**Sugarcube Corner, Ponyville, Equestria**
**Early Morning, 004 Summer CC**
**Chiffon Swirl**

My sister Lemon Chiffon did her job well last night to clean and close the bakery. She should be coming in to help just after the lunch rush today like usual.

The first thing I do when I get into my bakery is to get the fire going in a hearth I use for a certain task. This little side-oven is separate from the brick oven and thaumic ovens for baking. Preheating those by turning a few dials is quite convenient. Despite it being Summer and the kitchen already having plenty of heat, I also need a steady supply of ash for various ingredients in the bakery.

It is good to save ash. It used for more than soil additives. Some ponies will buy the ash and process it. Then, other ponies can buy that and turn those ‘processings’ into other things like soap. Just about every town has a family like the Berries who are quite the chemists when it comes to juices, ash, and such. My dam has been dabbling with soaps for the spa she’s establishing, but I have different needs for my ashes.

I make special ashes from dried beans husks and stalks, grain chafes, fibrous vegetable husks, fruit skins, and sea plants -if I can get any of those. Every now and then, I’m able to get ahold of some giant banana skins which are pretty good additives.

A few barrels’ worth nearly comes to a celestial tonne and can take a whole year to collect. I send my special ashes by train to a town a little ways west and north from here called Salt Lick. There is a mare, Sodium Fine, who buys these kinds of ashes and purifies them with water, filters, and heat. One of the Riches helped me set up this arrangement. Ms. Fine will also combine them with some ground up local rock salt from and limestone powder from another town south of Salt Lick called Rockville.

I buy back a portion of the resulting dust mixture to use in the Sugarcube Corner.

I could probably do some of that myself and save more bits, but it takes time; and I’d rather spend more time on the baking side of having a bakery than the refinement of ingredients. After all, I don’t grind the grains into flours; I don’t process vegetables, fruits, syrups or honeys into sugars most of the time; I don’t mine or grind minerals; and I don’t desalinate ocean water.

The presence of the railways increased the lives of ponies considerably. The Flowers, for example, can send bundles of unused stalks to have their fibres extracted and converted into yarns and threads. Before, the extra plant matter would have been composted.

If I were born a few generations ago when ponies like Granny Smith were little fillies, before the trains were established, I would only have two leavening options available to me instead of a hoofful and only a fraction of the ingredients.

In addition to juices, the Berries sell powdered wine crystals that form in their juice casks. I buy as much of the biproduct as they let me. Some of it, I will mix into egg whites to stabilize meringues; but most of it, I’ll combine with a few other dry ingredients like the one I get shipped back from Salt Lick.

My sire taught me about these things he learned from his cooking tours in Prance; so, it’s not exactly a ‘secret’ recipe, but I have found that various cakes and cupcakes really soften up with those powders.

In a warm place in the kitchen but not too warm, I find one of my special jars. Every good baker has at least one of these. Removing some cloth lids to reveal the frothy and activated substances, I find what is left of this week’s key ingredients.

I have several of these mixtures for various purposes and had to test every kind of grain and sugar I could find to get the ones I like the most. Some of these use local fruit juices like pear or apple. Pear Butter suggested this once, and I experimented with dozens of combinations since.

Other types of fruit sugars tend to also add colors which can be good, too, when presentation calls for it. Vegetable sugars are not bad either depending on what I could be cooking. Right now, I have one of pear and another of carrot.

It is summer, so the most available grain is a local winter wheat. Summer wheat is being planted now. Barley will used intermittently depending on availability. These stay in the driest pantry I have.

In the back of the kitchen, by the rear exit, there is a small box built into the wall. There is a door on the inside and one on the outside. I open the side available to me to reveal a few bottles of milk freshly collected within the hour. I put one bottle next to my ingredient collection and the others in the ice box for later.

The bovines are cordial enough, but they don’t usually want to do more than walk around their fields. Pear Butter used to have some contracts with a few, but I think her sire let those expire while she was away. Bright Mac has a few and so does Carrot Cake.

With my summer starters, leavening powders, other ingredients, and kitchen ready, I will be preparing some viennoiserie-style jam pastries, pancakes with butter and syrup, and some baguettes for the breakfast rush today. Maybe I can get something frosted ready for lunch… Ooh~ or that ‘liquid cupcake’ idea from yesterday.

I am choosing these, because none of these mixtures should need a lot of resting time; and my late start this morning demands products on the quicker side of my repertoire. I will also make several sandwich loaves as ovens become available until the lunch rush starts.

And then I will have a chat with my sister.

**Perfect Pear Orchard, Ponyville, Equestria**
**Lunch, 004 Summer CC**
**Silly Pear**

The stallion got some oatmeal for me and himself with softened fruit bits. I haven’t gotten too many solids, but I appreciate the tastes and textures. I suppose I’m used to nursing, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t realize it is a little weird.

