Happening on the Farms

The art of baking bread is so good for my senses.

Watching my daughter as she fusses over her loaves.

The sun streaming in as she gently lays her bread out to rise.
I feel I have been taken back hundreds of years.

The smell, the sights, the sounds of laughter.

I bet my grandmothers kitchen smelled this way.

Her hands kneading her bread and putting it out to share.

The flour spread on my table like snow on a landscape.

I could gently blow it off but I'll leave it there until supper time.

The sun is going down and the shadows are stretching out

their arms over our farm.

Lantern ready to be lit on the mantel.

Sometimes I just get tired of fake light.

I like watching the flicker of the flame bounce

off my walls. I like seeing my kids eyes through

the candle light.

I like blowing it out at the end of the

night and drifting to sleep in the darkness..

Good Bread and candlelight

life just couldn't get much

better than this!