I'm going to a running event tonight, where an expert is going to teach me how to avoid injury, and where I'm going to be joining a few complete strangers for a run. Thus, no long run this morning. No run and no work means a lot of pent-up energy that needs to be channelled into something or else I explode like an overfilled balloon.
After a quick trip to the supermarket I came home with spelt flour and what I thought were ALL the necessary ingredients to make bread. Apart from some things I thought I had at home. And of course I didn't, which I discovered as soon as I got home and opened the cupboard. Going back to the supermarket would have been the wise thing to do, I suppose. But I lack common sense, so I searched the Internet for substitutes to the missing ingredients.
|I used to be good at this. Spelt bread from some years ago.|
The Bread Thing is now in the oven, slowly gaining in volume and looking completely deformed. And slightly threatening. I think I saw a mouth with sharp teeth in there. But it smells like home.