I set the bag on the counter next to the bread machine, and carefully read the recipe instructions. And what kind of flour did I end up using? No, not the bread flour that was sitting right next to the bread machine, but the bag of all-purpose flour that was way up high in the baking stuff cabinet. I actually had to get a chair, climb up, find the bag, open it, measure it out, and pour it in the bread pan. I didn't realize my blunder until a good 15 minutes later, when I was thinking about how to store the extra bread flour and realized that I never even opened the bread flour. And to my horror, I saw the all-purpose flour sitting innocently on the counter, far from the bread machine, but obviously opened and used.
Meanwhile, the bread machine churned away, merrily mixing up the rogue dough with nary a worry.
Oh well. There's no emergency stop button on the bread machine, so I had to make do and whip up another loaf of bread. Funny, cuz in the past that would have sent me into a frenzy of panic and anger, but I just shrugged, called myself a dum-dum, and started making those lovely Ghirardelli brownies.
Is it the influence of the little person who's on his/her way? I think so. So much is starting to roll off my back, and things seem less critical than they used to. Getting upset over wonky bread is not worth the time and effort. And the little bean was popping about inside me as I baked (poorly), reminding me that there are so many other things in life to worry about that are far more important. And after all, who can get mad when you've got brownies baking in the oven?
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(Cookie image courtesy of Cookie Madness)
