Lately I've been baking a lot of bread. I don't know if it's the damp, cold weather, or the satisfaction of making something from scratch, but I'm finding baking bread addictive. Kneading the dough is therapeutic. The smell of fresh bread baking, the heady scent of yeast bubbling is intoxicating. Having to closely measure and check and triple check the recipe pushes other nagging thoughts away. And the taste of homemade bread... really there is nothing like it.
So despite the amount of un-risen, failed dough I've had to throw away, despite the time (and the amount of flour!) it takes, I keep on baking bread. I suppose it's a good analogy to parenting, in some ways. Time, energy, careful measurement, a fair amount of luck and good weather... and the willingness to try again another day when your efforts have failed.
Time to go make some loaves...
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