A project I had been tiptoeing around, quietly planning and mulling over. It's taken me over a year and a half to finally pick up my inky pen, and go for it.
I started a baking journal.
A very special girlfriend of mine gave me a beautifully crafted leather bound book, especially for my recipes. The pages are just so special to me, that I was terrified to start, just in case I made a mistake.
Which I did. Of course.
I have great plans for this journal. Plans that one day in the very far away future, my grand children and maybe even great grandchildren will cook these recipes and pour over my handwriting, trying to get each line correct. Cursing me for having such cursive handwriting and commenting on how much sugar I use when I bake... Oops..
As I was penning my first entry, I realised just how much I missed writing. Even just writing without purpose. I missed sending thoughts out into the abyss.
And so I decided to start writing again. Even if it's just for me. Even if nobody knows. It's nice to just write.
Xx
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