Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

Last post of the day I promise…

I’ve reached the stage of life where I name jars of flour and water and treat them like they’re newborn children. Welcome to the world, Garth.

After having a dream about sourdough, I ordered a kit and decided this was clearly a sign from the universe that I needed another responsibility in my life. You know, because raising a toddler, two dogs, and a husband wasn’t enough.

I spent an embarrassing amount of time making sure his consistency was right. Too dry. More water. Too thick. More stirring.

Then came the accessories.

Garth now has a fancy glass jar, a temperature strip, a little bracelet to track his progress, and what I can describe as a designer bonnet.

After moving him around the kitchen twelve times, I finally found the perfect spot. Not too sunny. Not too drafty. Safe from my curious toddler.

Now comes the hardest part. The key to sourdough is to leave it alone. No feeding. No stirring. No checking on him every seventeen minutes.

So here we are. Day one of sourdough parenthood. Garth is tucked in for the night and I’m aware that I’ve already photographed this jar more times than some people photograph their actual children.

Wish us luck.