Gray skies continued to darken here all morning, and finally
around 9:00 released their tears to drill the lake with unrelenting schrapnel-drops. Thunder rumbled like
an advancing army, ever closer.
Unexpectedly, at 9:15, the wind stilled, rain turned to
gentle dimples, and thunder ran the other way, yelping and retreating with its
tail between its legs. Maybe I’d
take a walk after all? But no, it
returned, bringing cold dampness that settled in, like a bulldog or maybe an opinionated
tomcat, to stay.
Meanwhile, I gave up on walking and decided to bake instead.
At church this coming Saturday a group of women be reviewing The True Vine by
Andrew Murray - conversing about the application of Jesus’ parable of the grapevine
and its branches in John 15 to everyday life. So I decided to bake grape-cluster-shaped breads to share at
our luncheon before the book discussion.
Here they are, before rising…
…and here's one during rising…
…and after baking.
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