Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Your Bathroom Will Not Implode

We have a snow day today.


Really, it should be "we cancelled school even though a two-hour delay would have been sufficient because it was icy last night ". (I do not know this. I'm only presupposing. I haven't even been outside of my house today.)

I'd really like it if the school system would not call my house, then my cell, then my husband's cell, then send me a text to let me know that school is out. Let me refrain. Obviously, I set it up that way. I would really like it if they didn't call at 5:30 in the morning to let me know that school is out for the day, because, even though this is the time I normally get up, I wouldn't mind sleeping in. At least until like 6 or something. So I laid there, wide awake, until 6:15, and then I bebopped my way out of bed. Any other day I would have slept through my alarm. Whatever.

I had big plans for today.

1. exercise
2. make bed
3. play games with kids
4. quick trip to grocery store
5. quick trip to get some balsamic vinegar
6. laundry
7. clean bathroom
8. vacuum basement
9. make bread
10. start painting cabinets in basement with chalk paint (I'll let you know how I like chalk paint if I ever get started)
11. blog

So far, I am on my way to completing five of the eleven tasks on my list. Five.

I want all eleven done.

A few months ago, I decided that all grocery store bread is crap (most grocery store food is crap, but I'm kinda stuck so I make the best of it) and I'd start making my own.

There is a Modern Family episode that I wish I could find on YouTube. Cam is going through another diet phase, and he starts going through the entire kitchen, picking up food and trashing it. Poison! he proclaims, shoving it in the trash. Toxic! he announces, holding the offending food-substance with a highbrow.

And all I remember thinking is oh, dear. I am Cam.

Making my own bread makes me feel like Ann Voskamp.

(I'm also going to make my own hamburger buns and energy bars. I'll let you know how that goes if I ever actually do it. I recently discovered through a personality assessment of sorts that I tend to be naively idealistic.)

I've been making my own bread (on occasion) for years, along with my own pizza crust, so sandwich bread and hamburger buns seem like a natural progression, am I right?

(It's yummy. And you cannot beat the way the house smells when bread is baking.)

I was charged about getting all my stuff done. Seriously. I even had the kids knead the bread (because you need to know how to do this when you make your own homemade, non-store-bought, non-polluted bread, I reasoned with them). It looked a little weird while they were kneading it, but I didn't think much of it until 45 minutes later, when it still looked like two lumps of dough sitting on my tray.

I told my kids "Hey! Maybe it'll be like whole wheat bread biscuits!"
They are not convinced.

Because I forgot to add the yeast. An essential, if you know anything about making bread.


There is a parable about yeast in the New Testament.

I'm not sure I really understand it, so I won't try to explain it to you, other than to say it's about a woman with yeast. I know there's more to the story. (FAILx2. That's what commentaries are for.)

Anyways, this afternoon has fallen apart.

The kids have gone waaaaaaaaay over their prescribed 30 minute screen-time time limit. The above bread was still gooey and doughey in the middle after 30 minutes in the oven. I've been interrupted about fifty-three times while trying to write this and now I don't even know what the point was. Or how my thoughts at the beginning will connect to my thoughts at the end. I still haven't showered, even though the every-other-day-shower trend ended when school started after the break. I ate bread. (This is strictly against the no-carb rules.) There is no ice or snow on the ground yet my kids are sitting downstairs rotting their brains and playing Minecraft. And my bathroom is looking at me like "why haven't you cleaned me? you know I'm nasty".

Your bathroom will not implode, my friend texted.

I don't know.

It might.

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