I’ve always dreamed of being a domestic queen. As of today I am not yet Queen of all things Domestic. Sadly, as I creep further into my twenties, it’s becoming clear that perhaps I never will be. Gasp!
In my teens I was always floored by my mom’s ability to bake up a storm without ever taking out a measuring cup. I thought, and she assured me, that once I left the nest and had my own home and my own kitchen these things would just come to me. Looking at a bowl full of flour and knowing that it was filled with a cup and three-quarters of unsifted would be as inherent as my abundant beauty marks, flippy earlobes and embarassingly flat feet. . . . As the years slip by it’s becoming clear that someone missed the boat when they passed out the “complete knowledge of measurements” gene. I’ve been living it up on my own for eight years now and my domestic goddess abilities still haven’t kicked in! Pammy Kay is as me as the image in the mirror. I figured if I don’t know how many apples it takes to bake a pie, Pammy wouldn’t know either. It just wouldn’t be fair!
I hope you enjoy this little sketch. I’m off to pack, queen of the kitchen, never. . . queen of travel, handmade sketchbooks and white sand beaches, always 🙂