Yesterday started earlier than usual—5:47 AM, to be exact—when it was time to move the yogurt to the fridge. I noticed right away that it hadn’t thickened quite like it normally does. Still, I figured it was worth a try and set it up to strain. I couldn’t fall back asleep afterward, but I gave myself permission to enjoy a slow, quiet morning until it was time to get moving.

What had me most excited was the promise of freshly baked sourdough. It had been a while, but I finally decided to dust off the starter (which had bounced back beautifully) and mix up a batch of dough. It really was like riding a bike—familiar steps, familiar rhythm. After some intense slap-kneading, I squeezed in some light chores and a bit of sewing. It felt good to be back in the groove.

By the time the dough was ready to bake, the neighborhood kids were out and about—and so were mine. The rest of the day unfolded in sunshine and laughter as they ran and played with friends. It was the kind of carefree joy that makes all the hustle worth it.

To top it off, we made it the perfect late spring day for the kids: pizza and ice cream for dinner—dessert first, of course. Because sometimes, the best memories are made when you throw the rules out the window.

The first loaf wasn’t perfect, but it was tasty! I couldn’t help but start another batch right away. Only … I may have jumped the gun on timing. I realized a bit too late that bulk fermentation would be wrapping up smack in the middle of the night. Oops.

Lesson learned—but no regrets. Between yogurt experiments, bread baking, and letting the kids soak up the sunshine and sugar, it was a full and happy day.