Our daughter, Ali (age 22) holds two degrees, and is a pastry chef at a local restaurant. She also works for BookLocker part-time, assisting with a variety of things, from book formatting, to website updates, to bank reconciliations. We used to have her three days per week but, lately, her “other boss” has been demanding more of her time and expertise and she’s now down to only two days a week with us. She won’t let me call her other boss to complain. Ha ha. After all, cooking is her calling and she only works for us as a favor (I detest bank reconciliations).

Today just happens to be OUR day for Ali. Tonight, the restaurant is having a big wine dinner. They begged Ali to come in but she agreed to work here because there is more than enough to keep her busy. The downside of that decision is her phone has been ringing all afternoon. She did the prep for the special dessert tonight (some decadent chocolate cake/mousse monstrosity with raspberry coulis that has so many calories I gained weight just listening to the description) but the guys in the kitchen have to finish it up. I couldn’t help eavesdropping on her phone call, of course, since the subject was DESSERT! She was teaching them exactly what to do to make the sauce thicker; a mixture of the fridge, butter, just the right this and that, and several other actions, just to get the right consistency so they can cut through it but not crack it. She sounded like a chemist! I am so proud. 🙂

This week’s Masonism:

On Frank’s 21st birthday, Mason (age 7) came in our room, and sat next to me while I was working. He turned toward me, put his hand gently on my arm, looked into my eyes, and said, “Frank is becoming a man. He’s not gonna be your kid anymore.”

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