Tuesday, August 7, 2012
All I could think of driving back is how much I didn't want to get up and going this morning. I felt like the groggy Dunkin' man. But long before my alarm went off, and miles and miles from my sleeping house, someone was turning on the lights in a restaurant kitchen. Sifting, kneading and then rolling out dough with a wooden pin. Engendering delight. Out of flour and love.