It’s been one of those mind-numbingly boring weekends. Rain – and not just a miserable winter drizzle, but a torrential, thunder-n-lightning tempest – has kept me inside, and I need to go shopping for Thanksgiving dinner fixin’s.
I have one lonely can of French-cut green beans, and not much else. No turkey or ham thawing in the fridge, no yams, or pecans for pies. I’m even out of bread. That is if you don’t count cranberry-orange breakfast bagels. Those do contain cranberries, but I have a feeling it’s an unsatisfactory substitute for actual relish.
There have been half-hearted jokes made before about my hermetic decline when it comes to leaving my house for simple household errands. For these reclusive days, I bring out my bread machine so I can at least make sandwiches or have something to wrap around a grilled hamburger more substantial than lettuce.
On rainy weekends like this one, I’m especially thankful that I can bake my own bread. It’s really quite convenient. Throw the ingredients into the bread pan, tap a couple of buttons, then forget about it for two hours. The dough is then dumped out, shaped into rolls, proofed and baked. Minimal effort, excellent results. All done without having to change out of my pajamas, or brush my hair.
I still have to weather the dreaded grocery run soon, and hopefully not have to pick over rejected leftovers for our Thanksgiving dinner. Otherwise, we may have to be happy with Hamburger Helper or Chinese takeout delivery this Thursday.
I’m grateful for:
- Bread machines
- A well-stocked grocery store
- Takeout restaurant deliver