Thanks to Kurt Vonnegut for that three word world-weary summation of the state of everything. Now let’s get down to business. That wheat bread I thought was a sure disaster? I finally cut open a loaf this morning for breakfast and…drumroll please…here’s what I found:
Real bread! Turns out my sourdough culture was more like a sleeper agent, pretending to be dead and inactive only to spring to life in the oven. Well, that metaphor is anti-good, but you get the idea. I think this bread would have opened up even more if only it hadn’t been so dry and the crust hadn’t dried as it proofed for endless hours. So it goes…
And how’s our little angel? Despite her meltdown on Sunday night we didn’t trade her for another child or hook her up to a plow to finish tilling the front garden bed. Hold on, I’ve got a call coming in. Who’s “Child Protective Svcs?” Never mind, send it to voicemail. Where was I? Ah yes, the Short One Who Yells Demands in a Loud Voice. For breakfast she astonished me by yelling, “I want some chocolate milk! [pause] Please, may I have some chocolate milk please?” So we had a nice quiet breakfast and all was well until she found a mini bag of M&Ms that was going to school for her Valentine’s party. Miserable withholding father that I am, I told her, “No candy for breakfast. Go get dressed.” Thus began loud protests to rival those in Tahrir Square. Somehow my wife got her dressed and out the door. Then it was all rainbows and happiness again as she posed for pictures in the garden. So it goes…
Writer, architect, father, husband.
Now isn’t she too cute? Now what are you talking about?!
She is so darn cute. She’s starting to lose that toddler-ish look to her and is really looking more and more like a little girl. I started off following your blog last summer on Vox and it amazing to see through your pictures how much she is growing up.
Thanks and yes, I agree. This picture especially, maybe because it’s worm’s eye view, makes her seem tall and more like a little girl, less like a toddler.