It's when life was simplistic. It's when families were together. It's when homemade was the only option. It's when frugal was the norm.
I have been drawn lately to movies that take place in the 50's and 60's. I love seeing these families portrayed the way they are. I am so sick of tv now where dramatic and disrespectful are on every channel. Where I regularly think, "can they say that on tv?" Life was once pure and humor was innocent. Men were taught to respect women, and women had more sense of worth. Chivalry was alive.
I want my son to grow up enjoying simplicity. I want him to read and play and get dirty. I want him to dig for worms. I want him to use his imagination. I don't want him to live in a completely electronically centered world. I want him to work and earn what he has. Not just live in this society where everyone is entitled. I want him to look up to and learn wisdom from his elders.
I love having the ability to create myself. I am addicted to making family dinner where we all sit together; I love making my house a home- I don't want to miss out on these labors of love.
There is something with laboring with your hands. You feel accomplished and there is pride in your work. This brings me to baking bread.
I have tried on and off for a couple years to make a good loaf of bread. I started with my bread machine and have ended up kneading with my hands.
I love kneading dough. I love putting strength into it. I love feeling the warmth under my palms and the inviting smell drift through my home. This work makes me feel like life is a little more simple. That I haven't lost where we came from. The everything branches from someone's hard work, and that even today, I can be a part of that.
This bread is really good. It's soft. It tastes good. It's easy. And I feel comfortable feeding it to my son with its simple ingredients. It fills my soul with the simplicity I crave. (Find the recipe Here)
May I never forget what simplicity looks like.
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