Day 2 Homemade Bread

Flour, water, yeast, butter and a bit of salt.

 Milk powder and an egg if you really want to go all out (and I always do. . .)

Out of these humble ingredients come the most glorious food in the world.

Bread.

I love bread. All kinds of bread.

 But I especially love homemade bread.

It's odd how food can become so tied to memories of people and places we love.

Bread speaks to me of my dad, son of a baker. I spent many hours in the bakery growing up and watched him make countless loaves of bread and shape bun after bun at the speed of light.

Bread speaks to me of his mom, my sweet Oma who would get up in the wee hours of the morning during weekend sleepovers just so there was piping hot bread coming out of the oven when we woke, the end piece cut just for me and slathered with butter. . .

Dad gave me a bread baking lesson at home when I was ten, but I had already had learned all I needed to know, just by watching him make loaf after loaf in the bakery.

Kneading bread and playing around until the texture is just right is such a joy for me. I feel a thrill each and every time I start a new batch.

Using my bench scraper to cut the dough brings to mind dad and his bench scraper. I weigh out my dough because I was always so fascinated with his ability to cut the dough so evenly that he almost never had to add extra bits to bring it up to the right weight. (I do. . .)

The smell of baking bread,

 the sight of it's golden crust,

 the sound of the pan banging against the butcher block counter releasing it's loaf,

 the taste of warm bread dripping with melted butter. . .

These are all the things I love about homemade bread. .

I just have to give it a little pat as it cools. . . every. single. time.

Homemade bread is a beautiful thing.

31 Day of Looking for Beauty in the Everyday

Last year I enjoyed the Nestor's 31 days series.

(Links to 31 days posts. . .)

Day 2 Homemade Bread,  Day 3 Beauty in Concrete, Day 4 Lunching with a Friend  Day 5 Beauty in fall leaves,  Day 6 An Unexpected Opportunity to Create, Day 7 The Beauty of Being a Goat at Thanksgiving
Day 8 The Beauty of Family at Thanksgiving  Day 9 Surgery Today Day 10 My Recovery Nest Day 11 Beautiful, Helpful, Big Boys  Day 12 Getting Ready For Halloween Day 13Another Sneak Peak at Concrete Leaves  Day 14 The Process. . . Concrete Leaves  Day 15 A Fall Visit to Wellington Garden Center  Day 16 The Beauty of Acreage Fresh Eggs

Day 1

This year I was determined to participate as well, because this year, I had a topic close to my heart and I was very excited (and a little scared. . .) to write about it.

This past year has not been an easy one. Approaching menopause caused my hormones to start doing a crazed version of the Hokey Pokey a few years ago, leaving me with serious anxiety as a result. (did any of you know that hot flashes are not the only symptom of changing hormones??? I sure wish I had. . .) I was having anxiety attacks out of the blue and had to constantly question whether my feelings were reasonable or  a result of the Hokey Pokey going on in my body.

Driving a bus load of school kids through one construction zone after another became a real challenge and I was so very grateful when my youngest graduated last year, as that meant the end of school fees which allowed me to retire, beginning a long held dream of  putting my Master Gardener's certificate to good use by going into business for myself.

 Of course, the fact that I was no longer in a stressful job didn't mean that the Hokey Pokeying had stopped.

 It just gave me something else to be anxious about. . .

When I left bus driving, I  left my bus kids and their parents with a  bit of a problem.  A lovely young woman was willing to drive the bus for that year but she had small children and was only able to provide a shortened version of the bus route. That meant most of the parents would have to drive to and from a common pick up point rather than getting the near door to door service they were used to.

Guilt and anxiety seem to go hand in hand for me. I spent months feeling guilty, which in turn caused more anxiety. . .

A lot of it. And not just about retiring. About everything I did.

I baked bread? But I didn't bake cookies. We ate store bought.

 I grew lettuce? But half of it ended up in the compost because I didn't make a salad with dinner. (or worse yet, I threw it into the garbage because it was quicker.)

