The wind whips at my face, pulling at my coat and tossing my hair in my face as I walk out of the house. A hint of freshly baked bread fills my nose and I smile. Thanksgiving is almost here!
To say I am excited is definitely an understatement. Thanksgiving is absolutely my favorite holiday. Family, friends, good food and crisp weather. There is nothing better!
In preparation for the big day of yumminess, A and I spent the weekend baking. Dinner rolls, cinnamon rolls, pies…everything we couldn’t have last year. The smell of baking bread filled the house. Flour coated the counters. Dough stuck to my fingers.
It was perfect.
There is something about baking, the smell, the warmth, particularly when the weather is frigid, that fills my heart with joy. I missed the mixing and kneading, adding and pouring, shaping and tasting of baking. I missed the yeasty smell of rising bread dough, the sweetness of cookies fresh from the oven, the steam rising from freshly baked muffins.
This, baking, is utter contentedness.