Bread Risen or Not

I was reading a blog recently, and I sort of wanted to respond to something. But I realized before I started typing that what I wanted to say wasn't really about the blog, but was instead coming out of my sense of inferiority. It's one of those things that bothers me to realize. The blog post wasn't intended to make anyone feel inferior, I'm sure. It was just commenting on the world. But it's one of those things that just hits me and I get all cranky.

Now, I'm definitely inferior to lots of people. There are folks whose brilliance leaves me astonished. There are folks whose generosity and kindness are beyond my comprehension.

But that wasn't really what my sense was about.

The thing is, there are some real differences, and those differences matter. And there's nothing you can do about the social background you start with, or decisions you made 30 years ago, or whatever. But they do matter.

On the other hand, I'm pretty darned privileged in a lot of ways, too.

Did I mention that my bread didn't rise today. I'm not sure why. Did I not knead enough (I get bored too quickly with kneading). Did I have the water too hot when I dissolved the yeast? Could the yeast already be dead (even though I keep it in a closed container in the freezer between getting some out to bake with).

We had a cold and miserable day today. I didn't even go outside. (But I'm going out right now.) Friday was beautiful, but I didn't get out until after 6pm because I had something I had to take care of. And then all weekend it's been sucky. I'm so very tired of being cold.