 I started flowers from seed? But half of those ended up in the compost pile when I waited too long to transplant them.

The year I had looked forward to for so long was just. so. hard.

So I prayed. And prayed. And searched God's word. And prayed some more.

And then. . .

Slowly. . . quietly. . .  I began to see beauty again.

In the midst of a hard day something small would catch my eye, and the simple beauty of it would wash over me, leaving me certain of God's power and majesty right there in the everyday.

More and more, I would see beautiful bits of everyday:

 Seeds that sprouted. . .

  Light shining through the kitchen window, throwing a magical glow on a pot of tulips. . .

The astounding color found in the yolk of my farm fresh egg. . .

 A bear hug from one of the boys. . .

 The gleam from a freshly washed glass cake stand.

Dog walking became a favorite activity as Jada and I would jump into the truck, making a quick drive to a spot in the city filled with gracious old houses, well tended gardens and a view over the river valley.

 God spoke to me in these beautiful bits of everyday, reminding me over and over that He was in charge. He created the world and everything it and he wants and commands me to live my life joyfully, not filled with anxiety.

I look for beautiful things now.  Through the lens of my camera more often than not these days.

A few months ago God threw a new challenge my way.

 I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma.

I spent two months waiting for answers. Answers came. At least, some of them. So far so good. . . 

Next week's surgery and the resulting biopsy report a few weeks later will, God willing, give us the whole story.

Beauty in the everyday has become even more precious.

And. . .

Odd as it sounds, my anxiety has slowly slipped away to be replaced with a deep down certainty that, come what may, God is in control.

 I never was.

He never meant for me to live a life of I should and I must.

God gave me life to live to the fullest, talents to use for his glory, and love to pour out on everyone he sends my way.

However long or short that life might be.

Because really. . . any one of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow.

All we ever really have is today.

And I intend to spend  a part of every today I am given. . .

 Looking for the beautiful.

Check back each day this month as I post on Looking for Beauty in the Everyday. (at least. . . I hope I meet the challenge of posting everyday. . . !)

Oak Leaves And Acorns

I know I had said I would be posting less photography, but I spent the last two days in a classroom learning how to use Illustrator and it left me feeling as though my head might explode. (but in a good way. . .)

 As a result, Jada and I spent a couple of hours walking and taking pictures this morning to help me clear my mind. ( Of course I am the only one who took pictures. . . Jada's just never seemed all that interested. . .)

So today's post is all about the oak tree. . . (click on the pictures so you can see them full sized, they look much better that way.)

Which picture is your favorite?

I know what mine is. . .

Romantic Getaways. . .

Henry and I went on a spontaneous romantic getaway this past week end.

Looks like we weren't the only ones. . .

The Great Pickle Debacle Of 2012

I have always wanted to try pickling. We go through a fair number of pickles in the year and I thought it would be fun to give it a try.

When mom and I preserved things together we were great. (Well, she was great and I helped.)
She's been working a lot these last few years and preserving has kind of fallen by the wayside.
I am not working anymore so I wasn't entirely sure why that was but. . .  my pantry is nearly empty.

So I was quite excited last Saturday when Joyce and I spotted the 10 pound bags of pickling cucumbers.
I was pretty sure pickles were fairly basic and felt confident that I could handle it on my own.
Henry was out of town fishing for the weekend and that left me without transportation so the pickling would have to wait until Tuesday.

No problem.

It's been hot here though.  I couldn't put the cucumbers in the fridge because it was beyond full  (please tell me you know what I mean. . . every time you open the fridge door something falls out. Beyond full. That happens to you too. . . right???) so I put them in a big bowl in the basement and surrounded them with ice-packs.

No problem.

Everyday I discovered more moldy cukes but I figured I had started out with 20 pounds so there would easily be enough for a few batches of pickles.

No problem.

Tuesday came and I ran out early to pick up ice for the cooler. I thought it would keep the cucumbers cool while I processed them.
I started picking through the bowl.

Big problem. . .

