we have longer than what the calendar says...right?

We've barely started summer and already I'm realizing how quickly certain things are approaching. In June we had two weddings in one weekend to plan for and look forward to.  Two weeks later we celebrated fourth of July...though I still feel like that shouldn't have happened for another couple of weeks. This Sunday I anticipate hopping on a plane by my lonesome and heading out west where I get to spend the next week driving back east with my dear heart as we move him from a-school to duty station. Once we're back on the east coast there will only be 6 more weeks until our big day.

And just like that, the realization of just how little time we have left is hitting me hard. The anticipation of getting on a plane by myself (I'm not a huge fan of flying) is giving me a little anxiety...but I know for a fact that my prize at the end of about 9hrs of traveling is worth it's weight 10X over in gold. And the experience of driving across the country is one that I have always wanted to have, and will remember for the rest of my life! And honestly, how can I complain when I'll have his company all to myself for about a week. These will be the last moments we get to spend with one another before another short separation, followed by the hoopla of family descending upon our houses and wedding craziness and then moving craziness.

My brain is a little on overload right now. Anticipating things such as finishing up at my job and leaving them down one stylist in a very busy salon, putting the finishing touches to all the wedding plans and wondering if we're ever gonna fully be done, getting through the wedding, and then moving my whole entire life down Cape Hatteras, NC.

To their credit, some members of my family are pretty good at consoling me when i'm on the verge of an overload. But the only person who I really want to be consoled by, and who really can calm me down completely, is on crazy schedules making him mostly unreachable by phone during most of the day, and very much so out of my arms reach all the time.

I find myself missing silly little things like getting ice cream or driving to wendy's at 12:30am with him, and watching miscellaneous sitcoms we stumble upon and becoming die hard fans! I miss just driving do mundane places like the grocery store, with my feet on the dash and singing along to silly songs. Basically, I miss life with my best friend, and as we get closer and closer to our big day, it gets harder and harder in the "I miss you " department.
Like when you start to picture your significant other as your phone...oops.

60 more days, and counting!!!!

Now that she's back in the atmosphere...

Well, I'm back. And boy, what a trip...

It was an adventure. I relaxed. I ran around. Had some nice late night talks curled up at the kitchen table with a mug of tea. Had some crazy days spent hurrying here and there, never staying in the same place for more than a couple hours. I hung out with old friends, feeling like family. I met crazy awesome new people. I spent about 50 hours of my life on a train and am now pretty familiar with Amtrak...there and back I had a lay over in Chicago, and so was privileged to roam around the beautiful Windy City with 3 amazing dudes.

I left with little expectations, hoping to maybe just quiet my soul, listen to God, and visit my friends...and if God happened to nudge me in any direction, that would be awesome too.
I returned with a lot to think about.
While I was there opportunities arose. Internships came up. Chances to shadow at salons. As well as missions opportunities.

And ever since I got back a feeling has been growing in me...something that's always been there that now is spreading. I've never really been able to describe it, and it's frustrating. But the other night I was having a conversation with one of my best friends. One of those conversations that fall under the "If I don't get out of here soon I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life, that I don't know what I'm doing with anyways" category...I'm sure you have those all the time...

We talked about jobs. We talked about monotonous life. We talked about restlessness...We talked about senioritis.


Finally I tried to put this feeling that I had into words and it came out like this:

"...Do you ever get that feeling like...let's see if I can describe it - 

like, you were made for something more? That growing up, finishing school and getting a job and routine just wasn't what was intended for you? That you were created, not for something mundane and monotonous, but for something truly breathtaking and extraordinary? Cause...that seems to be how I feel. And like that desire for the extraordinary is trying to claw it's way out...like it's suffocating at the thought of never getting to see the sun...or maybe I just have to much of an imagination...?"

So...yep. That's where I'm at right now...perhaps this was a nudge in a direction...guess we'll see. 

