I Knead More Dough

        Reading Linda O'Connell's post--which was written because we really needed a momentary break from crying ten years ago--prompted me to recall my past dealings with dough. 

      I have so many encounters with bread and rolls and monkey bread and Cinnabons and breadsticks and biscuits, I have started taking my "rolls" with me.

      My name is Sioux, and I am a bread-aholic.

      These days, I try to stay away from white flour. Quinoa pasta and whole grain macaroni fill my cupboards now.

       But a few years ago, my sister and I went to visit a cousin, who baked yeast rolls for us one evening. The plan was for Orvilene (the cousin) to show us how to make them the next day, and give us some "starter" to take home.

       Well, those rolls were out-of-this-world. I can (still) conjure enough drool over them to write an ode about them. They were so delectable, no butter was needed (and definitely no margarine--margarine wasn't good enough for those bits of bread-heaven!).

photo by Shutterfool

       After eating them for dinner that first night, my sister lay in bed before falling asleep and talked. Not about our conversation we had with Orvilene and her husband, nor about the little trip we took that day did we chat. Instead, we talked about those rolls.

      You see, those rolls were bubbling in our stomachs. Whatever powerful yeasty action made those rolls rise up, they were working their magic in our tummies. And although we were complaining about the heartburn, we were trying to calculate how many rolls we could eat tomorrow and still avoid feeling uncomfortable again. 

"I think I had four rolls. I wonder if I just had two or three tomorrow?"

"Oh my!  I've never even had heartburn. This is horrible. I wonder if I only ate a couple?"

     Thankfully, we had something else to worry about the next day besides heartburn. We had tromped around some sites that were historic to our family and ended up with chiggers (my first time for those, as well). And also thankfully, although we brought home some starter, the rolls never even got close to Orvilene's.  (If I had been successful, I would now weigh 642 pounds, and my "rolls" would be even bigger than they are now.)

      As you think about where you were 10 years ago tomorrow morning, and you need a reason to smile, read Linda's post. As is always the case with her writing, you won't be disappointed...