and life goes on

I cannot resist finishing the long and probably unnecessary narrative of the cake decorating class:

As per usual I procrastinated in investigating details on my class until 48 hours prior to its actual start. I could blame it on the pain pills and a general lack of awareness regarding the days of the week and dates, but even without the mind-addling doses of painkillers I most likely would've left it off until the last minute. When I did conduct my investigation I found a long list of supplies required on the JoAnne fabrics website advertising my Wilton: Buttercream Basics class (I know, everyone's dream activity). This was both exciting and daunting, namely because in my inability to drive under the influence of medication I have regressed to a needy 15 year old needing rides everywhere.

My dad was generous enough to take me the afternoon of the first class down to the kent JoAnne fabrics where we would be returning later that evening in the pursuit of all things frosting. We strolled through the cakery aisles and I blanched at a few of the prices. $13 for a spatula was a little cost prohibitive in my book, particularly considering that I am a proud possessor of amazon prime- and who doesn't love 99 cent pricing and free shipping? Thinking I might perhaps put off my complete purchase in favor of the online marketplace I inquired whether or not I would need 100% of my supply list on the eve of the first class (which I fully expected to be half introduction, name games, and review of the class). This inspired a flurried chain of questions from stocking peon to stationary lady to a harried shift lead who informed me that I would need each and every supply in my first dip into cake decorating. Her eyes darted around in a way that didn't inspire much confidence but her frown made me think I better pony up and buy the $13 spatula. We ended up finding everything, down to the pearl dust and $40 later I was ready for my class. Back home, I dumped out the carefully organized contents of the perfect sized tote bag and carefully repacked it with all the supplies for what I was sure would be the best class ever.

Luckily I also happen to be on the edge of obsessive compulsive in these things because I went back to check to ensure I wasn't missing any supplies. As I didn't have the site saved I googled it up and happened upon an entirely different supplies list for the same class, this one from the wilton website itself. My stomach quickly dropped down to my knees. This list included things like baked unfrosted cupcakes. I had just enough time to back a batch but I quickly called up the Joanne Fabrics folks to confirm before i got into the business of throwing around flour and butter. Again my inquiry set up a flurry among the ladies of the green apron. They reminded me of little birds on a line, all taking flight in a panic whenever anyone passed below or at the first hint of breeze. My little birds left me on hold for a  very long time before the eldest sounding of the pigeons picked up the line to inform me that the cake class had been cancelled due to lack of registration. They had nobody signed up at all, she informed me, and furthermore no one there had even HEARD of registering online for a class in her store. I immediately went through the roof. I icily recounted to her the tale of my adventures searching for answers in her store no more than two hours prior. I asked her why her employee had lied to me earlier and insisted I buy her expensive spatulas. She put me back on hold. At that point I could've lost my temper entirely but managed to keep it together as she apologized and managed to let out a breath when she promised to refund all the unnecessary supplies.

Once the anger had passed, disappointment took its place. I had mentally invested quite a bit of meaning and impetus in the silly class. It had become my symbol for moving forward, my re-introduction to the world and I had built it up as such so I felt silly. Like so many other things in life it hadn't worked out as I planned, leaving me to wonder "what now?". It made me want to sigh and ask "why me?". Unfortunately I've learned that there aren't very good answers to this question and no one much likes hearing it. So I returned my expensive spatulas and turned my eye to a new inspiration for impetus.

 I have been walking daily and perhaps this is my new inspiration. I am training, walking a little farther or perhaps a little faster, in hopes that I won't be left too far behind in Italy. Lucca, our primary destination only allows so many cars within its walls and its inhabitants predominantly walk or bicycle about their days. I know in our time there we will be exploring hither and thither within its walls and out where our beautiful little rented house sits, 300 metres from the old medieval walls sheltering a historical center dating back hundreds and hundreds of years ago. I hope that by pounding the pavement on this side of the atlantic when we reach our little sunlit tuscan paradise I will be able to keep up with the group as we wander the city. I am lucky enough to have my beautiful cousin Marisa coming along with me to help keep an eye on me. She will be my company for those days that my aches and pains catch up with me (I hope they will be very few) and keep me close to home. The good news is our lovely house has an equally lovely kitchen and is right across the street from a good market and various specialty shops including  a butcher and pasticcieria (pastry shop) meaning even my resting days can be spent in the vigorous pursuit of all things good and beautiful and Italian- and therefore delicious. I still mourn the loss of my pastry practice, and on tuesday nights I feel a little urge to throw a pinch of flour over my shoulder in memory of the buttercream basics class. But just like my larger "what nows" I have found a way to move on; to adapt and move on to something new. Because at the end of the day the sun still rises on your what nows and life goes on- its only a question of whether you jump on and go along for the ride regardless.