Isn’t it funny how our brains work?
The weather this morning was perfect — cool and comfortable with blue skies overhead. As I walked along with Rory Dog, I couldn’t help but notice the clouds. They looked like thin schmears of white frosting on the sky.
But instead of making me hungry, they made me think of a book I read a hundred years ago — The Ivory Cane by Janet Dailey. It was one of my mom’s romance novels, but the story sticks with me to this day.
The heroine Sabrina was an artist, blinded in her 20′s in a car accident. When she frosted a cake, she had to run her fingers along the icing to see if it was completely covered. Her family called her creations “fingerprint cakes.”
Of course, she still got the guy. (It was a Harlequin romance.)
My brain conjured all that up from the sight of a wispy cloud. But I still don’t much like cake.
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Stray thought
Isn’t it funny how our brains work?
But instead of making me hungry, they made me think of a book I read a hundred years ago — The Ivory Cane by Janet Dailey. It was one of my mom’s romance novels, but the story sticks with me to this day.
The heroine Sabrina was an artist, blinded in her 20′s in a car accident. When she frosted a cake, she had to run her fingers along the icing to see if it was completely covered. Her family called her creations “fingerprint cakes.”
Of course, she still got the guy. (It was a Harlequin romance.)
My brain conjured all that up from the sight of a wispy cloud. But I still don’t much like cake.
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