When I was a kid in the ready-mix 1970s, blueberry muffins were a major treat, made from that Betty Crocker mix that came with a tiny can of "wild blueberries." The blueberries were tiny dark and mysterious orbs swimming in an inky pool of liquid, presumably from Maine or some other exotic locale far removed from Southern California, where the only crops we could boast of were citrus, concrete, and smog.
Zabar's recipe blog got me with its superbly lit photo of blueberry muffins, bursting with fruit. This weekend, I decided that regression would be a good antidote after the rigors of a shortened work week after the July 4th holiday - and an unexpected flea infestation due to racoons having burrowed under the house.
I woke up today feeling as if I had been on a treadmill for nine hours - to be specific, a treadmill with a washer and dryer attached it it. I spent yesterday emptying my closet, bagging garments that potentially had fleas or eggs. I laundered everything that could be washed and have several piles of clothes for the dry cleaner. To bolster the efforts of the pest control company that sprayed inside and outside the house, I sprinkled the carpets and closets with salt, which is supposed to act as a desicant and dehydrate the fleas to extinction.
I realize these are first-world problems. But these days, even the first world doesn't seem all that safe, in the wake of evildoings and the snuffing out of lives here at home and across the globe. The Boomtown Rats' song, "I Don't Like Mondays," which was about a school shooting, seemed like a farce back in the day. Although based on real events, the idea that someone would do such a horrible thing was unthinkable. Today, flags being flown at half-mast is the new normal; I think we would stop in surprise if it was displayed aloft and proud again.
The most benign definition of regression that I could find on Merriam-Webster.com defines it as "reversion to an earlier mental or behavioral level." With all that happens today, a bit of regression probably wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe we could all go back to finding joy in things like the promise of unknown treasures like a can of tiny blueberries grown in a far-off place.
1) The "batter" will resemble more of a dough; don't be scared off, it bakes beautifully.
2) Eat with a fork - the abundance of blueberries makes these muffins impossible to handle, and wonderfully so!
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