Someone emailed me a question asking why I was late for breakfast, when I am a 'stay-at-home dad.' I suppose some explanation is in order. Those who have known me since high school might remember that each morning during the school year, I went to a 'Sunday school' before school. We call that seminary. The teacher and students meet from about 6:20 - 7:10 a.m. each and every day! It's a great way to start the day. Anyway, back to the 'teacher' part. That person had to be willing to teach at that INSANE hour because EVERY day he/she would be dealing with teenagers at their VERY BEST (lol) for nearly an hour, and, yes, that would be from 6:20-7:10 a.m. They needed a new teacher (for the next few years) and I was a perfect fit: I didn't have to run off to get to work and I know the materials I'll be teaching.
Today the baby didn't want to nap at his usual time. I ended up taking him on two walks today. Both times, he fell asleep during the walk. The first time, I came back home and then he woke himself up, so much for getting something done. The second time, about 2 hours later, he fell asleep during the walk so I parked myself under a tree and read a book for a while. I also met a very nice grandmother-like lady, the sponsor of the Little Free Library near my home. If you haven't found one in your neighborhood, look it up! It's great!
I did fix dinner, I suppose I'm no longer banished from the kitchen. I used the tomatoes from our garden, along with some seasoning to make our very own spaghetti sauce and the remainder of the spaghetti from a meal just the other night, along with 6 or 7 slices of yesterday's bread to make garlic toast. It was a good meal. Speaking of bread...
My wife decided to bake bread last night...Now, mind you, I made two attempts with two epic failures in the last week. I had just consigned myself to the fact that NO ONE really succeeds in baking bread in their own homes (except I remember my mother doing that when I was a kid, so I know it's possible). My wife said to me, after I tried and failed, TWICE, "You ought to try the recipe that never fails...it's the one I've used for ever. I got it from my mom."
Then, she pulls out this recipe and whips together a batch of bread dough. Wham! In the oven it goes to rise. Zip! Out it came to 'punch it down' and then to 'let it rise' again. Swish! Back into the oven (light on, of course). In a matter of minutes, it seemed, the oven was on and the bread was in baking. In time, she floats over to the oven, opens the door and pulls out each loaf, one by one, performing the ever popular, and oh so scientifically proven 'sizzle' test on each loaf pan. Those that didn't pass went back in for a few more minutes...numbers like 3 minutes or 2 minutes just sprouted from her mind...like she knew just how much longer each loaf needed for perfection...AND SHE DID!
Soon enough, out pop 6...count 'em...SIX, not five, not four, not two, SIX beautiful loaves of bread. I wasn't entirely green, but I was envious. Then the wicked thought occurred to me, 'maybe the loaves are hollow,' not in a 'wishing' sense, just the thought. So far, and we've eaten two loaves already, the bread is LIGHT and FLUFFY and FULLY FORMED and BEAUTIFUL and DELICIOUS!
I truly enjoyed the taste and texture of the warm bread she shared with me, just before heading to bed. I think she felt sorry for me...she didn't have to bake 6 loaves...but she did. She didn't rub it in or anything that her loaves were so much better than the ones I cooked, but she could have. She just noticed the accomplishment by saying, "Well, 6 loaves should last us at least a week." When I asked her if she was planning on making dinners this week too she said, "No, I think you can handle it. But, at least consider side dishes."
