Updates on Bread, Running, and Miracles
So... I've been training for my first half-marathon. So far, this has resulted in two things:
This sudden abundance of free time meant that I had time to give a new bread recipe a try: Peasant Bread, a no-knead bread recipe that you bake in Pyrex bowls. I'll admit it: the recipe was extra attractive to me because it gave me an excuse to go out and buy one of the pretty vintage Pyrex bowls I keep seeing in vintage and second-hand shops. I found one that would accommodate the double-loaf version of the recipe. I was so excited to find it that I stood in the store hunched over my phone, checking the blog to make sure it was the right size:
Here's what it looked like after the second rise:
And here's what it looked like after I took it out of the bowl and let it cool down enough to slice:
And yes, it is as easy as the recipe says it is... except that I screwed up measuring the flour during the first attempt and had to discard the dough in my compost bin... where it has since been sitting and rising... which is a little scary...
My knitting time has been great, but my project has been... well... not so great. It certainly LOOKS great on the needles, but wing-it-all-Adriene here decided to try the pattern with a great deal less yarn than what the pattern called for. This means that, if I assemble this cowl according to the instructions, I'll be lucky if I can get it over my head. There might be some aggressive stretching and blocking to come here...
But things could be worse. I got a bit of good news earlier in the week:
Monday night, I found myself in my office at work in a last-minute scramble to get something finished. Beneath the piles of paper and in-between pages of text flashing past on the screen, I heard my phone ring. I glanced over at it, and didn't recognize the number, so I ignored it. Later on, I saw a message flashing on it from the hubby...
My wallet, which I lost last week, had been found. The person who was trying to call me was my the receptionist at my chiropractor's office, who had been called that day by the person who had my wallet, who had found my appointment card in there. The chiropractor's receptionist passed on the person's number to the hubby, who then passed it on to me. It turned out to be a guy from the main sorting facility for the postal service. He told me he'd send it to my nearest post office, and that it would be there in the morning. He said that someone likely found my wallet, emptied out the cash, then deposited it in the nearest letter box. I guess that stuff happens all the time.
I was grateful to get it back, even if I had already cancelled my credit and debit cards. My driver's license and medical card were still in it... in fact, everything was still in it, including a gift card to a restaurant I'd forgotten about, and my Avid Knitter card from a local yarn store (losing that would have been a DISASTER). In all, I was out-of-pocket a few dollars, but it was nice to have some kind of balance restored.
This morning, during my Sunday long run, I ran past the coffee shop where I thought I left my wallet last week. As I went past, I noticed a person walking around the parking lot, looking around on the ground around the cars and on the ledge of the low brick wall surrounding the lot. She looked like she had had a hard, unlucky life... an older lady, which a face heavily creased with lines, wearing a shabby hat and overcoat that she had wrapped around her to keep her dry from the light rain. Her skin was dark, perhaps a little jaundiced, and she moved slowly, quietly searching.
I wondered if it was her who had found my wallet. And I wondered what she had used the money for... or perhaps, she might have found my wallet already stripped of the cash, and decided to put it in the letter box anyway. How could I ever know? How could I approach this woman and question her, just based on my hunch? It doesn't matter now. I silently thanked her, and hoped I might see her again.
So, that was the week. I'm off to go spend some time with my foam roller, and then I'll make some dinner. My last two runs have been really difficult, which has been scary for me. I'm trying hard to have faith that it will get easier... that I really can do this. Sitting here and writing this post has forced me to remember that I've got a lot of good things going here, and wallowing in my own fear and self-pity is not going to change anything.
Oh, and I might have a slice of bread. Yes... that will be just the ticket...
- Forming a much closer relationship with my foam roller. My muscles... they hurt.
- Oddly, I seem to have more time on my hands.
This sudden abundance of free time meant that I had time to give a new bread recipe a try: Peasant Bread, a no-knead bread recipe that you bake in Pyrex bowls. I'll admit it: the recipe was extra attractive to me because it gave me an excuse to go out and buy one of the pretty vintage Pyrex bowls I keep seeing in vintage and second-hand shops. I found one that would accommodate the double-loaf version of the recipe. I was so excited to find it that I stood in the store hunched over my phone, checking the blog to make sure it was the right size:
Here's what it looked like after the second rise:
And here's what it looked like after I took it out of the bowl and let it cool down enough to slice:
And yes, it is as easy as the recipe says it is... except that I screwed up measuring the flour during the first attempt and had to discard the dough in my compost bin... where it has since been sitting and rising... which is a little scary...
My knitting time has been great, but my project has been... well... not so great. It certainly LOOKS great on the needles, but wing-it-all-Adriene here decided to try the pattern with a great deal less yarn than what the pattern called for. This means that, if I assemble this cowl according to the instructions, I'll be lucky if I can get it over my head. There might be some aggressive stretching and blocking to come here...
But things could be worse. I got a bit of good news earlier in the week:
Monday night, I found myself in my office at work in a last-minute scramble to get something finished. Beneath the piles of paper and in-between pages of text flashing past on the screen, I heard my phone ring. I glanced over at it, and didn't recognize the number, so I ignored it. Later on, I saw a message flashing on it from the hubby...
My wallet, which I lost last week, had been found. The person who was trying to call me was my the receptionist at my chiropractor's office, who had been called that day by the person who had my wallet, who had found my appointment card in there. The chiropractor's receptionist passed on the person's number to the hubby, who then passed it on to me. It turned out to be a guy from the main sorting facility for the postal service. He told me he'd send it to my nearest post office, and that it would be there in the morning. He said that someone likely found my wallet, emptied out the cash, then deposited it in the nearest letter box. I guess that stuff happens all the time.
I was grateful to get it back, even if I had already cancelled my credit and debit cards. My driver's license and medical card were still in it... in fact, everything was still in it, including a gift card to a restaurant I'd forgotten about, and my Avid Knitter card from a local yarn store (losing that would have been a DISASTER). In all, I was out-of-pocket a few dollars, but it was nice to have some kind of balance restored.
This morning, during my Sunday long run, I ran past the coffee shop where I thought I left my wallet last week. As I went past, I noticed a person walking around the parking lot, looking around on the ground around the cars and on the ledge of the low brick wall surrounding the lot. She looked like she had had a hard, unlucky life... an older lady, which a face heavily creased with lines, wearing a shabby hat and overcoat that she had wrapped around her to keep her dry from the light rain. Her skin was dark, perhaps a little jaundiced, and she moved slowly, quietly searching.
I wondered if it was her who had found my wallet. And I wondered what she had used the money for... or perhaps, she might have found my wallet already stripped of the cash, and decided to put it in the letter box anyway. How could I ever know? How could I approach this woman and question her, just based on my hunch? It doesn't matter now. I silently thanked her, and hoped I might see her again.
So, that was the week. I'm off to go spend some time with my foam roller, and then I'll make some dinner. My last two runs have been really difficult, which has been scary for me. I'm trying hard to have faith that it will get easier... that I really can do this. Sitting here and writing this post has forced me to remember that I've got a lot of good things going here, and wallowing in my own fear and self-pity is not going to change anything.
Oh, and I might have a slice of bread. Yes... that will be just the ticket...
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