Whipping up a batch of love.

A few years ago we were reading some relationship enhancing book and it posed the question, "How did you know as a child that your mother loved you?" My husband answered within a nano-second, "Because she baked bread." This was a profound moment for me.

My mother baked bread during my childhood as well. And here all along I thought it was a survival method to keep us from starving to death. But it was love? Heck, even I can do that. And so began my venture of being a bread baker.

It's not that difficult to do. It doesn't cost much - time more than anything. I enjoy it. And I enjoy the results. But it seems life just rolls along and before you know it, 3 months have passed since we last partook of the goodness of my oven. It's not that I love my husband any less. Or that I haven't thought about baking bread. It's just that it didn't happen.

It's not unlike a thousand other possible expressions of love that I could do with little cost and effort but somehow time just marches on: Having coffee with my in-laws. Phoning my parents. Sending a treat to my daughter. Having lunch with a friend... the list goes on. It's not that I love them any less. It's not that I don't think about it. It's just that I don't make it happen.

That being said, I think I'll go whip up a batch of love....


GraceeJ said…
That's alot of whole grain love!
mari said…
Whoa - I'm so glad that my husband only asks for cookies.. the whole neading bread thing just doesn't agree with me.
But mmmm.. home baked bread. We'll be home near the end of May...

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