mea culpa

All week I have been feeling bad about the fact that last week’s wholemeal spelt bread was too sour, it was a little sourer than usual as I tasted it for breakfast before going out to market (and on to The Harvest fair in Drumshambo) last saturday but over the week it just got worse. Apologies, all, mine. As I feel that my ability to make the bread I make is something of a magic thing I have to be able to also allow myself to humanly fail sometimes.

We were very tired but satisfied. We travelled to Poland, for a wonderful wedding, four of us packed into the tiniest car available, 3956 km excluding what the boat travelled for us, applied geography and assorted tastings of local goods. Now we are back to home schooling, making hay while the sun shines, if we manage some hay cocks, and on monday we are joining the global climate wake up call in dublin, dressed in red at 12.18 pm on O’Connell street, at the junction with North Earl street. There are hundreds and hundreds of similar events organized around the world, perhaps you can join one, too. We are all together in this, the people who had to eat sourer bread and the ones who did not.

One comment

  1. Salut ma belle,
    Nous voila au sud sous le pluie tropicale, the first in 3 months so badly needed mais – comme meme, we are not used to this humidite! You would be very amused by the school system here if you remember it, the boys are grappling with compulsory curly french writing comme il faut but otherwise settling in pretty well, it’s good to see your bread and thoughts here,

    Ruth xx

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