Carrie watched as Maddie pointed to a jar of gummy bears and wondered what it would be like to go into the shop and buy whatever candy she wanted.

If there had been room, Carrie would have wished for jelly beans. If there had been room, Maddie would have bought jelly beans for Carrie. But there was not and I'm OK with that, because there was room in my day just for this.