Mildrith, the wood-fired oven, welcomed her first load of bread when the morning was still dark. It’s dawn now, three batches later, and I’m opening the oven doors on what may be the last one of the day. Sunlight is beginning to wink at me through the fence.
There’s a bit of warm colour on the loaves closest to the doors, deeper brown on the loaves in the back.… Continue reading
Last week’s Rye and Spelt Loaf scratched a need for me — the taste of rye, that unusual grain that bakes and tastes so differently than wheat. I’m rarely over-the-moon about my bread, as many customers are, but this loaf was beautiful!
The coarse rye flour in this loaf was highlighted by the milder tasting spelt flour, and I tasted that big earthy flavour I love so much about this under-appreciated grain.… Continue reading
If it weren’t for the extreme fire hazard warning, I’d wax poetic about the summer right now. The green apples on the branches, the delicate butterflies flitting over the lavender, the breeze rustling the leaves of the birch and poplars.… Continue reading
The sky on Monday evening was hazy, smudged, colourless. There were no clouds and no promise of a “sailor’s delight.” You could barely see Stuart and Waldron Islands through the murk.
I stood knee-deep in the water on our little beach at the foot of the cliff. The tide was unusually high. Despite several days of scorching temperatures, the water was as icy as ever.… Continue reading
Bend low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long-arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
So lazy and hum-strumming.
— Carl Sandburg