Thursday, January 1, 2009

Waiting for my bread to rise.

Occasionally I have freak-fits, such as when I have this uncontrollable urge to be productive and therefore deep-clean the kitchen, the shower, or my room. Or the fits where I draw everything that comes within my range of vision. Or the fits where I read for hours on end without resurfacing.

Most of the time the fits come about when I'm feeling cranky or irritable or restless. My current freak came from me trying to head off my impending depression/PMS attack since I ran out of my Zoloft.

What's the current freak-fit?


I woke up today and said, "I am going to make some bread."

And I proceeded to make white bread. (Actually, I'm still in the process. The bread won't be "riz" for another half hour.) It's terribly therapeutic for me to measure out ingredients and then pound that dough until it gets all smooth and soft. And plus it smells better than anything in the entire world.

I'm trying to decide if I'm going to braid it and cover it with a cinnamon-sugar sauce or if I'm just going to roll the cinnamon-sugar sauce up and make normal loaves. I like braiding the dough, but at the same time, it never looks as cool after it gets baked. Normal loaves aren't as pretty, but they almost look gorgeous after they come out of the oven.

Hmm. Either way I win. Bread making is therapy that's cheap AND delicious!

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