I don't know about you, but the week before I head out of town always seems like a tornado. The week before our fall break trip was no exception. I was trying to do too much in too little time...and my bread making experience was clear evidence.
A sweet friend from church gave me her bread machine a few years ago. It sat on my counter, largely unused (like most bread machines, I fear)...until I found a good honey whole wheat bread recipe. So now I make bread once or twice a week. Because I make it so often, I have memorized the recipe. (Besides that, it's an easy recipe.)
So in my flurry of pre-travel activity, I threw the ingredients together and hit the start button. Usually, I only let the bread machine make the dough, then I take it out, break it into two smaller loaves for the second rise and finish it off in the oven. (Thanks for this tip, Amy...makes all the difference in the world!) Well, I was not surprised to come in from my errands to the smell of freshly baked bread. I had forgotten to take it out after the dough cycle, so it just baked in the bread machine. No big deal. This has happened before. I don't like the taste or consistency as well, but it's still edible.
But not this bread. When I opened up the machine, this is what I saw.
And it was a great heart lesson for me. At the time. Now, as I write this, I can't remember what it is I was supposed to learn. Seriously. I could make something up, but it's probably better to just be honest. :)
(As a side, maybe this is why I feel like I have to keep learning the same things over and over...)