Bread

The rain clouds have parted to reveal the biggest, brightest, bluest sky and the wind is whispering ever so softly to the trees, which are alive with feathered musicians. It’s our last full day in the mountains and I’m trying to soak in every last peaceful detail. I’ve opened all the windows so it feels as if I’m in the forest, without needing to swat at the gnats. 

Just down the hall, our youngest son, Colton, is playing football with my husband on the Playstation. Colton is our most competitive child and he’s wound really tight. He’s always excited about something, with bulging little neck veins and a loud, passionate voice. I often describe him as a boy whose hair is on fire. Since school dismissed last week, he’s been wearing a strand of orange Mardi Gras beads, everywhere. This has been a new look for him and I’m pretty sure he’s only removed them to shower and sleep. 

Rustled from my peace and tranquility by the chaos down the hall, I got up to check on “the boys”.  There’s been shouting, yelling, whistling, clapping and crying coming from that room for the last hour. When I walked in, little Mr. Mardi Gras was sobbing with his head under the covers while the much larger “boy” stood victorious, arms outstretched above his head. It’s always fun and games until somebody loses. I closed the door and went back to my room.

One of my favorite things about coming north is that my husband, while not busy making the smaller ones cry, does all the cooking and kitchen clean up. It’s a beautiful thing. Yesterday, we all headed to town to get some groceries for the weekend. One of the things that my husband said he “needed” was a bread maker. He has talked about getting a bread maker for years. At home, I am the chef and the maid, with no interest in making bread. Up here, he has turned the tables and bread he will make. I admit, while we were in the store, I attempted to discourage him from getting the bread maker. He made no effort to listen, as if I wasn’t even there. Victorious, he proudly drove off with his bread maker.

He made his first loaf last night with dinner.  It was delicious and I’m arguably the bread maker’s biggest fan. This morning, he made Hawaiian Sweet Bread. It was “the bomb” as our kids would say. As we were gathered around the table inhaling the sweet bread, I asked, “Why on earth haven’t you made bread before this?” The kids all chimed in to help, “Yea, dad. This is great. Why haven't you made bread before?”

He just looked at me. I smiled. 

Comments

[Kristi Lockhorn]

Hi Sheila. I enjoy reading your posts, as they are a nice "break" in the day...thanks for sharing such great stories! Take good care and tell everyone I said hello! -Kristi

[Sylvie]

My dear Sheila... it is so nice to read about you and your lovely family. You bring a fresh breeze to my day. I will read you every day. And by the way, you are sooooo right about Melissa... Most of the time, I see her when I am in a hurry, did not had time to take a shower, do my hair and makeup... but it's always, always a pleasure to see her. I am so happy I know both of you. Sylvie

[S]

Thanks for checking in, Kristi! Hope you'll enjoy keeping up with us over the summer. It's so good to hear from you!

[S]

Sylvie, Has anyone ever seen Melissa without her looking so put together? I don't think so. I'm so glad you checked in and I'll try to post something everyday....I'm already behind and we're only a few days into summer - the story of my life. See you soon!