Delicious Torture

I just returned from a quick visit to the Deli here at work, where my senses were assaulted and taunted by what I must say is one of my top five favorite smells in the whole world: bread baking in the oven.

There's something about that yeasty, doughy, rich, warm, fresh aroma that makes me smile, brings back memories (my mother is a kick-ass cook), and makes me want to tear off a chunk, slather it in butter, and devour it.

I'm a sucky baker, but I think I shall have to break out the bread maker tonight.

Fight On

If my grandad had still been alive yesterday, it would have been an interesting time in my grandparents' home. My Grandfather was a native Californian (of the Old School), and a lifelong, diehard USC fan. My grandmother is a dustbowl okie, born in Arkansas, raised in Oklahoma, moved to California during the depression. She is just as fervent an OU Sooners fan (My childhood nickname was "Boomer"). She also has a soft spot for teams from the southwestern US, and a mild contempt for teams from the west Coast. Over the 50-some years of their marriage, one fight was never resolved, and it was fought off and on the whole marriage: Who was a better football player, Doak Walker or Ambrose Schindler? So yesterday's game would have been a source of pride for my grandfather, who would now be quietly gloating but keeping a low profile. You'd think that I'd have mixed feelings about the outcome of the game, given that family background, and given that USC is a rival of mmy favorite team (The UO Ducks). But my mother is also a California native and a lifelong USC fan, my father had a soft spot for them, and so do I. So congratulations to the men of Troy on a mighty victory. It's about time the Pac-10 once again lived up to the title "Conference of Champions". And maybe the west will once again gain a little respect.