Frankenbread

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.