I’m sure Michelle won’t mind. She shared on her gratitude this week about these pumpkin doughnut muffins that Martha Stewart shares on her website. Oh, please if you like to bake and are a fan of pumpkin, try these. I made a batch yesterday and it was very easy. Much, much easier than the soufflés and I must say, better tasting by far. I only needed two ingredients from the store, the rest I had on hand. I picked up some buttermilk and canned pumpkin and I was ready to bake. Below are some of the images of a little bit of our process. Last night the kids tasted them and didn’t want to stop at just one, although they did….per mama. They then couldn’t wait for morning to have another. I too enjoyed a muffin with my coffee this morning; I even took a few to work to share with my friends today. All great reviews. A little dense, not a fluffy muffin but perfectly dense just the way one might expect a pumpkin doughnut muffin to taste. I’m thankful for friends who share recipes!
I also got to thinking yesterday when I took the soccer player to CVS so he could buy Hershey Kisses for his girlfriend and when we got there he realized he forgot to wear shoes. I said “just go on in without them, in the 70’s that’s what we did a big majority of the time, it was the norm” He said “well we aren’t in the 70’s anymore mom but I kind of wish we were” “I know huh?” No shoes in the grocery store, dirty feet, no seatbelts, no helmets, running the streets till the street lights went on without our parents even giving it a second thought that they had not seen us all day long. Those really were some good old days. We approached the door of the store and he was frantically reading all the signs posted, No dogs allowed, leave backpacks at the register, no smoking, but it said nothing about no shoes, so he did go in, but you could tell he was nervous about it. I’m also thankful that my first decade of life was in the 70’s.
Little redheaded me midway through the 70’s
Last but certainly not least, Happy Birthday to my dear old dad. He is on his way back from Korea as I type this, gone for his actual birthday. I’m proud to call him dad because he raised me when he didn’t have to. He took me in as his own. Nobody would have guessed he wasn’t my biological dad, except for the confusion with my red hair when nobody else in my immediate family had red hair. It was always the big question “where did you get that red hair?” I’m thankful for my dad.