On the Third Try He Rose Again for the First Time

Work is taking up too much of my time today. I failed to eat breakfast; lunch has come and gone without any sustenance. I have survived on tea most of the day. Although, this makes the experiment easy as no baking is required as of yet.

Just as I think I have gotten out of any baking, Brian asks if I want to give the bread making another try. I have to admit the scientist in me is ready to give it another try if for no other reason then to note today’s bread behavior. But we must be better about documenting our findings. While yesterday’s bread making was a disaster, today’s holds a glimmer of hope at least in analyzing what the heck went wrong. We decide to use the original recipe but add a bit more water and use different yeast.

While the bread it baking, we decide that it may be a good time to go egg hunting. Eden and Abbey are along for the ride, and turn out to be our lucky charms as we revisit Forget Me Not Farm and find two and a half dozen eggs. We purchase two dozen and leave the half dozen for some poor soul, not unlike us yesterday, that is in need of eggs but unable to go to the store—be it proximity, religious doctrine, or involvement in some peculiar experiment. We pass by the chickens again. They start running toward us. I decide they remember us and are just coming to introduce themselves.


Abbey goes home and Eden’s decides that she is ditching us as well (her words, not mine). On the menu for tonight is chicken/brown rice soup with sage. Normally, I would buy a rotisserie chicken from the store and use a really good brown rice you can microwave in three minutes for this go-to recipe. Not today. This time, we have to cook our own chicken and brown rice; adding at least an hour to prep/cook time of the meal. Under normal circumstances this might have frustrated me, but before I even start, I am informed of the best news; our bread is actually on the rise. I am on cloud nine.


This loaf may not be the best bread ever made, but after not having a slice for several days coupled with making it ourselves—it tastes so sweet.

While the bread is finishing up its baking cycle and the soup is simmering away, I whip up a vibrant yellow batter of Madeira cake. I pop it in the oven and take a moment to tidy up a bit. Just as the bread is taken out of the machine, the soup is done and we sit down to a wonderful dinner. As dinner is winding down, the cake is taken out of the oven. It is still too hot to eat, but I admire its crusty top almost looking like a golden crest of landscape out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. A couple of hours later while watching the Daily Show, we indulge in a couple of slices of this much needed sweet treat and a night cap of sleepy time tea. As I drift off, I can’t help appreciating those chickens for providing us with eggs.