We didn’t sit in silence as we ate. Well, I did; he talked a bit.

He said things like, <<“Ah don’t know if you’ll get bored when we bring the pears to town to sell; so, Ah’ll bring yer book just in case.”>>

And, <<“Ah ‘preciate you keepin’ distant from those tools earlier. Ah s’pose most foals would want to watch the sticks spin, but you were fine playing with the sticks themselves. That really helped, Silly…”>> I understood the next part, “Thank you.”

After wiggling his ears a bit, he added, <<“Sounds like yer mother ain’t stoppin’ fer lunch just yet, bless her, but she did leave us a loaded cart. Right on time.”>>

I was concentrating on using the utensil. Operating the spoon was a lot easier than lifting those sticks. I surprise even myself with how good I am at spoons -a master right here.

He even complimented me, <<“Ah think you got less than half of that bowl in yer mouth.”>>

I showed gratitude for his words, “Thank you.”

He sets a small cup of milk down in front of me saying, <<“Ah’m, gonna get you a towel.”>>

**Ponyville, Equestria**
**After Lunch, 004 Summer CC**
**Grand Pear**

After I helped clean me and Silly from lunch, he started to get sleepy; so, I let me ride in the cart. It had a bunch of buckets full of pears, but there was a spot up front he could lay down in. The cart wasn’t filled to capacity, but my girl did a good job.

I strapped in and pulled the cart; despite there being little hills going up and down, the familiar road has an overall slight downward grade from the house but trends up again after we crossed a little bridge over the Little Pony into Ponyville.

I pull the wagon past a few houses until we came to a small structure set apart from the town’s standard residential and commercial buildings. It consists of four vertical posts and four crossbeams. The smithy nearby has a mare sitting outside reading.

She looks up when I park the cart and unhook myself and says, “Well, howdy there, Grand Pear! Seems like it’s been a while. Anything I can do fer you?”

I answer, “Nice to see you too, Hammer Down. Just using the shoeing stocks.”

She asks, “Need any help?”

I shake my head, “Ah don’t reckon so. Fixin’ up this colt with his mother’s old shoes.”

She raises a brow, “Colt? Mother? Who we talkin’ ‘bout here?” And she stretches her neck to get a look at him. I gently lift him by the scruff, and he mumbles as I bring him over to the stocks.

After setting him down softly, I raise my head up high, “This here’s mah first grandfoal, Silvanus or Silly Pear.”

Hammer blinks a few times registering what I just said and looks away briefly, whispering, “So, it is true.”

“‘Course he is. Butter’s mah filly, and he’s hers. That makes him mah grandfoal,” I state as I fetch the old shoes and some tools from a cloth bag amongst the baskets of fruit.

Shoes are protective equipment that are meant to be temporary most of the time. One can nail them on, but growing foals don’t need that. After trimming and leveling the area for the accessories, Hammer will have some adhesive that should last a Season or two. Then, we’ll check sizes again.

Richer ponies who don’t have to abuse their hooves as hard as farmponies or other labor-intensive professions can get shoes made of softer materials that clip on and off. I saw Princess Celestia once, and she wears a set of boots. I don’t know what they’re made of, but they’re probably enchanted with magic.

She shakes her head from a some thoughts and asks, “His first?” I nod, and she says, “Well, it’s good he’s sleepin’. Some foals don’t like to sit still or cry like when they get their mane cut the first time. Need any shoe glue?”

I give her a thankful smile, “Got some pears in it fer ya.”

**The Market, Ponyville, Equestria**
**After Lunch, 004 Summer CC**
**Silly Pear**

I wake up after a few bumps to find the stallion setting up a tarp above the parked cart. We are in that mostly open and circular part of town that mom brought me through yesterday. There are other stalls set up similarly to ours.

Yawning, I stretch and stand up but the wood doesn’t sound the same when I step on it. My hooves are louder.

Hehe, hyoo~vz.

I should test this out; but just as I start getting a good rhythm going, that stallion stops me, <<“Okay, Silly. Yer shoes are on. You don’t need to let the whole town know right this instant.”>>

Most of the ponies around seem pretty happy.

He picks me up and sets me down, and says something, <<“Ah’m going to be sellin’ some pears now. You just have to stay near. Understand?”>> But when I touched down on the hard ground, I noticed a click from my hooves.

I checked to make sure there wasn’t anything strange underhoof, and the ground was of the same substance I assume it ought to be. But, then, I notice a silver-grey against my black nubs. Turning one forehoof over to look at it, I think something has changed. There is some type of metal crowning on my hooves.

Hyoo~vz.

