OK, so last night was Pancake Tuesday, AKA Shrove Tuesday, AKA Mardi Gras, AKA Fat Tuesday. Traditionally, this day marks the 40-day lead up to Easter and the beginning of Lent on the Christian calendar. Here is a nifty CBC article talking about how Pancake Tuesday came about.
Growing up, we always had a pancake dinner on Pancake Tuesday, courtesy my mother, who made fantastic pancakes in an ancient electric frying pan she got as a wedding present but left in my custody when she moved to the UK over a decade ago (this piece of kitchen equipment got lost in the black hole of my divorce nearly four years ago, but I can tell you that until then, that electric frying pan was still working perfectly and I miss it a lot). Since moving back into the bosom of my family nearly three years ago, I've made a point of trying to keep the Pancake Tuesday tradition alive with my dad, brother and SIL. I make the pancakes and my dad usually provides the sausages. Yesterday was no different.
Did I make lovely, fluffy homemade pancakes as I usually do? No. I have a reason and it has to do with my laundry. My dryer is broken and I needed to use my brother and SIL's laundry facilities today. Shan picked up most of my laundry last night, but I had another load to take over on foot today, plus I didn't want to haul over pancake mix, my jug of milk, eggs, etc., so I took the path of least resistance and caved and used an "add water only" Aunt Jemima mix purchased at the local overpriced grocery store.
In the end no one cared. It was Pancake Tuesday, after all, and the point is PANCAKES. And pancakes we had in abundance. Everyone was happy, especially me. I officially think Pancake Tuesday is a way better celebration than Christmas.