I feel the need for old friends, for my mum, for silence, for warmth, for gentleness!
I am feeling the strain a little this week- small noisy folk, a permanently messy house, demands and expectations, recession and a miserable bank balance. It all takes its toll doesn't it?
So I retreated to the kitchen, albeit with the small, noisy folk in tow, to make bread. I am unsure of the reasoning but the feeling and act are so right. When a little blue, bread making is so soothing. Does it tap into an age old process that speaks to our primal selves? Does it make us feel like we are caring for others and so by extension, ourselves? Or is it simply that it allows us to, just for little while, zone out? (or is it the lull of the perfect food, bread warm from the oven? Could there be anything more nuturing?)
The house is still messy but it smells lovely; the small folk still unbelievable noisy (is it hypersensitivity on my part?) but they have had a nice time making truck rolls; my friends and mum are still far away but they were all thought of today! There are warm bread rolls, ready for a burger dinner and soon it will be the off duty hours!
I miss you x
P.S. My lovely friend Devon, tells me that a pan of water in the oven while you cook bread makes for wonderful bread!