A weekend like this one, when someone decides to murder a bunch of civic-minded folks who have come to a supermarket to chat with their Congresswoman, well, it makes you think about all the things you can’t control in this world.
So I came inside, and I cleaned my floors, and washed my slipcovers, and made an angel food cake with all those egg whites left over from the Christmas profiteroles and then made a loaf of Darina Allen’s Brown Soda Bread (since I was out of regular bread and the sourdough starter needed some time). I’ve got a leftover lamb stew on the stove and the house smells like bread.
I can’t do anything about so much of the craziness of the world. But I can, as Voltaire noted, “tend my own garden.” And so, today, that’s what I did.
cmf
I'm a writer and editor based in Livingston, Montana. I moved to Livingston from the San Francisco Bay area in 2002 in search of affordable housing and a small community with a vibrant arts community. I found both. LivingSmall details my experience buying and renovating a house, building a garden, becoming a part of this community. It also chronicles my efforts to rebuild my life after the sudden death of my younger brother, and closest companion, Patrick in a car wreck.
One comment on “Baking For Sanity …”
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Charlotte,
Your posts have often served to help clarify my own thoughts on difficult situations and spur me on to writing about them myself. In this case, your allusion to Candide helped me make sense of my response as a farmer to tragedy. Thanks for the reminder that despite indignation, sometimes the best we can do is humbly tend our own garden.