I love to bake bread, and yesterday and today were the first times in months that I've had the time and the energy to do it.
No class to prepare, no papers to grade, no meetings, no prayers in common. I had a wide open space to bake.
Yesterday I made two loaves of Cranberry Orange yeast bread. These two were a success.
Today I made four loaves of Stollen. Labor intensive but still so enjoyable. The loaves look like they will be good, too.
Here's a poem I wrote a long time ago about baking.
Recipe
Yeast rises like praise
clings to the cloth,
leaves its thready face there.
Dough rolls smooth
springs back
seamless in hand as thought.
The oven opens and closes its arms.
Smell seeps from room to room.
Bread, as finished as a child.
Every slice of the knife it sings its fearful litany:
I live in the jaws of hunger.
I break as I give
I rise as I die
It's the last day of the ""O" Antiphons: O Emmanuel
It's the day before Christmas Eve, and now I don't have any frantic rushing or cleaning , or even baking, to do tomorrow.
This is an old Catholic prayer custom.
Christmas lights at the pavilion at Cape May. I won't be there again until May, but I have some good Facebook friends who send wonderful photos of the town at Christmas.
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