The poor little cukes were either wrinkling or sprouting mold.
By the time I got to the middle of the bowl they were way past sprouting and into full blown sheets of mold.

My asthma is triggered by mold.

My compost pile has a bit more to digest today. . .

In chatting with Ev I expressed surprise at how quickly they spoiled. She chuckled, shook her head knowingly and said "I'm not surprised. . . all fresh produce has to be processed as quick as possible, there's no time to waste!"

That's when it hit me.

The reason I'm such a terrible preserver on my own is because I always think I have time to do something else first. Something more important. Baking a cake, working in the garden, a quick trip to Fort Edmonton, a little work on the computer. . . You know. . . urgent things.

So. . .

What have I learned from the Great Pickle Debacle of 2012?

I'm not 100% sure.

Of course I learned that there's no waiting until tomorrow in preserving but truthfully I already knew that, I just seem to have great difficulty believing it.

Perhaps what I've really learned is that just because I think something is awesome and important it doesn't necessarily mean that I'll automatically be good at it. Or even that I'll ever be particularly  good at it.

And that's okay. . . because no one is good at everything.

Sigh. . .

But wouldn't it be amazing if we could be?

One Track Mind. . . .

I was going through my pictures looking for something I hadn't had a chance to blog about yet.

You would not believe how many flower pictures I have!!

Nor could you even begin to imagine how many more photography class pictures I have. (Well, maybe Chandra could. . .)

It seems I have had a one track mind lately. . .

My class was finished a couple weeks ago but I wanted to keep practicing and learning, so I took a few books out of the library and settled on working through Digital Photography Essentials by Tom Ang.

Assignment one was to get a family member to say the first thing that came to mind, make a set of pictures based around the subject and then apply the approach that comes most naturally.

Jesse was appealed to and the first thing that came to his mind was birds.

Now before I show you what I did, I'd like you to think about what you would do. . .

What did you think about when you read that the assignment was to 'shoot' birds?

Probably not what I thought of. . . .

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And because my mind tends to go off on a tangent. . .

Not to worry though, my next post will not be about photography. . .

I have twenty pounds of pickling cucumbers that my friend Joyce and I picked up at the St Albert farmer's market on Saturday.

Considering the rate at which they have begun to mold in the heat despite my best efforts to cool them off, (they won't fit in the fridge) I'm pretty sure it's tomorrow or never.

I've never done pickles before.

Wish me luck! (and if any of you have any good advice on the subject. . .)

Taking An Hour To Relax. . .Visiting Fort Edmonton

I got up at 4:30 this morning, not so much because I had planned on it, but because I have been waking up around five every morning and I was fed up with lying around in bed for two hours trying to get back to sleep.
I thought I had broken free from bus driving hours but. . . no such luck.
I had a very early breakfast and took Jada out for a walk at 6:30.

It was beautiful. With all the hot, humid weather we've been having, it was a refreshing change to have to put on socks and a sweater.

I spent the next several hours on the computer working in Illustrator and then switching out to Word to make some kind of poster for {growing} wisdom's Big August Consultation Sale.

Can I tell you???

I hate not being able to do things well.

I love learning new things but I have high expectations as to how long it should take me to learn them. (No time at all. . .)

Mind you, I am mighty stubborn as well, so while I might rage at the impossiblity of working with programs like Illustrator, I will not give up until I get it right. . .

Thus the Illustrator classes I will be taking in a few weeks.

I do have a little sense however and know when to take a break. (Although my kids may disagree. . .)

By lunch time today I knew there was absolutely no way I would have my sale poster done and since today is August first and the first day of my sale, I gave it up and went with a blog post instead.

It was time to take a break.

I had gone to Fort Edmonton with Holly and Jesse last week and bought myself an annual pass, so I grabbed my camera and headed over there for a little R and R and a little practice time.

Best idea today. . .

This is what I came home with. (After a bit of editing in Picassa.  Learning Photoshop is next on the list. But not any time soon. . .)

View out of the window

Not the best picture but they were so stinking ugly I couldn't resist.  Really. . . they stank. Phew!