Plans can change at a moment’s notice

It has been said that man plans and God laughs. This past weekend illustrated that perfectly.

I had been listening to the weather forecast of icy conditions headed our way. Instead of my usual weekly shopping, I planned to stay home on Saturday. It would be a perfect day to make vegetable soup and homemade bread. I saved Sunday for writing this column and reading the book club book. I had been wanting to read that particular selection and had saved it for a lazy day.

Saturday arrived and the ice did not. I had faith in the weatherman and stayed home. I made sure I had enough yeast and flour for the bread.

I put the yeast into the water to proof. I chopped the meat for the soup. Everything was going according to plan. I should have known better. When I gathered the rest of the ingredients for the soup, I found several of the key ingredients missing. Then I remembered I had used them for the Frito pie I made last week.

Still listening to the weatherman, I decided not to run up to the store for the few things I was missing. I put the newly chopped meat back in the refrigerator and continued with the bread. It didn’t rise to my satisfaction and joined the inhabitants of the refrigerator to be finished the following day. Some days simply refuse to follow my plans. I could hear God snickering.

I think the bread was uncooperative because it had been more than a year since I made any kind of bread without the assistance of many little hands. It is a favorite activity of the grandchildren, along with their cousins and friends. When the grandchildren came up for Mom’s funeral one of the first things the youngest, Nicholas, asked was, “Can we make bread?”

I had to tell him no because there wasn’t enough time. I don’t think he understood how long it takes for the yeast to do its work and turn flour, water and salt into something delicious.

My plans for Saturday evaporated as quickly as the non-existent ice on the trees. There was a travel advisory issued and I stayed home so I am not sure how slick the roads eventually became.

Sunday I tried to write something vaguely interesting. As I stared at the blank screen my mind was as flat and barren as the colorless sky above. My fingers tapped aimlessly on the keys. A vague sense of panic told me to type something, anything to get the words flowing.

 I tried all the delaying tactics I knew. I took the bread dough out of the refrigerator to warm. I worked a puzzle. I checked e-mail. I searched the newspaper for topics. Nothing. The television was no help, either. Politics make me cringe. Nature shows make me long for spring.

Sometimes nothing works. I could hear more snickering from above.

My mother always refused to make plans. She said they never work out, so why bother? Me, I make all kinds of plans. I have several to-do lists going at any given time. For me, plans give me something to look forward to. They provide structure to my life.

All the daily planners and calendars on the market tell me that many, if not most, people make plans for the future. If the old saying is true, then God must be one happy being.

I think I’ll try again to make soup and bread for supper. Do you hear laughing?