life feels good today
Of course saying that makes me feel like I have just invited disaster.
But.
1. Woke up this morning without an alarm clock. How nice it is to feel rested in the morning.
2. The mom cardinal spotted me when I went outside. She gave me a nice good morning chirp.
I have been baking bread each morning. I love the process of kneading the dough. I used to be really intimidated by the idea of making my own bread. So I watched some youtube videos. I had no idea that bakers had such idiosyncratic techniques. Some are just brutal. They slam the dough around. I admit: the violence made me avert my eyes a bit. Others are methodical and quiet: gently pushing and molding the dough. They have the patience of Buddhist saints. Seeing that variety helped me get over feeling intimidated.
Kneading the dough this morning left me feeling really calm. Like there is some order to the universe. I love witnessing kitchen transformations. Last night we made a lemon meringue pie and I pointed out to Lyndon that you can predict the actual moment the liquid reaches the boiling point: it will suddenly become translucent and instantly very thick. If you stop stirring you will even see the first bubble form. And then pop. Isn't that kind of magical?
It was a bit like that when I was kneading the bread dough this morning. The mixture starts out as a gloppy mess but before you know it, it starts to firm up and feel like it is really alive. It kind of felt like holding a baby's bottom! I guess I must be the Igor kind of baker. I don't slam the dough around. I haven't quite turned kneading dough into a meditation. I am more likely to start maniacally crowing, "It's alive! It's alive!"
But.
1. Woke up this morning without an alarm clock. How nice it is to feel rested in the morning.
2. The mom cardinal spotted me when I went outside. She gave me a nice good morning chirp.
I have been baking bread each morning. I love the process of kneading the dough. I used to be really intimidated by the idea of making my own bread. So I watched some youtube videos. I had no idea that bakers had such idiosyncratic techniques. Some are just brutal. They slam the dough around. I admit: the violence made me avert my eyes a bit. Others are methodical and quiet: gently pushing and molding the dough. They have the patience of Buddhist saints. Seeing that variety helped me get over feeling intimidated.
Kneading the dough this morning left me feeling really calm. Like there is some order to the universe. I love witnessing kitchen transformations. Last night we made a lemon meringue pie and I pointed out to Lyndon that you can predict the actual moment the liquid reaches the boiling point: it will suddenly become translucent and instantly very thick. If you stop stirring you will even see the first bubble form. And then pop. Isn't that kind of magical?
It was a bit like that when I was kneading the bread dough this morning. The mixture starts out as a gloppy mess but before you know it, it starts to firm up and feel like it is really alive. It kind of felt like holding a baby's bottom! I guess I must be the Igor kind of baker. I don't slam the dough around. I haven't quite turned kneading dough into a meditation. I am more likely to start maniacally crowing, "It's alive! It's alive!"