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.