Pretty awesome, early morning of fruit pizza, babies, cinnamon rolls, rain drizzling, Â half hearted balloons inflating, and nearly all the people I love in this lovely world.
I sincerely treasure these days.
food, crochet, merriment
I have no earthly idea why I have never posted this particular recipe before now.
Most likely, it’s because I haven’t actually baked homemade bread since my boys were in their teens–and that–was a million years ago.
So, it was quite a lovely exercise to pull out my daddy’s old bread pans and the ancient bread cookbook–that was written in the stone age, before microwaves, dough hooks, and bread machines–and show myself that a pretty little loaf of the most scrumptious bread, can indeed be made without all of that fal-da-rall.
I’m really good at run-on sentences. Be brave.
I was waiting around, hoping to find my “I’ll-knead-that-for-you-ma’am” mixer–when it dawned on me that people have been making bread for a very long time, without a mixer.
Der.
Silly me.
How does it taste, you ask? This stuff is light and fluffy with just the right amount of crusty, chewyness around the edges, that’s liable to make your eyes roll back in your head.
That’s how it tastes. Uh-huh.
I’m not kidding.
You’ll need to sit down for this.
You can thank me later.
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Our sweet Dane and Kortney have been away…
in far, far off China…
for nearly a year now.
They’ve been working in the preschool in Wuhan…
teaching English to the little ones there.
This week, they returned to America–at last, at LAST! They are still back east for a while but we will see them soon. Not soon enough for me, of course, but sincerely, I’m just glad to have them back on closer soil. China is just tooooo far away for this mama’s liking.
Welcome back my darlings!
Now, come home.
Heh, heh.
I have no idea why the heat of summer makes us behave like this.
We go outside and sit around in the warm evening and burn stuff. It’s weird and doesn’t really make sense.
That is…until you factor in…
this.
Yeaaaaaah.
Even the pups are hoping we accidentally drop something.
Ain’t happening poochies.
I’ve got a firm grip, baby.
Heh.
We’ve been celebrating Memorial Day, the same way for years and years. Â We take flowers to everyone we love that has passed away. We even take flowers to everyone that everyone WE love, loved. Absolutely everyone. Are you still with me?
That, my friends, is a boatload of flowers.
Then, we merrily retire to SOMEbody’s house–April’s, this time–for a anything that tastes good, potluck-type barbecue. Yummo.
We sit around and yak and tell stories and…
watch the itty-bitty kids…
and the grown-up kids play yard games…
and soak each other down with water balloons…
…and sometimes hoses.
Food. Family. Laughter. Love.
I think they’d be pleased.
Mom & Daddy…I miss you.