I was trying to set up a play date with a friend and her two kids. (there’s got to be a less kid-centric term than play date, but it’s not coming to me.)
Our exchange involved planning around rising bread. She needed to be home the next two hours to see her lovingly crafted starch through to the baking stage. Oh yes. I understand. Been there, many times. Let’s try a different day.
I realized that homesteading and the different life rhythms it brings is beginning to become ingrained in my being.
Has bread ever affected your plans?
(I have a new bread recipe to share soon. I never believed something could come along to replace my old standby, but this new one is so so terrific.)