12 weeks to go … The countdown to my thesis deadline has begun. This is supposed to be crunch time, days of endless drafting and re-drafting, living like a hermit and backing up my work onto 5 different devices, just in case. The beautiful sunshine must be shut out to stop my house from turning into an oven, and all history-making tennis matches avoided. (Yeah, that didn’t happen. You can’t ignore Wimbledon when you live round the corner from it. Even the local supermarket has changed it’s sign over the last week from Morrisons, to Murrisons, to Murriwins!)
Why is it then, that despite my best intentions, I decide that now would be a really good time to start baking my own bread? I’m not even trying to shoe-horn some quasi-scientific theory about kneading dough being therapeutic or the smell of baking bread releasing endorphins and therefore making you more productive. I just woke up, ran out of bread and decided that baking my own was a better option than just buying some. And this is despite the fact that I still had to go to the shops to buy the ingredients.
Ah well, when it comes to procrastination I am a champion (the house is looking pretty clean these days), and at least you get to eat this, as well as making the neighbours jealous as yummy smells waft out of the window.
Especially delicious with my home-made version of Austrian Cream of Herb soup. Knorr used to make it as a packet mix, and it was my absolute favourite growing up (classy, I know), but one day they stopped making it and seem to have obliterated all trace of it, as I can’t even find a picture online. I LOVED that stuff in all of its luminous green glory, complete with freeze-dried sweetcorn and mushrooms. This is one of those sad occasions where the home-made version just doesn’t quite cut it. Sigh.