RECENT PROJECT
My favorite thing to bake is bread. Yes, yes, I know that there are many other flavorful and magical things to bake, from sweet desserts to succulent casseroles to hearty pies. Yet, the smell of bread baking and, in particular, fresh from the oven is unique in the feeling of warmth and joy it gives me.
The bread book that I use most (and I’ve referenced before) is Bernard Clayton’s “New Complete Book of Breads” (2003). The book was a gift from a friend, and I’ve found the instructions very clear, the notes useful, and the breads (almost always) exceptional. Recently, I made the Molasses Wheat Bread (pp. 99-101), as I’d never made a bread that included molasses before, and I’d done few whole-wheat breads in the past. The really fun thing about this bread is that, before the second rising, you take each of the two loaves and twist it two or three times. I wasn’t too aggressive with my twists, but I did get the nice top that you can see in the picture below. The bread was great when it was warm, and only my oldest son didn’t like the reheated pieces (his loss, the wife’s gain).
Molasses Wheat Bread, as viewed from the top
TOPIC FOR TODAY
It’s a bit shocking when you go along in life, just working and taking care of the family, and then you pause for a moment and take a look at yourself in the mirror of your own mind. While there are positive things you might see about yourself in that mirror, it’s far easier to find pock marks and scars that you didn’t even realize were there. For me, during a recent glance at the mirror, I realized something that truly bothered me: I’ve become a homebody.
Although I think most people know what a homebody is, for the sake of a common definition, I’ll put it this way: Someone who is primarily interested in doing activities at home, and who avoids doing things familiar or new outside of the home. I suppose this could be based out of fear, or laziness, or something else. So how did it happen for me?
I grew up exploring the areas around wherever we were living quite a bit; sure, I spent time indoors, but I also checked out the forest, or the cemetery, or the river plenty. Then, as I entered high school and began to work and be more selective on what I did and with what people, that exploring just kind of–faded. It was simply too much work, or moreso took too much time, to go and have adventures. Staying in and surrounded by all the things I could have fun with close at hand was so much, well, easier. And more comfortable. And safer. Eventually, that easiness, comfort, and safety became the overriding factors in decisions about what to do each day, and turned into the padded chains that kept me at home.
As with most times we’re simply doing what’s comfortable, it took something significant for me to stop and look in my mental mirror. In this case, it was my Grandma dying. Like I’ve heard others say, it was a tragedy to lose her, but at the same time a blessing that all the pain she had or could have had was done, and those conflicting feelings were mixed up in all sorts of other complicated feelings that go along with being a family. When she passed away, I had a chance to look at my Grandma’s life and what I’d observed about her behaviors that I did or didn’t want to be true in my life. And what do you know, she was quite the homebody too. She did some volunteering, but she was far more often at home than she was out doing things. In the same vein, my Mom is still very involved in volunteering, and has jobs, but she is not really a traveler at all–more of a volunteer and explorer within her well-known realm. And do you know what this homebody thought when looking at other homebodies? I don’t want that to be me!
You see, in spite of all the great things you can do at or from home, I realized that the vast majority of great times in my life involved getting out of the house and doing things. I might think with a groan of having to load up bikes to head out to the local bike trail, but then I remember the wind on my face, the sun on my skin, and the thrill of riding down an open path with a gorgeous view. While I may hate the time and expense of planning a trip to another country, I remember how blessed we’ve been to be able to take such trips (well, trip), the awesome people we’ve met, and the incredible things we’ve seen. I may feel like Anger from Pixar’s Inside Out by the time we get things packed, the kiddos into the carseats, and through weekend traffic to go wherever we want to hike–but then, I remember how much I like the exertion of hiking around, enjoy being in amidst trees or on top of mountains, and revel in being with my family in a quiet pocket of nature.
Taking those happy memories into consideration, and realizing I’m not always strong enough to get myself out of this rut of staying at home, I flat-out told my wife she’s going to have to force me into some outdoor activities: hiking, biking, or even *gulp* camping. We won’t be able to get out all the time, and I’ll let that feed my homebody inclination, but when we do go out I’m going to do my very best to find that lost explorer that I know is still somewhere inside of me and let him roam free once more.