It becomes very easy to take things for granted. When I lived in Connecticut, I took for granted that I could get a pizza delivered to the house at one o’clock in the morning. I also took for granted that that pizza was going to be a thin, New York style pizza with fresh mozzarella cheese and fresh basil with marinara sauce that did not come directly out of a can.
When I moved back to Vermont I realized that I would be giving up some of these conveniences in order to live in a rural setting with fresh air, no traffic and the opportunity to see more than two stars each night.
Now that I have been making fresh wholesome meals for me and my family, I had taken for granted the sheer delic-ee-ousity of homemade bread. I make bread twice or three times a month for DH and I. Additionally I make cookies, rolls, pies, cakes, etc. as need or desire warrant. This weekend I had made fresh bread for the week and tried a new recipe for crusty rolls (like the kind I could get at any deli in Fairfield County, CT or Westchester County, NY; but you can’t find anywhere in VT).
While we were waiting for the rest of dinner to cook, DH and I broke into the still warm loaf of wheat bread resting on the counter. I had taken for granted how fantastically delicious a slice of warm, fresh baked bread with a slab of butter can be.
I ended up eating less dinner and I now have to make more bread for this week.
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