The Calm

In happens in all walks of life. That moment, standing on the precipice of an event, in which you can do nothing but wait. to. fall.

Dancers experience it in the sliver of time between clearing the stage and waiting for the curtain to go up and the music to start. Bartenders have a few minutes between when they see the game winning home run on tv and when first a trickle, and then the masses, surge through the door to celebrate or drown their sorrows. Hosts wait, checking and rechecking minute details, sitting and then nervously popping up to check something, anything, until the first guests to their dinner party ring the doorbell.

You know it, too. The calm before the storm. When you've prepared all you can, but now you have got to wait until forces greater than yourself deem the time to be right.

It's how this end of September is feeling to me. Summer is clearly over but the holiday season isn't upon us yet. I'm still working part time in the bakery, waiting for the moves and the shakes that will allow me to be there full time. Nothing I can do. No more peach or raspberry madness for me to cook up in the kitchen, but apples are barely in and I refuse to start with pumpkins and Halloween until October. Nothing I can do. December is around the corner, and I know there will be chaos at work and a (perceived) push here to produce more. More cookies, more ideas, more pictures, more cakes, more inspiration.

Nothing I can do, but wait for the storm.