Banana Zucchini Bundt Cake

I’m a big time control freak planner. I’ve written about this compulsion before. I like knowing what’s going to happen and when. I make lists of my lists and multiple copies of my work schedule every week. Nevermind that my to-do list is never done and I sometimes spread myself too thin when it comes to scheduling appointments, I am what I am. I am a planner.

Usually.

Lately, though, my baking hasn’t been as structured as I would like. I am forgetting canisters in cupboards or neglecting to gather all my tools in one place or not preheating the oven before I begin. I just feel scatterbrained and harried, often working with too many ideas and too little time. It’s been maddening to feel so unorganized in a space that I am usually so comfortable in, doing an activity that is usually so effortless and enjoyable. It had to stop.

I knew I needed a plan.

I knew I needed my bundt pan.

Strawberry Jam Oatmeal Cake

I accidentally made a cake. Yeah, that happened.

It was a delicious accident, but an accident nonetheless. This cake was supposed to be a take on homemade Fig Newtons, clearly that didn’t work out. Luckily enough for my appetite friends, this cake turned out tastier than any Fig Newton I've ever had.

Initially I wanted a whole wheat fruit filled bar that was a cross between a granola bar and a cookie. I wanted oats in them, but I didn’t want a lot of that “oaty” texture. To solve that problem I used one of my new kitchen toys I got for Christmas and made my own version of oat flour by grinding up some old fashioned oats. I was on a roll.

Swedish Visiting Cake

I posted no Thursday Things last week. There were no Things for me to post about last Thursday. Instead, there were doctor’s appointments, ice packs, and tears.

I woke up Thursday morning and could barely move. And when I did, the amount of pain I felt made me want to never attempt to move again. I didn’t know what was going on and I didn’t know what to do.

After multiple, painful visits to the doctor I was told I have a pinched disk in my neck, a by-product of the workouts that I do. The doctor gave me some medication and said that all I could really do was take it easy and wait for it to calm down. I was miserable.

Why I am telling you all of this? You don’t come here for my sob stories. You come here for butter and sugar and pictures of tasty treats that I put in my face. We’ll get there.