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Mythoughts
Mythoughts











mythoughts

Hospitality is not about bowing to the expectations of others.But hospitality is broader than that we can take hospitality with us wherever we go by honoring those around us. We think of hospitality as taking place in our homes.If you’re interested in reading the entire essay, send me a message. I had promised I would summarize a few of the things I learned (and am currently learning!) while researching for an essay on hospitality. Leave a comment Mural: Please like and subscribe How did this happen? Posted on AugAugby Trish Posted in Narratives Tagged aging, Andalusia, breakfast, culture, exercise, food, life, people, shopping, summer, sunrise. And I certainly don’t like to be the first customer to charge into a freshly opened store. “Uh, no thank you.” I turn down the mint. We are ready to burst through those automatic doors…as soon as they open. In front of us are several other elderly citizens, leaning on the carts they collected from the parking lot. “Do you want a mint to entertain yourself while you wait?” A gentleman digs around in his plaid shirt pocket as we stand outside of Mercadona. I come home to do a few exercises, start my laundry, shower, eat breakfast, and then walk up to the supermarket in the far corner of town. Now that summer has cranked up the heat, I drag myself out of bed for a before-the-sun walk. I’m not used to getting up earlier than the rest of the world–well, the rest of the world except those old people, of course. You know, those old people who wait outside of stores until they open because they have nothing better to do. I had an evening date with the air conditioning. On my way back to the apartment, I crossed through Plaza de las Flores where everyone was in slow motion, eating an early dinner or meandering through the warm plaza. Apparently, the “open 24 hours” listing on my maps app doesn’t apply to August… or maybe I still didn’t find the right spot. At my third pass-by, I realized street work hid the walls from view and made them inaccessible.

mythoughts

I made another attempt at the Arab walls. I just stood there and listened for long moments. Someone with squeaky shoes left squeaky echoes after she had disappeared around the corner. There in the plaza, the silence was astonishing. Somehow, with a malfunctioning sense of direction, delayed maps app, and winding downtown streets, I ended up in Plaza Mayor instead of in front of the monumental Arab walls. Men with fat, unlit cigars dangling from their lips crossed my path. I smelled chwarmas before I passed the chwarma shop and then a spice that transported me the North African old medina. The smells began to overwhelm me in the way that they often do when I allow myself time to smell them. I would have studied it more had a man not been lounging in its shade.įrom there, I circle back to find the Arab walls. And there was a catalpa tree with long beans dripping from it. I strolled through the Paseo de Malecón and tried to snap a photo of red red roses that decided not to be photogenic in the blazing sunlight. When I peered over the railing, they eyed me expectantly. Readers will expand their knowledge with recipes for sourdough breads made with a variety of flours like rye, spelt and ancient grains-plus a very special sourdough starter for sweet, rich pastries.Pasarela Manterola, a pedestrian suspension bridge, moved as we walked across it, just enough to make me wonder if my mango smoothie had made me tipsy–Am I imagining this mild motion sickness? A young man serenaded us with “Stand By Me” while ducks below fought over the bread crusts someone had tossed to them. This book will turn any amateur baker into a professional. It’s for anyone who wants to dive deeper into the underlying processes of good bread, master sourdough fermentation, and understand what affects yeast, bacteria and enzymes and how they work. This book is a hook cast into deep churning waters that bubbles to the surface the wonders and wisdom of the science behind bread. It ­reveals the secrets of artisanal sourdough baking as it weaves an intricate web linking the processes of dough fermentation and the human psyche. Mixing sensitivity and humor, Bread and My Thoughts is written by the four hands of two passionate baking instructors. Literally taking life between both hands, she opened a micro sourdough bakery in her village-and the rest is history. Little did she know it would open a magic door to a fascinating world destined to pave a new path for her calm suburban existence. One day, a middle-aged woman signed up for a baking class.













Mythoughts