will i miss "real" life?

With white dust hands I cradle the warm dough and fold it twice before gently pressing the center with firm fists.  Tucking and punching and stretching I knead the dough until it has that perfect spring.  I let it rest as I turn to preheat my beloved oven.

"Marty went on to the kitchen and as quietly as possible lit the fire in the reliable old kitchen stove. Marty felt a kinship with her stove -- almost like a man with his team, she reckoned. The stove and she worked together to bring warmth and sustenance to this home and family. Of all the things that their home held, the stove, she felt, was really hers."  

-- Janette Oke

pondered by Shelby | photo source

And for a brief instant, as I shape the soft loaves that smell of yeast, my heart aches for this moment.

Although I'm experiencing the rich blessings of sifting flour through fingers and breathing sweet aroma of homemade nourishment, I catch myself breathing a wistful sigh.

And I wonder....

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Read the rest of my post over at Home Sweet Motor Home
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~ Linkin' Up ~