The Bean*

*(I have now seen The Bean, one of Chicago's great works of modern architecture I am told...but secretly I'm pretty sure it's an idol to the Americans love of coffee...see for yourself. ;) )

This is What LOVE Feels Like

Today on FB, one of my friends - an avid blogger by day and super classy lady all the time, whose blog (Out of My Alleged Mind) you can find HERE! - posted this link to one of the many blogs she's found and follows. Maybe it's the fact that I've known a few people with cancer. Maybe it's because I know how attached people can be to their hair, and the significance that cutting it can have. Or maybe...I'm just human and tender, but something in this story made my heart ache and my eyes water. (I've always told my close friends that if they ever got cancer and lost their hair, I would cut mine too.)

This is What LOVE Looks Like:

imperfect prose on thursdays: the day i cut my dreadlocks

This is my Therapy

"And you're kept in an open cage, So you're free to leave or stay.Sometimes you get confused, Like there's a hint I am trying to give you."

"talking bird" by Death  Cab For Cutie

Poorly drawn picture...by me.

I believe I've mentioned before about how much I love road trips, and have joked about having a touch of gypsy blood in me. I've expressed my restlessness of being in one place for too long (even though I always come back home.) I've talked about my longing for adventure and how I've made due by trekking through the rain and creating crazy story plots inside my head. 
And so...I find myself yet again feeling those stirring desires in my heart to go on an adventure and travel far far away...
I thought about it for a while, weighed my options, bounced thoughts and opinions off of close friends, prayed, and drank more than my outrageously large quota of coffee. 


The fact is, I still have no job. Let me reword that. I have no stationary job. No salon to call 'home', and not because there's a lack of salons or opportunities. When the Velvet Touch and I parted ways, somewhere in me, I felt peace. It was an odd and unexpected thing to feel upon losing a job. 
An opportunity for a stylist position in another salon arose, and I pursued it, but something about it just didn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but I couldn't shake it. Nothing came from this pursued position. But here's the beauty of it. My job doesn't have to be stationary! I can take it with me wherever I go...which means I can travel :) 


And so, after some deliberation, I have decided to go on my adventure. Finally. 
I have nothing that's holding me here. I have no salon to report to. No major responsibilities to look after. No relationships tying me down. So, I ask myself, why not? 


I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm a curious soul. Travel is a therapy to me. Staring out a window, watching the world pass by at blurring speeds, my mind seems to process things clearly. And so, I've purchased a train ticket, and next Sunday I begin my journey. To where? The Midwest. Kansas City, Missouri. Why? Because I have good friends out there (They're in the middle of an adoption, check them out and see how you can help contribute HERE!), and they belong to a church that I've been wanting to visit.


And so, I'm running away. Because I can. 

"I never thought I'd be driving through the country just to drive

With only music and the clothes that I woke up in

I never thought I'd need all this time alone it goes to show

I had so much yet I had need for nothing

But you

This is just therapy

Let's call it what it is

(Not what we were)

With a death-grip on this life always transitioning

This is just therapy

Cause you won't take my calls

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening to me

Letting it all sink in

It's good to feel a sting now and again

I hope it's one less woeful thing there is to fight through

Forgetting it all begin

Fresh paper and nice expensive pen

The past can not subtract a thing from what I might do

For you

Unless that's what I let it do

Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused

Cause I spend my solitude with you

I gather all the questions of the things I just can't get straight

And I answer them the way I guess you'd do

Cause this is my therapy

Cause you're the only one that's listening to me

This is my therapy

Let's call it what it is not what we were

With a death-grip on this life that's in transition

This is my therapy

Cause you won't hear me out

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening"

I tend to sing this when I start to get restless and need a road trip...so, on a pretty regular basis.

Cup art

Recently, there has been an outbreak of penned art on plain white paper coffee cups. In a recent visit up to my bro's college, a bunch of us gathered for coffee and proceeded to take out empty and used white cups back to our friend's dorm where she, an art major, then handed out pens and crayons and markers. We sat and had ourselves an art session. My brother, however, left his cup blank, informing me I could doodle what I'd like and joked about giving it to him as a Christmas gift....well I did. And today, I present to you my freshly finished (as of 10 minutes ago) product.

