Turn the Page!
Doris Plum had run out of bread, so she told Socrates, her clever cat, she needed to bake. What would it be? Bread, rolls, doughnuts, even pumpkin pie or cookies?
Soc knew things didn’t always go to plan, so he would be her self-appointed assistant. He knew everything about baking.
First, Doris Plum gathered together everything she would need: flour, salt, honey, yeast, water, a measuring cup, a wooden spoon, a bowl for mixing.
She followed the recipe. She measured and mixed. She kneaded the dough. She placed it in a warm spot to rise. She made herself a cup of tea. Kneading was hard work.
Doris took one sip, wait a minute, something wasn’t right… bread dough should rise! The dough needed to prove, it always doubled in size! She was puzzled and perplexed and properly stumped.
‘Meow,’ Soc said to help her. He told her to look on the next page, but she didn't hear a thing.
Doris shook her head, clicked her tongue, checked the recipe book, dusted her apron and started another batch in a different bowl: flour, salt, water, a bit of honey. She measured - and mixed - and huffed and puffed – and kneaded with double the drive. This made the bowl to move closer and closer to the edge
Then things happened very quickly.
The bowl slipped, she tried to catch it, she missed and slapped the bowl instead, high into the air. It landed on her head... upside down
Gumboots and mackintoshes!
‘Mee-oww’ Soc jumped. He swished his tail and made for the door straight away. The veranda looked much more appealing than the kitchen, and the poor human looked positively spooky!
Doris Plum STOMPED her feet and walked in circles. She GRUMBLED and COMPLAINED out loud and growled at the mess. She shook her fists, grabbed the bowl off her head and dumped it in the kitchen sink. She needed a shower to get rid of all the batter running down her cheeks. What a doughy drama!
She needed another cup of tea. On her way to the veranda, Doris gave the first bowl of dough the eye. Still flat.
She had to check the recipe. One. Final. Time.
She studied it. She concentrated. And then… she suddenly realised to...
turn the page!
///
‘Add 1 tsp of yeast,' it said at the top.
Fiddlesticks and butternut pickle!
She felt a tickle in her tummy, it turned into a giggle and travelled up to her chest, and then a big laugh escaped: ‘HA!' and another 'HAAA!!' She held her tummy.
The black cat with the one white paw was puzzled. He never understood laughing and it always startled him, to be honest.
Doris knew what to do now and she managed to bake a wholesome loaf of bread from the first batch - as well as a few decent rolls. She would save those for old Creaky Boots from down the village. He always helped her fix stuff around the house. He once saved her from a very bad incident which she didn't like to talk about. She owed him, and she owed Socrates too. After all, the clever cat did try to tell her to turn the page, but she didn't pay attention.
So he was served an extra big bowl of his favourite food that night. He washed his face for a long time after that.
‘What a clever cat,’ mumbled Doris Plum.
‘Purr…’ rumbled Socrates.
She was a very special human.
And he was a very happy cat.
