Giving thanks for bread

We'll be baking bread next week, taking it to a Thanksgiving dinner on Tuesday evening. I admit that it is my hubby who has the knack for making and baking dough. I am the support team. And also a grateful recipient.

Breadmaking is in both our families. My mother was an excellent baker, and my father sold flour by the carload for Nebraska Consolidated Mills, traveling the eastern third of the United States to sell to bakeries there.  Anna, hubby Chris' grandmother, was the baker in his family, and now Chris. The mixing of the dough, the magic of the swelling sponge, the dextrous hands that shape the loaves.... even the old bowls and spoons bring back rich memories. And so... this poem:

The Earthenware Bowl

The earthenware bowl

Thick-walled and ample

Wears a wide blue stripe

And sits in a warm nook

Like a well-loved grandma,

Shoulders wrapped,

Gently cradling tomorrow’s bread.

© Karen Eastlund

  

My best to you and yours as you share family traditions and feasts this coming week.