This picture doesn't have much to do with anything aside from the fact there's a flower in my hair.
Plus I was already Mama's little helper in the kitchen by then.
I have a great friendship with flour. Last semester I came to love my sewing machine and the library, but this semester, I've grown to have a love affair with flour. There's something especially therapeutic about kneading dough and smelling the yeast in the oven. Last, Thursday was particularly rough day, but things started to get better when I made some biscuits with leftover buttermilk. I know I should have been exercising and sweating sickness away, but my body was screaming at me to hold still, so I opted to bake instead. I'm pretty sure its in my blood.
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