My Sourdough Journey: Epilogue

Some people say there is no God but I believe that there is.

I didn’t get the full-time role that I’d applied for at Ascension Trust. Instead, I got a better paid, part-time role as the coordinator for one of their affiliate charities: Word For Weapons. Not only was the role more suitable in terms of my career level but it would afford me the privilege of having time each week to work on my personal business and other goals-sourdough included.-while still having a decent salary.

I saw it as a God-given blessing that I had done nothing to deserve, and so I prepared myself to embark on another step of my journey-my sourdough journey-determined to make the best use of this time.

Gone were the sunny scenes of Hay-on-Wye. In place of the wonderful scenes through different bedroom windows where I’d stayed,

Scene through one of my windows in Hay-on-Wye - at the start of the day, all creatures looked to the horizon in anticipation of a blissful summer's day. . .

Scene through one of my windows in Hay-on-Wye – at the start of the day, all creatures looked to the horizon in anticipation of a blissful summer’s day. . .

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My Sourdough Journey: Chapter Eight – Bread Rations . . .

A few weeks later, my friend, Lisa, from Leominster, invited me to her friend’s birthday party. Hay was a great place but like anywhere, it was good to get away sometimes. This time, however, I was spared the rigours of public transportation and instead got a ride in the delivery van with Alex’s dad, Malcolm. He had another delivery to make before going to Leominster to deliver to a cool little health shop, known locally as Nitty Gritty, that was just around the corner from Lisa’s house. I was looking forward to going the rounds and though it was to be as circuitous a journey as the bus ride, I anticipated that it would certainly be more lively. Continue reading

My Sourdough Journey: Chapter Six – Bakery Bites

Work moved along steadily at the bakery. The first goal I set for myself was to taste one of everything that was produced there; and the first on the list was the cinnamon buns. My friend, Lisa from Leominster, had told me about these. She didn’t know what their correct name was, she was only able to describe them to me. “Sweet and soft and sticky and full of cinnamon; melts in your mouth when you bite into it and oh so nice!” is what she had said to me. “You must try it.” Continue reading