I have been bothered lately by how few REAL life skills I have. If suddenly there was no Safeway or IGA or Harry’s Foods (sniff, sniff), how would I eat? Honestly, I would starve. So I have been striving to learn about gardening, canning, baking, and other skills which everybody used to know.
This has been both fun and frustrating. But mostly fun. So yesterday I decided I should at least attempt to make a dietary staple of mine – a loaf of bread.
I don’t actually know anybody who makes bread. Or if they do, I don’t know that I know. So I grabbed an old Mennonite cookbook and went at ‘er.
And, to my surprise, they turned out. 4 loaves (well, 3 and a little one). They rose. They baked. Were a bit dark and crunchy, but were basically very edible and tasty. I am so pleased with myself. This is a really weird life marker, but it is important to me.
I took pictures of my wonderful loaves (mental note: don’t say that out loud). It’s a bit of a drama loading them onto my work computer, so I am having trouble sharing them with you. I’ll give you an idea of what it looks like:
That’s a bit deceptive. Here is an artist’s drawing of my loaves:
That’s more like it. So thanks for reading my tale of the loaves. One step closer to being a truly self-sufficient human being. Yay!