Born and Bread

This is a post that I first put up some time back, repeated again in 2024, and now, for those who have never seen it, I present to you Tim's family reunion/bread baking. 

 The broccoli salad is done and in the fridge. 

I cleaned the kitchen, and washed dishes. 

Soon I will go out and try my hand at two loaves of dough to go with us tomorrow. 

This is an old post, very old, from 2005 or 6, but I love it still. 

Shall We Bake Bread Together

Some of you may remember reading about Tim's Uncle Herman.

This is Uncle Herman's cane. He wants to make sure that you all understand that this is not sassafras, but hickory. So if you are inclined to make your own cane, he guesses you'd want to tie a knot in a hickory sapling. Then you patiently wait three years, and then go out there and cut it down. Varnish it up and put a rubber tip on it, and there you go. You got yourself a dandy walking stick. It is also good for emphasizing a point when you are talking.

Anyways, this is a brick oven that Uncle Herman and Uncle Harold made years upon years upon years ago. Uncle Harold passed on, oh, probably, 8 years ago now (Edit: remember this was originally put up about 2005 or so, which means that uncle Harold has been gone nearly 30 years now). Well, Tim and I got up early, and were on the road at 7 AM, because we had to pick up Uncle Herman at 9, sharp. We were driving him out to Uncle Harold's. Tim and he had the mighty responsibility of getting the brick oven fired up. Well. Uncle Herman had the responsibility, Tim being a mere peon in the operation.The fire is started. Once the oven heats up to 425 or 450 or so, once the bricks are good and hot, you reach in there and drag out all the fire.
Then you begin to fill it with all the different kinds of bread.

It will hold about 22 loaves.Keep on keeping on, Mike and Dave. There's about 40 loaves of bread there, two firings worth.Uncle Herman has to keep an eye on the young wet-behind-the ears-whipper snappers. A very close eye.
While we wait for the bread to bake, people socialize. Here are two of the matriarchs of this mighty gathering. Anna is on the left. She is Herman's wife. Aunt Mary Jane is the widow of Uncle Harold. She's in a nursing home now, but was able to come back home to her farm to spend the day with her family.This is the view behind the bread oven.
Now, while Uncle Herman might well be the undisputed master of the brick oven, everyone knows that Aunt Anna is the undisputed judge of when the bread is done. That's her in the foreground cutting into a 'test' loaf. The hand on her back is pretending to be supportive, but he's actually sticking real close to be the taste tester. The greedy critter just wants the first bite. Don't you think the woman carefully documenting this day should be the taste tester? Excuse me while I put down my camera and go straighten this deluded character out.

Okay.

I'm back.

Man.

Driven mad by the prolonged exposure to the smell of baking bread, the old guy fought hard.

I did not want it said that I, an outsider, was responsible for bloodshed at the

Oglesby-Winkler family reunion.

So I cried.

He shared.

DO NOT JUDGE ME!

It may have been 'pity bread' but it was warm from the oven!

Little toes wiggle in delight.

Finally, Anna gives the official, unchallengeable word. 'The bread is ready to come out of the oven.' The crowds roared.

Well.

They began to salivate in earnest, anyways.

Tim and Gene get right to work. The crowds press in from all sides. Can you blame them? Imagine a table of fresh hot bread, with butter, and honey butter, herb butter, and honey from Aletha's hives, and jams, not just the Welch's, but Uncle Chuck's homemade strawberry jam, and Ellen's elderberry jam, so many others, homemade.

Ooooooh.

And we broke bread together.

And, lo, it was good.

Very, very good.

Here endeth the old post. 

Uncle Herman is gone now. If memory serves me, Aunt Anna is the only one remaining from that generation. All her sisters and brothers are gone now. Uncle Herman died probably 10 years ago now.  Aunt Anna is still plugging along and she is surrounded by kids, by grands, by great grands, even great-great grands, and they love her and take very good care of her. 

Tim is the bread baker now. He runs the oven by himself. But people gather and we still break bread together and we still sit in the shade of the trees eating bread fresh from the oven and remembering those who taught us the art of it all: bread and family and tradition.