Cups: black india ink pen - pre color.














Ok, now for another 360, post coloring.

Cup: black India ink pen + water color paints (:

And may the odds be ever in your favor

What would you do if one day you were taken from your home, thrown into a massive outdoor arena with 23 other people, and told you weren't aloud to come out...unless you were the last one alive? What would you do if the only provisions you were given were the clothes on your back? If you had to brave the elements with no shelter, and the little supplies that was up for grabs must be taken along with the life of its previous owner? What would you do if you had to go through all of this knowing you would be on a screen, viewed - every second of the day and night - by the whole of your nation?

Well? 

A few weeks ago we had a massive snow storm (freak natural disaster in the middle of October!) that knocked the power out in most of Connecticut for a week or more. During that week I spent some time with my friends Reagan and Sophia. Sophia stayed at my house for most of that week, and with her she brought a new book. The Hunger games. She was hooked, and had devoured most of it in just a day or so. At night we would have story time, reading by the soft glow of a lantern. I was hooked. The intense and violent story of this girl was crazy! My eyes went wide and adrenaline started pumping as Sophia read aloud and I imagined the reckless and life threatening situations. The power came on, and she left my house before she could finish the book, but days later it was handed to me, in much rougher conditions then when it had first appeared at my house. 

I sat down immediately with this beloved and dog eared story and began some word devouring of my own. It was terrific. I read the last paragraph and was mentally gasping for air, physically running back in forth in my kitchen mumbling "What! NO! It can't end! No! Where are the keys? I'm going to buy the next book NOW! I HAVE TO!" with my sister standing by the counter, shaking her head and giving me the "You are crazier than I give you credit for." look - yes, she has a particular look for that thought, I receive it often.

But, before I finished the Hunger Games, I poisoned her mind as well, reading a chapter out loud to her before bed. Now that I am done with it, she carries it around. Disappearing into the world of Panem as often as possible. Eleanore! The girl who doesn't read anything! The girl who sticks her nose up at every book I have suggested EVER! My mother and I are shocked, but happy. I was also happy to find out that my library was carrying copies of the next two sequels and that I was able to check them both out at once. 

The Hunger Games    *  Catching Fire    *      Mocking Jay

On top of that, they are also making a movie! As always, I'm a little wary of people taking such an awesome book and putting it on film, but, as previews tend to do, the trailer looks amazing.

I've been to the dentist a thousand times....

The next line should go something like "But I 'know' the 'drill'", but I don't actually. I am not one who has had to make any sort of visits to my dentist to have things drilled out of my teeth. I go in twice a year for a cleaning. Something at which I roll my eyes to. The only things I've ever heard them say is "Looking great! Floss more often, and think about removing those wisdom teeth." I am on good terms with the dentist, I suppose. I sit there and tolerate them telling me things I already know, while they poke around in my mouth with latex covered hands and pointy metal implements. blech How I hate people poking around in my mouth. It gives me the creeps, and I think I could do without that.

But last Tuesday morning I went in for a consultation to go about having my wisdom teeth removed. The prior weekend one of them decided to give me grief, causing my gums and cheek to swell and preventing me from eating solid food or really opening my mouth at all. I was living on Advil. By the time I got into the appointment my mouth had calmed down and I was finally able to eat more solid foods. But as soon as I opened my mouth for the Dr. I knew what was coming.

"Yeah, those need to come out." I left the office with 2 prescriptions to control infection (If he didn't like the look of my gums then he would have been terrified by them just a few days before) and two days between me and oral surgery. I heaved a great sigh and then plotted out the delicious meals that I could eat before losing the ability to chew for who knew how long.

Many of my friends have had their wisdom teeth out, and nearly all of them have had varying experiences. From staying in bed all week, unable to do anything, to going to dance class the night of (albeit a little loopy), to not having any side effects save chipmunk cheeks, to having their face swell and the newly empty sockets becoming uncomfortably infected. So, to be honest, I had no idea what to expect.

