Some mornings are just meant to be the solo sort. It seems more of these me, myself and I mornings are in store for me now.
Sometimes the sky is so blue and sunny, and the crispness in the air demands an ambling morn before winter winds knock on windowpanes.
Sometimes paper birds carry off the dress I want to wear.
Sometimes vintage mixers are mine for the having. Sometimes they are not [yet?].
Sometimes (most times) I wish I were in that airplane.
Sometimes I find Sustenance from other bakers whose values I trust. Sometimes those bakers really capture the changing seasons in a sweet [potato] biteful.
Sometimes the words on paper fit just right. (Sometimes you can read better if you click on images)
Sometimes solo Saturdays take a turn toward unwanted words, but at least, at the end of the day, after those unwanted words are said, the sun sometimes looks like this, and there’s a friend on the stoop for support.
Then there was Sunday, and it was a beautiful, beeeeeautiful Sunday!