Up to my armpits in flour and dirt (but not at the same time)

There was a moment today when I thought I felt bored. The moment came after a really busy morning. Firstly the three of us went for a very nice breakfast at Couture (where I came over all wistful about education and pondered going back to college), then Scarlett and I fed the ducks and wandered around Christchurch Park with Mum and Archie. Once home, with Scarlett napping, I thought I would explore the idea of (more) education but was thwarted at the first hurdle - subject - so gave up, felt cross and then diagnosed bored as a long afternoon of very little stretched ahead of me.

Thankfully a little voice in my head reminded me 'only the boring get bored', just in the nick of time. As it was a really lovely day today we headed off to the allotment to check in on the desert landscape.








I love squash so am very excited about this little fellow (and his two small friends).

After we were both covered in dust, dry grass and green algae (from the water trough) along with a thistle scratch or two we headed home to do a spot of baking.


I just love my elderly Good HouseKeeping book. It belonged to my grandfather, so is highly sentimental, but it also offers up the simplest, easiest and (most importantly) reliable recipes.

I'm not going to bang on about the delights of kneading dough or the wonders of seeing your doughy dumplings turn into scones and rolls as I have found a lovely quote that says it all (see below) but look at my rolls proving in the summer sun - all that growth in just ten minutes.



Today I truly embraced being a stay-at-home Mum, perhaps for the first time, and although there was paid work to be done, I found peace in some dough, a baby squash and rolling around on the carpet tickling my little girl.


“Breadbaking is one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world's sweetest smells...there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel. that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.”M. F. K. Fisher, The Art of Eating

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