Friday morning arrived. I downed two horse-sized pills that did not feel comfy in my empty stomach and within the hour found myself patiently awaiting my teeth to be ripped out of my mouth. Yay.

Finally, they lead me to a funny smelling room with a sketchy looking dental torture chair in the middle of floor. The friendly woman sat me down, asking how I was while placing sensors on my ankles, thumb, and wrist. Through the open door I could peer across the hallway where there was a man partially hidden behind a curtain, bloody gauze in his hand, frustrated attendant by his side, wits not totally about him. Well, that's comforting... I thought :/ Finally the doctor came in, asked a few more questions, briefing me once more on the procedure. A mask was placed over my nose, sending oxygen up my surprised nostrils. They strapped my right arm to the chair to ensure my hand with the thumb sensor didn't go any where, and sprayed some freezing liquid on my left arm, numbing it for the injection of anesthesia. I became aware of two hands, one on either side of my head, blocking my peripherals, and felt like a horse with blinders. Did they think I was about to freak out? Did they not see my ears? My nose with a metal stud in it? I have no problem with needles, and was ready to just pass out and take a nap. It was weird, and annoying.

Finally, the ceiling started doing funny things and I must have looked a little amused because the doctor commented on the effects that should be taking place right about now....and that was it. I was gone. Can't say I felt a thing. Next thing I knew I was sitting in the back recovery room, not able to remember the trip from chair to hallway, mind coming quicker to consciousness than body. (an irritating phenomenon when you wish to simply leave)

And so, unable to feel my face, I left the building. Onwards to pick up drugs and starbucks :) As it turned out, I never felt any pain, (not because I was taking painkillers, on the contrary, I've slacked a bit in that area. They make me a zombie during the day, and unable to sleep at night) but much annoyance has occurred over not being able to chew real food. Living on a liquid diet with everything seeming to be dairy based is not enjoyable for an Italian who enjoys eating hearty, home cooked meals...

So, here I am. After nearly 3 weeks of not eating food, nearly 4 days of having less teeth, and nearly finished with popping pills, I am just peachy. Happy that I wasn't bed ridden for a week. Happy that I was up and running just a few hours after the procedure, even though I resembled a drugged up zombie. And happy that my little bro called me from school just to see how I was doing :)

...Not to say that I would willingly go through that again....

And off they go....

Today is the day. My little bro left for college early this a.m. with my parents, leaving me behind with the younger sibs for the weekend. It was weird to see his room become a mass of clothing and belongings, to watch it turn from chaos, to organization, to...emptiness. I'm jealous of his adventure, but not so happy that he's left me here.

My best friend isn't coming home for dinner tonight....

I know that the rest of my family will still be here, and so will my friends...but, to be honest, it's not the same at all. I am in a state of melancholy.

I'm not worried about him at all. Try as I did to corrupt his brilliant mind, he turned out just fine. The only thing he may be in danger of is hiding in his room for weeks on end, studying....

I will miss our late nights of watching Disney movies, Monty Python, RSC, Pushing Daisies....

I will miss our random musical duets, making up fake lyrics to songs we don't understand.

I'll miss his strange humor, and how well it plays off mine.

Movie quoting during awkward moments....pie making at midnight....

...I won't miss the video game music....(sorry bro.)

But, he's left, and along with him go a couple of our good friends. I'm excited to see how they've changed and grown when they all come home.

;)

Being Still, and Knowing...

Well hello there, land of bloggers. I come to you with a mind overflowing with wonderings. Within the past two weeks I have found myself to be befuddled with emotions, and thoughts. My brother graduated last weekend and will be leaving us in a couple months. I will be sad losing him to college, we are very close and I will miss his humor and company greatly. There is friend drama, as always, that leaves me confused and drained as I try to figure out where exactly I stand in all of it....And work....always work.

