Enter flour, salt, yeast, and water. I’m amazing at being impatient. It runs in my family—and humanity—so I have to practice. I have to practice waiting and pausing and extending kindness in the frustration that tags along. In the last few years, baking...
There’s a tree across the street from my house, just to the right, fully visible through the window panes of my front porch. It bends and twists and stretches slightly crooked up to the sky. On mornings like today, the sun touches it little by little, and it seems so...
