Last week I found a recipe for Snicker Doodle Bread here .
I made it and while it wasn't my proudest baking moment it was kinda a moment.
I did something that people do and enjoy doing in their own homes. I didn't just show up plop my things down and ask Jerrel if we could go to my parents house, his parents house- somewhere familiar. Because the place we were "living" had my things and my husband but it wasn't mine.
And for a girl who has a very strong sense of home, I wasn't having it. I was playing pretty nice but inside I couldn't wait for the next opportunity to go home to my parents. The little mole hills in the house were becoming mountains in an effort to justify my feelings.
And while a bat in the house-the mammal, not the sporting equipment, odd smells, creepy crawlies in the attic interrupting dinner conversations, and bad, bad, faux brick are all annoyances, in the grand scheme of things-they are silly.
But with me baking last week and wanting to bake today shows I'm wanting to do things normal people do in the houses they live. It's getting better. It's getting easier. I look forward to evenings home alone with my husband. I don't have to leave to feel better. I can be here and be content.
It's nice. And Jerrel certainly isn't opposed to the baked goods.
Blessings!
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