I've been getting up in the morning and baking. Yes. Baking.
Not every day. A morning here, a morning there.
It's quiet in the kitchen, and the sky still dark, and the oven whirs as it starts to heat up and the act of making something nice takes the edge off having to be up to make boring sandwiches.
And if I pop something in the oven when I leave to walk Clover to the bus stop, by the time I leave for the office I can take a warm, fresh piece of it with me.
I've made zucchini bread, and oatmeal cookies. It's 6.3o in the morning, and I'm whisking egg whites. Yep. And I enjoy it.
I think there comes a time when you have to accept things about yourself: I will never be cool. I like things to be calm. I like patterns. I don't like other people's baked goods.
Tip: something like zucchini bread can be thrown together fairly quickly. But for cookies it's best to make the dough the night before, and in the morning just scoop and bake them.
Closet morning bakers, I'd love to hear I'm not alone....
Rolling pin image credit.
Cricket on the Mantel piece
1 hour ago