I started a loaf of bread yesterday evening. I love that baking bread can actually be a largely hands-off process that produces such a delicious end product. I used to bake regularly when I was younger, but ….life happens.
When I took a photo of today’s loaf of bread I realized that the soup I was making for lunch was heating in my Grandma’s pot, which my Mother had subsequently purposed as her porridge pot when Grandma passed away, and which I have cherished since Mom passed away…. and that my Granny’s timer, which remains a part of my happy memories because it reminds me of when I visited and she’d use it to time the poached eggs that she would cook for me, was sitting on top of one of the salt jars.
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