Something Sweet During a Flood
The water spirals out of the sink when I pull the plug out. I have just washed all the dishes and wiped off the countertop, ready to dirty it all again. I take out all my ingredients, the flour, sugars, butter, eggs, and so on. Then I take out every bowl, measuring cup, and spoon that I’m going to use. It’s called mise en place, having all your stuff laid out ahead of time. It’s such a satisfying feeling, and I rarely let myself have this little luxury.
It’s been a long day. Day two of how many days of rain? The city is flooded. In the pictures online some buildings are surrounded. The worst flooding in twenty years, so they say. Rivers and creeks rising up to meet the roads and houses, causing who-knows-what kinds of damage. It looks so devastating from a bird’s eye view, but driving around everything just looks wet. My thirty-minute additional detour to town today was nothing to complain about in the grand scheme of things.
Things seem to be improving. We're waiting for the river to crest and return to something less intrusive, then we can assess and try to fix the damage. People will be kinder, probably, they always are when an alleged act of God strikes where they live. They will find patience and understanding and reach out to their fellow man. I don’t remove myself from that criticism either. One of those frustrating things about being human, I guess.
Add the oatmeal and the raisins to the cookie dough and continue mixing until it’s firm. Chill the dough in the fridge for thirty to sixty minutes. Some people don’t do this step, but it’s better to chill your cookie dough right up until you put it in the oven. Good things take time.
While the cookies are baking and I am working from home, I get the happy news that my nephew has come into the world. I am flooded with joy, full of so much excitement I can’t stand it. I allow myself a few moments of happy tears, prove that crying is not inherently a bad thing. I am grateful to work from home today; I would hate to have to spend this happy moment in a windowless office listening to one coworker eat a bag of Doritos while another calls someone a slur.
It feels significant somehow, him being born today. His newspaper from the day he was born will be all about water damage and road closures. It’s weird to feel so happy while scrolling through all these flood pictures. The worst of the weather is now behind us, and I try not to think fantastic things like my nephew “brought the rain” or “brought the sun.” It’s just a fun coincidence, and I’m overexcited.
The cookies come out perfectly, chewy but not falling apart, the right amount of salt. I soaked the raisins in warm water to plump them up before baking, so they’re noticeable juicy. Water can enhance and water can destroy.
I finish my shift while munching the cookies, think about the days ahead. The weather will get shitty again event, because that’s how life works. You get the rain and you get the sun. My nephew now exists in the real world, and it’s bittersweet because the world is so beautiful but also so much of it is hard. But he’ll do his best, like we all do, and we’ll help him. He has his life ahead of him, and so do I, and so does everyone. We get past the rain, we have to clean up, and then sometimes we get to make cookies.
