Last night I was getting prepared for my first weekday morning without hubby, but I’m feeling a bit nervous about getting everyone ready and out the door on time, though I have been practising getting up early all weekend. So, in my brilliance I decided that I would put all the ingredients for some bread in the bread maker, so that we could wake up to some fresh homemade bread. I should have known when I woke up this morning and the whole house didn’t smell like bread that something was amiss. Dumped the bread out of the little pan and it was this tiny weird very heavy loaf and still raw inside, then I see that the mixer blade was missing out of the bread pan. Harrumph.
OK, no bread, so had to scrounge up some other things for breakfast and lunch for us. Got everyone fed, organized, and ready. I wet out the door with a leftover blueberry pancake from the weekend with homemade raspberry jam to eat in the car. But, I put it on the hood of the car while I got my youngest buckled into his carseat. I backed out the driveway, but as soon as I started forward the plate tipped up and splatted jam on my windshield. Harrumph.
OK, so had to wipe jam off my windshield this morning. Lukily, I salvaged my pancake.
This evening I decided that with no bread machine I better mix up my own bread dough and bake it tonight before bed. Started it after dinner and set it to rise. Went to play outside with the kids and pick tomatoes and peppers. Came in, got kid’s in the bath and in bed, checked the dough – no rising.
OK, so when life gives you flat bread, I make…flat bread, of course.