I know I joked that I wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t join the herds baking bread. But, can you blame me? It was Easter Sunday, after all, and I needed to see something rise.
It should give you hope that hearts can change. My mother-in-law texted me that there’s nothing like warm bread fresh out of the oven with butter, so maybe J could pick up the ingredients the next time he went to the store. So, of course, I have crusty bread on my mind, but I settled for the old familiar mashing of three bananas with a fork in a steel bowl, promises of melted chocolate chips that linger on your fingertips and corners of your mouth (for later).
You should also know, J did some fact checking on my rant about baking bread, and it turns out that bread is not the most widely consumed food in the world. It’s rice. I told him I really don’t care, the story, yes, was about bread, but it was also not about bread at all.
Maybe it’s about how we all want to teleport to a time and place other than today, like when I hear The Temptations and I’m instantly on a pontoon boat cruising on smooth waters on Lake Gaston, my eyes are closed up to the sky and my arms are spread out on the scorching vinyl seats and I’m one ray away from a slather of aloe.
That’s how it is, we’re all just one knead away from Grandma’s kitchen.
P.S. In other news from monotony, we have spent our days washing window screens with plans to welcome the spring breeze. While wringing our rags in blackened soapy water, J says I have two voices: one for him, one for business. I smile, knowing full well I have 72 voices (some I haven’t met yet) and it will take him 72 years to discover them all.