A quick shake shows whatever these are will not come off easily. My extremities aren’t noticeably heavier with these attachments. They’re thicker than foil but not as substantial as iron tossing shoes. There are ponies with hefty ones, but it looks like most ponies generally just have thin ones like these now that I look around. I don’t get the impression that they’re weak, though.

I was able to manipulate those sticks to a degree without them before, and it appears that I can pick up a pebble here without any inhibition. There is a soft patch of road dust nearby. I wonder if I can focus this grabber on a single point?

I am able to poke different spots in the dirt when thinking about it, but cannot draw multiple lines at once. I can seem to alter the width of this effect on the dirt; it’s like the difference between drawing with a twig or scooping with a trowel.

If I my limb terminated in a paw full of phalanges, then I could -in theory- draw with half a dozen at a time or more even though there would be severe limitations to the available designs by using them all at once; one or two on each arm would be closer to ideal. Even when typing, one would typically only strike a single key at a time regardless of the speed of one’s technique.

Actually, can I type? Setting both of my forehooves just barely touching the ground, I just need to pretend this dirt is a keyboard for a moment.

… Just need to imagine some ‘home keys.’

D-I-D_Y-O-U_G-E-T_T-H-E_M-E-M-O-?_W-E-’-R-E_P-U-T-T-I-N-G_T-H-E_N-E-W_C-O-V-E-R-S-H-E-E-T-S_O-N_A-L-L_T-H-E_T-P-S_R-E-P-O-R-T-S…

Whether I got that right or not doesn’t really matter. It’s just a hoof-grip exercise.

Moving my hooves aside to view my handiwork -hoofy work? Hoof work?- reveals several little divots that I was able to press. The easiest places to make impressions was near the edge of the hard and soft part of my hoof, but I could do some with the middle underhoof… frog? Fascinating.

Perhaps I can practice this? Certainly, it should be possible as I have some memory of stringed instruments existing Here. This would almost require multiple strings to be held when creating chords -unless that is considered a rare ability. I never learned one of those Before; I wouldn’t mind picking up a skill like that.

<<“Hello?”>>

I look up from playing in the dirt to see a mare looking for somepony near the fruit stand. I look around to see the stallion sleeping. Looks like he was pretty tired, too. Not a problem!

With the help of my wings, I jump up onto the counter, “Ugh,” missed a little bit. Just have to climb a little. There we go.

I get over to the center of the counter of the display and sit down. She just looked at me with an expression of mild curiosity.

I’ve never been in sales before, but how hard can it be? Customer wants what I have. I give it to the customer. The customer gives me something, and -bam- that’s a sale.

So, I professionally pick up one of the -whoops. Dropped it. So, I professionally pick up another pear, and hold it out to the mare.

“What,” I say. I’m pretty sure these are the pony version of ‘pears,’ but I don’t know the pony word for them.

She blinks a few times before giggling, <<“Are you selling me a pear, little colt? I need a few. How’s about ten bits for a dozen?”>>

I don’t know what she said, but she put some little coins on the counter. I picked one up and gave it a little bite to make sure it’s not a wooden forgery. After my quick inspection, I see that it is okay; so I said, “Thank you,” and started to put them in a little bucket on the counter that looks like it already has some tips in it.

She raises an eyebrow and smirks humorously, <<“Thank you, too.”>>

Several other ponies started to make their way over.

**Sugarcube Corner, Ponyville, Equestria**
**After Lunch, 004 Summer CC**
**Chiffon Swirl**

As the lunch rush starts to slow down, my sister, Lemon Blossom, comes in to the bakery to do her part to wrap up the business this afternoon. She was smiling and walking so happily that I could almost feel the sun reflecting off her yellow coat.

I say to her, "You're looking happy."

She nods, "Mmhm! I got to make a new friend last night."

"Who?" I ask.

She says, "A mare named Charoite Star. She brought her filly here yesterday to see Silly."

As a sister, I should inquire, "How serious is it?"

She shrugs as she gets some of the cleaning supplies, "We just started being friends. So, it's hard to say," and then she changes the subject, "But you don't really look like you want to know about my happenings."

I sigh, "I need some older sister advice."

She looks at me and sets a broom aside, "Lay it on me."

Checking to make sure there aren't any eavesdropping customers, I explain what happened yesterday. She was there when Carrot ran away after seeing my bedroom clothes; but she didn't see me go over to see him, panic, and run away. I don't tell her all the details of last night's snuggling, but I do let her know it was amazing. And finally, I tell her that Pear Butter rightly tasked me to settle my heart with Carrot.

I conclude, "Was I wrong?"

