I have discovered the reason my brain never understood math. All along, it was just a set up to help me bless the lives of others.
I always strongly disliked math in school… I was such a stereotypical girl who loved reading, writing, history… and was baffled by math. I can’t even count the number of nights I sat at our kitchen table and dear ole’ Dad tried to help me understand my math homework. He rubbed his poor forehead bald in frustration, trying to help me understand that stuff.
I have a fiend who is excellent with numbers. I’m not sure how we stumbled upon this little factoid, but she is the only person I know who memorized pi for the fun on it. You know, that 3.14 thingy? Did you know it does on, um… forever? 3.14…15… on and on! She’s got it memorized to like 20 digits out or something. This is the same friend who is like a walking phone book- she’s got everyone’s number memorized in her head. And that is saying a lot, these days, in our era of cell phones that can store all of that information for you!
This friend is so handy when I’m quilting. Because quilting is actually very mathematical… you have to know how many little pieces to cut, how big to make them… oh, it makes my brain hurt. All that algebra. I’m just not good at it, and when I don’t have anyone to help me… well, let me just tell you the story of my friend’s baby blanket.
I started making this darling pink and black blanket for my friend’s little girl. I started by sketching it all out, writing down how much of each fabric I would need. Then I got out the trusty rotary cutter and went to town. After that, I started sewing it together… and then, holy cow. What happened to my BABY blanket? Why did it look like I was working on a king size comforter? Then I realized… my faulty math brain was at work.
The silver lining? Now my friend’s baby, L, and two other sweet baby girls get to snuggle in their homemade pink and black quilts!!
And then last night, the night of all that banana bread…
I decided kind of late in the day that I wanted to make some of my famous banana bread for family night. In my haste, I decided I wanted to double the recipe so that I had extra loaves to share with a family from church. I got to work, doing some quick multiplication in my head (I KNOW. MULTIPLICATION. I only wish it took some more complex math to double a recipe, to cover my shame… but alas, it was multiplication that was my downfall…) Anyway, I had the butter and the sugar creaming away in my stand mixer, and was about to add the eggs… and wait a second. It was another one of those “How did my baby blanket turn into a King size comforter?” moments.
I started doing the math again, and realized I was creaming enough butter and sugar… FOR EIGHT LOAFS OF BANANA BREAD.
And no, the four sticks of butter did not tip me off a moment earlier when I added them.
And Dad, I can just picture you reading this at your computer and rubbing that spot on your head again.
Well, I wanted to share some banana bread with a family from church, and now not one, not two… but SEVEN families can be blessed! What banana bread joy I have created with my non-math doing brain.
And this really is a wonderful day, because my banana bread may just be the crowning glory of all my lifetime achievements… especially if my children turn out rotten!