I was blessed with an amazing imagination and love of dreaming, but sometimes I wish I could just stop thinking. I've shared my frustrations and confusion with some of my closest friends.

Feeling vulnerable, and sharing what's really on my mind is not something I'm used to. I have this rather dangerous tendency to pretend that everything is fine on my end. Shutting emotions and troubles away in a box deep in the back of my mind. But I can only talk to my friends so much before I feel like I am vomiting the same conversations on them over and over and over! (Sorry for that mental picture....although, if you are picturing physical letters of the alphabet raining down on my friends, then by all means laugh...)

*thank you everyone who has visited me at the salon in the past two weeks, btw. You guys are awesome!

With all this rolling around in my head, becoming tangled and more confusing as it gets analyzed over and over, I have found myself mentally writing psalms, drinking way more coffee than is probably healthy(which probably isn't slowing my brain down at all) and spending vast amounts of time sitting on a very special couch that is living on my porch. This couch is a glider that has been around circa 1930? maybe earlier. As far as I know it has spent most of it's life rocking back and forth on the porch of the Upper Clubhouse, an ancient building in the middle of Harriman state park in upstate New York, until two years ago when the owners of one of the appartments in the upper clubhouse decided they wanted it thrown away. WHAT! But you can't have camp without the glider!

We came back to camp one evening to discover the huge wrap around porch empty of this nostalgic piece. My brother, who works as part of the maintenance team, informed us of it's relocation to the dumpster. I was upset. I loved this glider! I was ready and willing and trying to convince my family to drive down there and load it up in our van and drive home with it in the dead of night! We totally would've been able to get it home and be back before 4am....if we left 'now'.... My father wasn't really thrilled with my spontaneous plans for adventure, and told me to let it go...but with my ardent arguing I had planted ideas in the mind of my mother. So....we went to bed, I slept in the kitchen...or was it the common room....and woke up to find that my father's mind had been changed... So, my mother and I prepared for a quick escape. We loaded up the skeleton of the glider, much to the pleasure of some of the older camp members who had also grown up with the couch and hated to see it thrown away, and took off to home. We met my grandparents half way and they took it back to our house. The two of us were back at camp before late afternoon, both of us beaming with excitement for what would be waiting to greet us at home.

Yes. I stole the camp glider.

...It makes me wonder what now sits on the porch of this enormous old house that sits atop the hill that overlooks more or less the entire grounds of Camp K-20, a family camp that has been around for about 100 years.

My family and I have had the privilege of hiding out there for a couple weeks each summer for 6 or 7 consecutive years. Last year we couldn't go because of my school schedule, and we hope to at least chill for a weekend there this summer if we can.

But when you're up there, it's like you're hidden from the rest of the world. It's wonderful. It's quiet and peaceful and such an escape. (Escapeeeee'....that's funny, it's spelled just like 'escape'!) And it's a place where you do a lot of crazy stuff, reckless stuff, fun stuff, and a lot of thinking...No one seems to really care where you go, as long as you wander into the kitchen when you're hungry. Tabs aren't really kept, and there's a vast amount of freedom. (Probably because there's not too much trouble you can get into up there...) But on rainy days, the whole camp shuts itself away and becomes silent. People nap, sneak away to the 'real world' aka - walmart, or, if you're one of the lucky few who owns a tv up there, you watch movies. Me? I liked to make a cup of hot coffee, grab one of my dad's big comfy sweatshirts, and gently sway back and forth on the glider.

Something about being alone, inhaling the wet air, watching the rain fall while being sheltered by the porch roof, it was peaceful, calming. I felt like I was sitting there, alone but not alone, with my chest ripped open and my heart exposed. Everything in my confused mind made sense as I looked out over a hill covered in wild blueberry bushes and ancient forestry.

And right now, I wish I could escape' to that. I guess, it's what I call "Being still, and knowing."

But I guess I'll just content myself with another cuppa coffee, maybe some poetry, and a gentle sway on the glider as I be still and know some more...

