Sundays start out something like this: First the cats, then the coffee. I spend some time with the newspaper in the bamboo chair or on the porch swing, depending on the weather. I pull the ads out and put them in a paper bag to be recycled. That takes away at least half of the newspaper. After we both finish the rest of the paper, that part goes into a stack to be used as mulch. (I find that the Rhinoceros Times makes the best mulch–they are always thick and full of crap.)
Today, I didn’t do what had become a usual thing for me since this past summer, which was to go to the 9:20 service at the Church of the Covenant. I am always glad when I go, but I’ve needed the time alone here lately. And Saturday and Sunday mornings are usually all about me, since Sandy likes to sleep late.
Today was different. I started some bread in the breadmaker. I used to make bread the old-fashioned way, but after I got chronic tendinitis in both hands I couldn’t knead the dough long enough. Now I let the breadmaker do the mixing and kneading, and then I remove the dough and let it rise, shape, and bake it in the oven. This produces excellent results without causing me physical pain. I’m not big on gadgets, but I have found that the breadmaker is one of those gadgets that I really use.
Next Sunday we are having our first Slow Food event, a potluck at the Greensboro Montessori School. This will be a nervous time for me. I have a lot of hope that I will be able to make new friends in this group, but I am not good at making friends. Plus, bringing a dish to an event with a bunch of foodies, chefs, and other food professionals is rather intimidating. This sunflower seed bread is one of my favorite things, so I decided to bake it, freeze it, and then if I don’t get a chance to bake it fresh next Saturday night or Sunday morning, I’ll have it.
Sandy got up a little earlier and we went to the pottery festival at the farmers’ market. This probably would have been a good time for me to leave my checkbook at home. But we’re feeling a little optimistic about Sandy’s job prospects and we both have a weakness for pottery. I thought I’d look for a colander to replace the ancient plastic one I have. But instead, I bought a beautiful flower pot, four beautiful bowls (eatin’ size) and Sandy bought a primitive looking goblet from a lady who digs her own clay and tries to reproduce very old designs.
I suggested to Sandy that we should put away our ordinary china and start eating from our pottery collection. Food just tastes better eaten out of beautiful handmade things. He agreed, and when I came home I packed up the old tarnished silver from his grandmother that we will never use to be stored in the attic, put our ordinary plates where the silver had been, and started clearing out some junk.
But of course, Sandy didn’t want me to actually get rid of any of the old coffee mugs that either of us ever use or have any sentimental attachment to. So I had gotten my hopes up a little too high. He would have never missed these things, but I made the mistake of asking him to take out the trash. And they were my things to throw out. But whatever, I’ve learned to pick my battles. I am happy about the new pottery!
The flowerpot is just stunning. I’m going to go repot my crown of thorns in it right now.