On Christmas morning a few weeks ago we had pancakes for breakfast. They weren't just normal pancakes however. They were gingerbread pancakes. At first I thought Mom had just burned the pancakes. All of them. On both sides. And the edges. I sat down at the table and saw syrup and butter, and sour cream. Weird. Really weird. The recipe includes molasses, cloves, cinnamon, ginger and thumb. Did I say thumb?
After last weeks accident, my thumb is doing a lot better. If you look at the picture of my severed thumb piece from last week's post, you can see three distinct layers -- the clear uppermost skin, a layer of blood vessels, and a deeper layer of tissue. On Monday morning the deepest layer of skin had completely healed. On Wednesday the layer of blood vessels magically reappeared in the morning. By Saturday morning, the uppermost layer of skin didn't give the appearance of having healed at all. However, when I took the band-aid off that night to air it out, the blood layer had become cloudy and was beginning to disappear. My thumb is definitely asymmetrical now, but otherwise it should be back to normal soon.
Oops! Cy just realized he made a grave mistake. He made a double batch of dry ingredients but a single batch of the wet ingredients. Dad left the sizzling bacon to assist in whipping together an extra batch of wet ingredients. The ingredients are completely mixed together and Dad gave me a bacon appetizer. The gingerbread pancakes are on the griddle and are swelling up nicely. It's almost time to flip them. I can't wait.
Those were great. You bit in to the gingerbread and tasted gingerbread mixed with pumpkin pie, then you got a wonderful bright lemon kick as you swallowed. Those were a lot better than the ones we had on Christmas morning and the bacon was perfect. For breakfast for dinner those were perfect.
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