What if I Just Sit
The bread is in the oven. They will be done in 30 minutes. I have a bit of a breather. Even when you think you got it together, it’s still an all day affair. There’s just no way around it . I’ve been doing this same recipe for almost 9 years. I know it by heart and the knead of it. I’ve learned to give myself over to this bake bread day. I do savour the breaks in the process.
Usually I like to sit and sip my tea and scroll or read. This morning none of that was appealing. I thought why don’t I just sit. Why don’t I? It was easier said than done. I think my brain has been slowly eroded and reprogrammed by all our technology. It felt peculiar to just sit and stare into space. I felt my impatient self talking. Now what? I can’t just sit. I felt my brain doing a scan. I don’t want to read anything. I don’t want to scroll on my iPhone. What is it that I want to do?
My head is talking to itself. I have only 30 minutes before I have to tend to the dough. Think fast. What can I do? My Jesus cross stitch flashed through my mind. But how much can I do? Now I have less than 30 minutes. Then I hear my mother’s voice talking about a bucket filling with one drop at a time. So I translated that into a stitch at a time. I dug out my Jesus kit. Once upon a few years ago, I said I would have it done by Christmas. I can make it this Christmas. I have two and a half months. It’s never too late until it is.
I get about 8 cross stitches done and my timer went off. I was just getting back into the hang of it. But I had to tend to the dough. I didn’t quite hop up right away. It was a bright sunny morning and the sunroom was warm and such a delight. I didn’t tarry long but when I walked into the kitchen, I was greeted by an over eager and over festive dough. Eeeek!
I haven’t sat much after that till now. But it’s all water under the bridge. The loaves are baked and cooling their heels on my new racks. All the clean up is done. Why don’t I just sit for a little bit longer, eh? I feel a bit done.