Lemon listened patiently and attentively, "Well, you're not in a committed herd of your own, and you got permission to join them; so, you're not intruding on their friendship, but what they have doesn't sound like your normal friendship. Sounds more like a mare's heat-dream crossed with a honeymoon. And it's not like you're going around snuggling just anypony." She thinks for a moment, "Do you think you were wrong?"

"No," I say, "I didn't join them last night just because it was an opportunity to snuggle; although, I really wanted an opportunity to snuggle with somepony but not with just anypony..." I sigh as I try to remember the things our dam taught us about these things. "Lemon, what's the difference between friendship and love?"

She shrugs, "You can't love somepony you're not friends with," and then asks, “Who do you think you would be happier with?”

I say the same thing any mare would say, “Any mare would be happy to be with any stallion.”

My sister shoots that down right away, “I didn’t ask that. I asked who you would be happier with. You have right now what few mares ever get: a choice between two stallions.”

I slump and groan, “Can’t I have both?”

“Realistically?” She asks.

I can only respond with a sigh. I know what is realistic, and it is not realistic for one mare to be allowed two stallions. Ponies can live for a long time, but a mare might only ever get to spend a total of a few days with a stallion over that lifetime. I think stallions in Ponyville are more friendly than those in the big cities and are not likely to leave somemare all alone, though.

“Alright," Lemon says, "Let’s do a little experiment.”

I perk up, “An experiment?”

She answers, “Yes," and explains, "I’ll ask you a few questions, and you answer as fast as you can without thinking about the answer. Just let your instincts take over.”

I takes a moment for this to register, “… Okay? This sounds like a party game, but I'll try it."

She starts right away, “What’s your name?”

I deadpan, “Seriously?”

“Okay," she sighs, "I know you’re not trying right now, because your name is not, ‘Seriously.’”

"Ugh."

She restarts, “Try again. Be honest and be fast." Okay. I can do this. "What’s your name?”

I say, “Chiffon Swirl.”

She asks, “What’s your favorite color?”

I say, “Pink.”

Lemon asks, “What’s two plus two?”

I answer, “Four.”

She wonders, “Why did you buy those socks and underwears?”

Without thinking, I reply, “I wanted to build up my confidence by feeling desirable.”

She follows up, “Desirable for who?”

I say, “Carrot.”

She asks, “You have a crush on Carrot?”

I stutter, “Y- yes.”

Lemon states, “You’re hesitating.”

I answer, “Of course. This is embarrassing.”

But my sister does not slow down, “Do you have a crush on anypony else?”

I say, “Yes.”

She asks, “Bright Mac?”

I confess, “Yes.”

She persists, “When did that start?”

I tell her, “Last night.”

Lemon wonders, “Why? Or should I ask, ‘How?’”

I can feel my cheeks heating up, “He b- bucks really good, and I'm not nervous around him.”

“Really?” She asks almost as though she doesn't believe me. I reply with a silent nod, so she asks more, “Are you crushing on anypony else?”

"Y- yes," I say. Celestia, this is getting tough.

But Lemon isn't slowing down, “Who?”

“Pear... B- Butter.”

“Really?” Now she really doesn't believe me.

“Yes,” I answer.

She keeps going, “Also from last night?”

I say, “Yes.”

She asks, “Same reasons?”

“Mostly," I profess.

She raises a brow at that but then delivers the toughest blow, “Who will make you happier: Carrot or Mac?”

Author's Note

It took a solid day to research DIY non-biological leavening agents (i.e. baking soda) and is a major reason why this chapter came out so late. The search algorithms wanted me to believe that Substance A is produced when you add Substance B; but to make Substance B, you need Substance A. Holy h3ll, B@man. I know for a fact that these things were made by people in their homes just a few generations ago, but to think that the knowledge has been scrubbed is staggering. I know this, because I went to a few colonial museums back in the day where the process was explained; but I was your average teenager at the time and didn’t take detailed mental notes. It involved separating the lumps from the dust, adding water to the dust, and then pouring the ash water into barrels of hay where the hay acted as a rudimentary filter. There is a strong chance that my description on how to process soda ash (sodium carbonate) into baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) and also how to make cream of tartar (potassium bitartrate) probably have some major missing pieces. But I thought it was important to explain that ponies to have a way to make things besides hardtack. Further, Pinkie does tell Gilda that baking powder (soda + tartar = bp) was the ingredient missing from her scones in S05E08, "The Lost Treasure of Griffonstone."

The primary math system in Equestria is not a Base-10 system, because Seven is a more magical number. So, even in a Base-7, 14, 21, etc. I am pretty sure 2+2 still equals 4 in all of those.

I have a small partial chapter (16.99) that would go on the tail-end of this one. It shouldn't take too long to get that out this weekend sometime, but I'm sleepy and an emotional cliffhanger seems like a good idea in the moment.

What do you think Chiffon Swirl should do?