Hi. My name is Emily, and I'm a vegetarian.

Ok, you got me. I am not a long term veggie head, just for the month of February.

My brother came home a couple months ago with a proposition; A few of his school friends had suggested that for the month of February they all go without meat. I questioned the reason behind this, just cause I was curious. It sounded like a good idea to me, I don't eat much meat anyways, some of it makes me sick, some of it we just don't buy for budget reasons...

I never really got a straight answer as to why my brother's friends wanted to do this, I guess because they just wanted to try it out? Anyways, February rolled around and 2/3rds of my family decided to go with it.

Menu wise, I know my mom is stressed. Most of our dinner time meals consisted of Chicken, rice, some sort of sauce, and a spoonful of veggies on the side of your plate. I wish I could say that since deleting meat from the menu our dinners have been very exciting, but that would be lying. Actually, I really can't even remember anything we've eaten...it's like we haven't. Eaten, that is.

But last night I helped my mother prepare a pretty darn tasty meal. Black bean burgers and zesty carrots! and it was pretty darn delicious.



Preheat oven to 475.

Drain and rinse your beans, then pour into a smallish/medium sized bowl and mash them till they're kind of sticky.


Next, pour in in 1/2 bell pepper (the recipe said to use green, but I thought the red added a prettier color), 1/2 onion, and 3(or more if you'd like) cloves of garlic, all of which you've minced and diced and thrown in a food processor before adding to the mashed beans.





In a small bowl crack an egg. add 1 TBS. of chili powder, 1 TBS cumin, and 1 tsp Hot sauce.

Whip it all together, and then add to the bean mixture.

*******

Once the spices and beans are well mixed, pour in bread crumbs. The recipe called for 1/2 cup, but I ended up using a little more.

When the mixture is sticking together enough to support itself, form 4-5 patties and place on a baking sheet.

Place in your 475 degree oven for 10 minutes on each side.

They were a little dry. VERY flavorful, but still dry. The only thing I would do differently would be to drizzle a little olive oil over the burgers before baking.

You also could grill these, 8 minutes for each side.

chop 1 1/2 cups of clean, grated carrots.

Cook in 1/2 cup of water for about 5 minutes. The longer you cook the carrots, the softer they will be, so if you want softer carrots...continue cooking.

When carrots are done cooking, drain them, BUT SAVE 1/4 CUP OF THE WATER!!!

For the sauce, combine the saved water (1/4 C.), 2 TBS grated onion and juice, 1 TBS prepared horse radish, 1/2 C. Mayo., 1/4 C. (or more, to taste!) grated cheddar cheese, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/4 tsp pepper. Mix together, add carrots and mix some more :)

Spoon into a buttered, 2 quart casserole dish.

Then, in another bowl, combine 1 C. fresh breadcrumbs, 1.4 C. butter(melted), and 1 tsp paprika.

Sprinkle over carrots and bake at 350 for 20 minutes.

This is why we watch.

So last night was the Superbowl. And it was just ok this year, but that's only because the Packers won(bleh). But, men in tight shiny pants is not the only reason millions of Americans sit in front of their television sets every year to watch this program. No. Apart from the game you also have half-time, and the commercials.
Now, last year we had The Who at half time. They were pretty good, with their light show and stuff of legend - no matter how much they lip synced....But this year, THIS YEAR, we had *drum roll*...THE BLACK EYED PEAS! And they were....TERRIBLE! If you don't believe me, go look it up on YouTube, or all your friends FB feeds from last night.

