a real donut factory
I love factories.
The other day I mentioned that at our house we joke that we go to work "making donuts" when in fact we work at home. But we recently visited a real, live donut factory, thanks to some dear friends of ours.
Here's a pic of one of the many donut racks -- these are sour cream.
Our host would casually stick her hand into large machines, racks, or sugar-dusters, and pull out sugar-dusted, or chocolate, or jam-filled donuts for the children to "try". My kids, being deprived of donuts in everyday life, would not "try" and toss, but consumed each one completely, with concentration. The kids (in ecstasy) ate about four donuts each within an hour-long period. Meanwhile, I enjoyed the scent of frying sweet dough. And for a while, envied the simple work mission. Mission: make some nice donuts.
Nothing complex, like -- "Mission: Research details then work out a timeline for delivery of a written proposal and review said proposal with corrections as per boss then translate that into a power point with appropriate music....." Ugh.
Nope.
Just good sugary work. Make some donuts. Cover 'em with sugar. Dip some in chocolate, sure, if you feel that way. Or stand at the cream-puff-cream-filling machine and make sure they all look nice.
I know I'm romanticizing tough factory work, but that day it sure seemed simple and appealing. I know, I'm nuts.
The other day I mentioned that at our house we joke that we go to work "making donuts" when in fact we work at home. But we recently visited a real, live donut factory, thanks to some dear friends of ours.
Here's a pic of one of the many donut racks -- these are sour cream.
Our host would casually stick her hand into large machines, racks, or sugar-dusters, and pull out sugar-dusted, or chocolate, or jam-filled donuts for the children to "try". My kids, being deprived of donuts in everyday life, would not "try" and toss, but consumed each one completely, with concentration. The kids (in ecstasy) ate about four donuts each within an hour-long period. Meanwhile, I enjoyed the scent of frying sweet dough. And for a while, envied the simple work mission. Mission: make some nice donuts.
Nothing complex, like -- "Mission: Research details then work out a timeline for delivery of a written proposal and review said proposal with corrections as per boss then translate that into a power point with appropriate music....." Ugh.
Nope.
Just good sugary work. Make some donuts. Cover 'em with sugar. Dip some in chocolate, sure, if you feel that way. Or stand at the cream-puff-cream-filling machine and make sure they all look nice.
I know I'm romanticizing tough factory work, but that day it sure seemed simple and appealing. I know, I'm nuts.
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