I was washing out the big bowl that I use for raising bread this afternoon and turned around to see the sun shining through the window, and my bread dough resting on the counter, and thought: "hey, I'm home."

So of course I grabbed the camera so you could see it as well. All our mismatched pans hanging on our second hand pot rack, next to the refrigerator with all our old magnets on it. My very worn copy of the Tassajara Bread Book. My coffee pot. My morter and pestle.

Stop by and visit, I'm usually home, since I think deep down I have a fear that if I leave the house it will disappear in my absence.