Not Cross Brownies

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Good Friday – again – not the same day every year but the same motif, white crosses on a field of baked grains... all in the fine interests of dogmatic tradition and delectation. Yet in the preamble to this year’s joys I stumbled onto something that is truly the Devil’s work... The kind of thing that’d get those god-bothering anti-stemcell, it-goes-against-nature-and-god’s-will sorts in all manner of a pantie-twist... Hot Cross Brownies! Genius at first sight... And I thought aha – I have a humorous new angle for my Easter blog post. I can understand a need to increase sales and cash in on any vaguely marketable ploy… so add a white cross onto your brownies and be done with it. BUT these fiends would not stick to that. Oh no, they messed with the medium… they cross-bred a bun with a brownie resulting in something that looks like a brownie but tastes of Xmas at the wrong time of year and makes a train-wreck of the chocolate decadence one wants from a brownie – currants and cinnamon in a brownie? Like condensed milk on a sardine! If its not broken don’t break it... as the saying doesn’t go. If you’ve only got a thumb every tool looks like a hammer, right? 

Anyway these culinary horrors were uncovered in East London a week prior to Easter so I was able to forage for the more traditional fare... which is good as it is unclear what the Vatican’s stance is on Hot Cross Bun substitutes... and if those Brownies had been good many might’ve been tempted off the path of righteousness... This year I stalked and snared a brace of buns in the fields of Villandry, a restaurant that lies beneath the bastion of my gainful employment - Double Negative - stalwart in the VFX industry to which I owe so much. For the last 3 months, I have lived like a Prince of London in their Ivory Tower penthouse while serving on Avengers 2. So this morning, appropriately, I shared a bun with Rapunzel herself before leaving these fair and generous shores for a transatlantic ambush of my Canadian pals Katie and Skez who are about to leave Victoria, BC for Grand Cayman... en route I devoured the 2^nd bun and can state that these buns have been about the best I’ve had in many years though I did doubt their integrity at first as they had but the slightest hint of a cross but a deceptively delicious glazing of sugar. Mmmm. 

 In the last 12months I have had a freewheeling wander across many parts of this beautiful planet. Along the way I have been to all ‘my places’ and seen ‘all my people’ except Slacktoria in Canada. And now I head there, to rectify that, not out of duty but out of delight!  I’ve seen the value of community and stability. London, Kas, Cape Town, Johannesburg, New York, LA, Black Rock City and Victoria – all places I would be welcomed to as if at home. Yet my life, my job and my choices, exciting at times have me shifting a lot... spreading me quite thinly over this magnificent globe so I miss out on the rewards community brings, building, growth, consistency which can translate to family, pets, learning from a master and for a 2nd year in a row Deirdre's homemade buns pictured . I fear it’s also cost me a prize more dear.

This last year has been extraordinary. It’s contained phenomenal loss and phenomenal gain. One aspect of it has been coming to terms with Love. What a delicate thing it seems to be but how ferocious and strong it can bind. There has been storm after storm and numerous occasions on which it has seemed to be snuffed out only for it to spring back to life stronger than ever. Yes, I cried and yes I have fed on my pain, beat my chest, rent my clothes and wanted it all to end. Certainly with bitter resolution I could’ve ensured its end. But, taking a leaf from pure impressionism I once made the choice to never paint with black. I am glad I didn’t. Instead I took some fat from the marrow of the bones of life I’ve been gnawing on and made a candle to burn in honour of what Miss Sparrow has been for me for the last 6 years.

Geographical dislocation, divergent life-patterns and encumbering baggage suggest the situation is round peg and square hole. Like learning the hard truth that friendship is not necessarily forever, so - I’ll quote the Byrds rather than the bible - I’m understanding 'There is a time for everything'. And now is not the time for Us. Now is instead the time to walk our own paths so that we may know the joys of our individual dreams. When we try to be together the Universe seems to pull us apart and when we make no effort it pulls us close. So off we bound into the woods, looking to live before we die, knowing that if we encounter one another again we will be absolutely fresh, renewed and reinvigorated. I understand this as living in Grace. This is not a regret, this is an opportunity and a joy. It’s an interesting journey and an even more interesting difference to separate from a love for the wrong reason compared to doing it for the right reason. I’ve had both with the same person for the first time. Separating now because we love each other rather than last year over mistrust. An angel-friend pointed out the possible reading of that song “You only know your lover when you let her go” to be that you have to let go of all ownership, all objectification within love to allow them to come to a full fruition and in so doing they may grow in absolute abundance and give many gifts in time. The future is a very big, promising and mysterious place but for now we each have to deal with our individual ‘presents’. I am calm within. I also understand that you don’t need religion to have faith. I have faith in the integrity and love with which we've made this choice. Taking a step away from the lowest common denominator trap and towards the possibility of a brighter future. We remain available to and for each other nonetheless. 

When I wake from this beautiful dream I call my life I hope to be at peace and in perfect harmony. I wish this for all. And in the meantime I plan to find out just how big this lobster can grow.

Super much love

Doctor Lobster

PS – I completed a bi-continental, mid-ocean, hat trick of HCB’s this year care of these slightly Cajungrilled-buns provided – seen in Champers McSpankypants’s garden of delight.