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Homemade bread

When I step outside of my busy mind, I see and hear good things. After sharing my struggles on the blog the other day, I began to feel more comfortable in my skin.

Something strange happens when I write: articulating vulnerable feelings give me a chance to inspect what those feelings are made of, like a bunch of false messages that I’ve accepted as truth about myself. I would never be this harsh to a friend, but to myself, I’m quick to judge.

I was starting to feel better but it dramatically improved when I heard a familiar knock on our door. My neighbor and her 2 kiddos stopped by to deliver her delicious homemade bread. My kiddos call it “the legendary bread,” soft and most right out of the oven. The best part is tearing off the first soft piece of bread and smearing it with jam.

Seeing them made us grateful and happy for kind neighbors. Thanks V for thinking of us!

My neighbor V and her cute poodle

Thanks everyone for stopping by and reading! Hope your week is going well. – Esther

P.s. I think this is the first time I’m sharing a picture of a friend on my blog. I usually mention them by first initial. But from now on I’d like to include pictures of friends and people we know, wi,th their consent of course, to show a different side of our lives.1..

Categories: Personal growth Random Thoughts

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singlikewildflowers

Welcome to my blog! My name is Esther and I'm so happy you are here. I'm an avid nature photographer and a daydreaming thinker. My posts revolve around photos of nature's beauty, homeschooling adventures with my 2 kids, sporadic reflections on my child's heart condition, Bible reading reflections, gardening feats, and other mish mash things. Hopefully you'll leave encouraged, pensive, or smiling at the simple things of life. Thank you for stopping by and hope you'll find some interesting posts to read!

9 replies

      1. My neighbor Marge, who I have mentioned to you in the past, got a bread maker from one of her kids one year. That son was into cooking and had all his cookware in the garage and Marge took him to see Emeril LaGasse one time for his birthday. Anyway, he bought his parents a bread-making machine and the fixings. Her husband had retired and they made a loaf of bread every morning until they couldn’t fit into their pants anymore. 🙂 I love bread especially crusty bread.

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