I’m not saying I’m losing faith in Garth, but tonight at 8:45 PM on Sunday, Wayne is bubbling, Cassandra is once again showing off, and Garth is sitting there like he has no idea that his future is on the line. This has become personal.
I’ve changed flours. I’ve changed feeding schedules. I’ve given him recess. I’ve provided emotional support. I’ve threatened him. I’ve rooted for him. I’ve defended him. Nothing.
My mother-in-law showed up today with a PINK DUTCH OVEN. Not just a Dutch oven. A pink Dutch oven. She also brought me a lame, a bench scraper, and enough sourdough equipment to suggest she has more confidence in my abilities than I do. So now there’s a beautiful pink Dutch oven sitting in my kitchen waiting to bake someone’s sourdough. At this rate, it might not be Garth’s.
Wayne is doing the work. Cassandra is thriving and making sure everyone knows it. Garth is out here acting like he’s got another six to eight business months to figure things out.
I don’t want to say I’m disappointed in my firstborn, but I didn’t get a pink Dutch oven for nothing…somebody’s getting cooked.
Whining, Wine-ing & Winning 
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