The commercials, on the other hand, did NOT disappoint. Here are some of my favorites from last night:

Comment faire du pain delicieux

Last week, on one of my days off, my mother grabbed me on her way out the door and suggested I make bread to keep me busy. I haven't made bread in a really long time, and normally I'm not the one making it, simply the hander-of-ingredients. But there I was, no work to do, house to myself, and not much food hanging around to munch on(that's a good thing really.). So I got out the recipe. This isn't your normal bread recipe though. It was given to us by one of my mom's friends who was also my French(/math/science)tutor, Mrs. Jones.
Not only does Mrs. Jones speak multiple languages, solve mind boggling mathematical equations, and understand physics and the higher sciences, she also cooks amazing food!
Upon entering her house numerous smells of deliciousness smack you in the face, demanding to be noticed, yet hiding somewhere in her kitchen just out of reach. And it's all healthy stuff...well mostly :)
Today I will share with you my day of making this amazingly healthy, satisfyingly delicious, 10 grain bread, and hope that you make it yourself so you can enjoy a slice of mouthwatering goodness, too. :)


FIRST: Gather Ingredients
Oatmeal

• 3 cups of BOILING water
• 2 cups of oats (just the normal oatmeal kind, unless you want to use fancy ones)
• 1/2 stick of butter

When these 3 ingredients are mixed together, you are to let them sit for 20 minutes.

• 2/3 cup of honey
• 1TBSP salt
• 1 cup very warm watter(about 115 degrees)

Porridge

• 3/4 cup "Bob's red mill 10 grain hot cereal"
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 1/2 cups water (room temp)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 3 TBSP yeast
• 7-10 additional cups of flour (for kneading, I used about 9 or so)

Directions!

*Make the oatmeal -

pour 3 cups of boiling water over the 2 cups of oats and 1/2 stick of butter. Let this mixture stand for 20 minutes.

*Make the Porridge-
bring all the ingredients(from the porridge list) to boil and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Let cool to a warm temperature. (I normally make the porridge while I'm waiting for the oatmeal...)

SET YOUR TIMERS!

sitting, waiting, smelling, sitting, waiting, smelling.

this is your 2/3 cup of honey, 1 TBSP salt, and 1 cup(8 oz.) of very warm water. (I used the water that was left over in my tea kettle from boiling for the 3 cups of water for the oatmeal...)

When 20 minutes is up, add the Honey, Salt, and Very Warm Water to the Oatmeal mixture and stir.

Grab the porridge and bring it over :)

2 1/2 cups of flour, 3 TBSP of yeast.

Add the Porridge to the Oatmeal and stir together, then add the 2 1/2 cups flour and 3Tbsp yeast.

Knead the flour and yeast into the wet mixture.


Then...

Stir in the first couple cups of the extra kneading flour. When gets so hard to stir that you wish you had a circus strong man to help you, dump the dough out onto a clean and floured counter. Flour is your friend. Remember that.

Stir in the 7-10 cups, one at a time, kneading until most of the stickiness is gone.

Grease your empty bread bowl, don't be stingy with your pam, or butter, or whatever your non-stick substance of choice is, and return the dough to the bowl.

You're gonna want to flip the dough a couple times to spread the grease around.

Let it rise until it has doubled in bulk, takes about an hour. Cover the dough with a tea towel, or something that isn't fuzzy, and place somewhere warm. Under a light, the back of your stove (if the burners are not on!)etc, away from cold.

Now's a good time to watch this video, since you've got an hour to wait :)














Almost there!






There we go! Try for the 'Muffin-Top' effect.

NOW GO PREHEAT YOUR OVEN TO 350 DEGREES!!!

Now punch the dough in the center, knuckle dusters are not necessary, and pour onto counter.

Cut the dough into four even sized loaves...

and place them in thoroughly greased pans.

Place in your preheated-to-350-oven...

and bake for 45 minutes.

When the timer beeps I suggest you check the loaves. In my oven, this bread is done in exactly 45 minutes, but it may be more or less in your oven.

Remove the baked bread from the oven and slather the tops in butter.

As you can see, I just unwrapped the other half of that stick of butter we used at the beginning and applied it, like so.

When it's cooled enough, tip it out of the pans and eat away.

My favorite is to toast a couple slices, spread some butter on them, and then dribble honey on top. Most delicious! Now go! Try! Enjoy! And have fun!

This is good eats my friend.