When Your Mind Stops & Your Hands Keep Going
This is one of the best times of year for me. I love to cook — especially as I’m mastering the art of sourdough — and I’m having fun coming up with new flavor combinations. It’s pretty fun, and honestly, really easy!
This is our family’s season. Three of our four birthdays are in the fall. The holidays. Football and fires in the fireplace. Rewatching our favorite shows and movies.
If we know anything, it’s how precious time is. We know how it feels to miss our favorite people — the ones taken away too soon — and wish we could trade places with them, just to give them more than what they were dealt.
In this second half of life, I’m re-learning how to do a lot of things. Blame it on middle age, hormones, or trauma — maybe all three — but I’m re-learning how to stick to a routine. I’ve realized I’ve been perpetuating the franticness that’s defined most of my adult life. Always busy. Always juggling something.
As I write these words, I’m surrounded by half-finished to-dos: laundry to fold, another load to rotate, a dishwasher to unload, coffee to prep for tomorrow, dinner to plan — and two loaves of sourdough resting between their first and second stretch-and-fold sets.
Idle time isn’t great for a lot of people, and I’m one of them. I’m guilty of doom-scrolling, binge-watching trash TV, and procrastinating — all bad habits that have found their way into too many of my todays.
So, let’s start doing things together again.
Today, I’m sharing how I stumbled into my sourdough obsession — one that’s become a kind of therapy. Admit it, we all tried it once. Some gave up. Some kept going. I did both.
I first tried in the summer of 2023. I couldn’t keep it alive. I gave up. Then, around this time last year, I decided to try again. I had to make a second starter because the original — lovingly named Doughrothy — caught a little of the pink death.
Sourdough Tip & Trick: If it’s red, it’s dead.
Today, Doughrothy Jane is thriving — and giving all the love a sourdough starter should give.
If you’ve ever wanted to try (or retry) making your own, I’m sharing my process in the recipe that goes along with this post.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for being here.
XOXOXO,
B
Sometimes the quiet work of my hands says what my heart can’t. Between laundry, coffee, and sourdough stretch-and-folds, I’m learning how the smallest routines can anchor me — helping me find stillness, presence, and gratitude in this second half of life.