This morning the bread didn't rise.
Which was odd because I've been using the bread maker for a while and normally it's perfect.
But thinking back to last night, I might have been indulging in a bit of multitasking at the time.
Just a bit. Let me see if I can remember...
I know the supper was on - pasta - which cannot be overcooked, so I was prodding it. And I took the food bin out onto the patio, emptied it and sloshed it round with boiling water and bleach, which meant walking backwards and forwards from the kitchen a bit. The tumble drier was on, and I wanted to see if I could stop it before the cycle ended for the new T shirt not to shrink...just six minutes more should do it...I think I'm right in saying the bread maker pan was out and I was filling it up with yeast (I think) and of course, flour, while looking up in the booklet, the amounts for sugar, salt and water.
It may have been at this point that I helped with some Spanish homework (feeling pleased that my studies in that marvellous language had not gone to waste) YES!! I can look up Spanish irregular verbs whilst testing pasta, pouring bleach, weighing flour, watching the tumble drier and composing a tweet about it all, AND thinking about the church service and all the books on mission I haven't read yet.
Somewhere in all of the above, clearly, I left out the yeast.
Which must be a huge metaphor, if you think about it, for life. Or something profound like that.
Studies in neuroscience have proved we're all getting worse at deep concentration due to multitasking. One of the best things for me about going on a retreat day is that at 11 o'clock I get up from my chair, where I have been reading, and cross to the table, switch the kettle on, wait for it to boil, make myself a coffee, sit down in the chair again and drink it. All. And thank God. Full stop. One thing at a time. Is it any longer possible?
If you leave out the yeast, the bread won't be bread. And though you need more than bread to live, it is a good starting point.