Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Wednesday Musings, and Bread

No matter where I call home anymore, feel like a boat under the trees. Living is strange. -C.D. Wright, from the poem "Living"

It is almost Thursday, and rather than studying feverishly for my test and paper tomorrow , trying to write my name in ancient Mayan, or preparing for my Final which is Friday which sounds somewhat cruel (FINALFRIDAY), I am instead thinking of poetry and lovely writings and how, sometimes, I just need to write a bit more creatively and not necessarily about food.

Does that ever happen to you? To strive to be a bit more than you currently just are, at least for a few minutes?

I also feel nostalgic for something I can't quite put my finger on, but I'm pretty sure it's somehow related to warmth and sunlight (got a lovely but brief glimpse today). Which brings me to contemplating the aromatic niceties of a loaf of bread and suddenly I am back to writing what I know and it seems like the poetry will have to wait for when I'm snuggled in my bed at night with my notebook.



At least I can linger over the words of a poet, spend the evening with them, mull them over between definitions on ancient civilizations of the Americas, and come to the final conclusion of "Well said, Miss Wright. Sometimes I do feel like a boat under the trees. Sometimes home is here or there, and yes. Living is strange," and that'll be that.

It doesn't hurt to have an extra encouraging thought comfort you along the way to finishing your first class in almost seven years (prehistoric ancient civilizations no less!), finishing this winter, and being proud of it all, in the end. A nice thought like baking Buttermilk Oatmeal Bread works well, and having the yeast beasties be pretty awesome at the start is always a good sign.

Seriously, this yeast was crazy and almost spilled over in about 5 minutes.

It's also rather lovely to have a ball of dough to knead your thoughts in and through and out of.



Then finally ending up this winter with a delicious bread that reminds me of my favorite maple bread, but instead this one is a bit like a toasty biscuit along the crust because of the buttermilk and honey nestled in the crumb, along with the heartiness of oatmeal. It is an ideal sandwich bread, an all-round good bread, and I'd like to share a nice and dense slice with you.

Please don't laugh too hard at the shape of my bread...I lost my bread pan and used a soup pot instead. 




To March being here, finally, and to your own almost-spring Wednesday night musings.  And of course, to Buttermilk Oatmeal Bread.

1 comment:

DC said...

the smell of that bread. The taste of it while out of the oven, while steam was popping up in the air...come back again!