Yesterday I went out in the rain (yay rain, not snow!) and returned a lot of food books to the library that I thought would give me inspiration for writing my foodie memoir. They didn’t. They just showed me that what I am trying to do, is very unusual. Normally that would tell me I am on the right track. Lately, I am wondering if that is the case.
The problem with looking back so much is you can get lost. Sometimes lost is a reprieve from facing the future. I must admit, I fear my future. Unlike any other time in my life.
So I knead dough. Find comfort in the repetition, the knowledge that if I do everything right, this loaf will hopefully be edible. Maybe even better than just sustenance.
I will have food to eat after my efforts.
I need to stand back and appreciate where I am, right now, in the present. How lucky I am to have a kitchen in this part of the universe, in this moment of my life.