It was given as a gag gift, albeit an expensive one.  I had mentioned that I would like to someday be a bread maker, the kind of person who measures carefully, experiments, patiently awaits the rising of the dough.  It was a much a wish for the kind of slower pace and handcrafted artistry I longed for as it was anything else.  They thought that was funny.  They knew me back then.

So, they bought me a bread machine.  It was 1993.

It has since become something we do.  Especially as we gather to celebrate.  It’s woven in, tradition now.

Thank you, friends.