I'm up for another 40 minutes. Waiting for the bread to come out of the oven. Yep, homemade bread, mmm. Thanks to Kristal for inspiring me to make bread when she talked about making it every Saturday morning. Hmm, thanks or no thanks, I'm not sure. I read the recipe (Dietitians of Canada cookbook, of course) and decided it was so easy, I should just do it tonight. Sounded like a good idea at 7:30, but my eyes are really heavy and I'm wishing I could just go to bed right now. Since I can't, I'm here rambling. Sorry.
I was listening to CBC radio last night. Some guy is just finishing his 50 jobs in 50 States in 50 weeks adventure. It sounded pretty cool so I was listening closely (thank goodness). I thought being a surfing instructor, working at a winery, and other things sounded pretty cool. When he asked what one job stood out to him, I never expected (in fact, I almost fell over) to hear being a dietitian! Seriously? In fact, I feel funny telling this story because I think I must need to replay that and check that fact. He said something about with the obesity issue, its a complex, interesting job (I was still recovering from the shock of what he said, that next line is kind of fuzzy). I always thought my job is pretty cool, but to hear that just made me really happy.
Sunday morning I had a little adventure. After playing with the kids downstairs for a bit, I went up to make us some oatmeal for breakfast. I got it on the stove and since things were still so quiet and peaceful downstairs, I started doing a few other things. Then, it dawned on me that maybe things were too peaceful. When I headed downstairs I saw the front door wide open and the bike that had been sitting in the porch was gone. Once outside, I quickly realized they were long gone, out of our quiet bay. I wished I had time to put some clothes on, but decided against it. Grabbed a sweater and and sandals and went running down the street in my pajamas with my crazy morning hair flying. I headed one way, then decided to turn around and try the other way first. I was worrying I was wasting time going the wrong way. Luckily a kind, old lady stepped out of the house and pointed me down the street and around the corner. Rounding the corner, I saw my 3 and 1 year old in bare feet and their pajamas. One riding his bike and the other one pushing a fire truck. Still running away from me. How far would they have gone if they had the chance I wonder? They both spent some time crying on their beds and Kellen did not get to play with his trucks the rest of the day.
I'll let you know how the bread adventure turns out.