Donuts for Dad's Day

The donuts that I started last night turned out okay. I was a little skeptical about the instructions to "use your finger to poke a hole in the middle of each of the mounds to give them a donut-like center," and rightfully so: once the dough had risen, the holes all but disappeared. Still, the consistency and flavor of the end product were pretty good. Not quite as light and delicate as I would have preferred but, still, pretty good. I think I've eaten about eight of them today. Baked donuts, though certainly a little less tasty than their fried counterparts, nevertheless successfully satisfy that donut craving, minus the yucky stomach-achey after affects.

The donuts came out of the oven just in time for a late Father's Day breakfast. My dad grabbed a few and took them out into the back yard with him, so he could munch and work in the garden at the same time.

I have a great dad. I don't think I demonstrate often enough just how grateful I am for all he does. He's such a hard worker, generous, thoughtful, and a good friend. Both my parents have been absolutely amazing these past months, while I've been forgoing searing for a job in order to travel the world or just sit around the house reading a book. They never pressured me or tried to make me feel guilty about taking some time off just for me. They never tutted or made me feel ridiculous after all the times I've changed my mind about what I want to do next with my life. They've given me space. They've let me live in their house. Whether I was thinking I wanted to go to seminary or start a second bachelor's degree, stay in San Diego or backpack around Europe, they've been nothing but supportive. And I appreciate it. Deeply.

Right now I can hear them in the living room, watching 30 Rock on Netflix. I'm also grateful that I'm able to share common tastes with my folks, like our tastes in sitcoms and in donuts. I think I'll close my laptop now and go join them in a little of both.