Daily Bread

It’s extraordinary, really, how much beauty there is in the course of an ordinary week. Here are some things I found on my camera from this week, one I don’t think I’d remember as being so lovely, but for the evidence of so many tiny moments of happiness.

Naturally, I made lunches out of that bread.

And we celebrated. My husband’s 47th birthday, for which chocolate was the only acceptable gift. From Bittersweet, a nice shop dedicated to exotic, interesting, very chocolate-y chocolate. Yes, dear reader, I led him into temptation.

We also celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. (That’s us, in the tiny wedding picture. On the bales of hay? My mother and her sister, in 1934. Behind her, my husband’s mother when she was a little girl.) The flowers came from the farmer’s market we went to on Sunday. They’re a wonderful autumn color, I thought.

We went on a hike one evening after work  and looked out across the bay toward San Francisco. It became dark very quickly. You can tell fall’s approaching.  There are other signs of fall in the leaves on a few of the trees in our neighborhood, but mostly, fall makes itself known by the changes in the air and the light.

On Wednesdays, in the plaza I cross to get to my office, there’s a farmer’s market. There are still berries to be had, even though it’s October.


Thursday, I got my hair cut in Union Square, sort of ground zero for the cable car line. I never notice them, except today when I heard this one coming down the hill behind me, its bell being rung by an enthusiastic conductor.

I also went to a wonderful exhibit of quilts by the women of Gee’s Bend, Alabama. And that’s what I’m going to write about this weekend, if I have time. Quilts and race. But this morning, I just want to record that our daily bread, what we never notice about where we live and how we go about our lives, is something for which I’m very grateful.

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19 thoughts on “Daily Bread

  1. I try to force myself to do just that: take any opportunity to contemplate the little happy moments, the funny instants, the beautiful glimpses. Nice pictures. You bread looks just like mine. I wonder how it smells, though.

    And happy anniversary !

  2. What a lovely inspiring post. I love the idea of looking out for little beautiful things that you might otherwise overlook. I think I may take the camera around with me next week and see what lovely moments I can capture.

    Mmmmm, is that bread sourdough? I love sourdough! And bitter dark chocolate. And strawberries, raspberries and blackberries! Yum yum! (Helen concentrated solely on the food!)

    Happy Birthday to your husband, and Happy Anniversary. My husband’s birthday was last week!

  3. I loved the snippets from your life. Funnily enough, I went around the last few days appreciating the beauty of my surroundings and feeling like I wanted to post pictures of some lovely things I saw. (I just need to work out how to do it technically, first.)

    Congratulations on the BL family anniversary and birthday!

  4. Great pictures. I kept thinking….. why does she not mention the book store?
    So I re-read.
    Nope! Nothing about a bookstore. Hmmm. But look at that picture of a bookst….. OHHHHHHHH!
    That’s chocolates? Lined up like books?
    Wow. That is avante-garde, cutting-edge choclatism!
    [How much did you buy?]

  5. Mandarine — A little yeasty, a bit sour, very tasty. And thank you for the anniversary wishes. I’ve been enjoying your recent posts about marriage.

    Hello Helen — Well, yes, it is indeed the food we’re after here in the BlogLily household: chocolate, berries, and bread: not so expensive and so much pleasure.

    Hi Charlotte: I am not so good at the technical things myself. I always feel like a miracle has taken place when I plug my camera into my computer, and the pictures magically appear. I’m certain if I can do it, anyone can.

    Hello Cipriano– A lot. I am not confessing just how much. But I’ll put it like this: think of what it would be like to walk into a bookstore and see a lot of books that aren’t terribly expensive and they have lovely lovely covers and they smell so incredibly good and just one, one more, one more, one more. It was sort of like that, which I have to say on reflection is very much like a good visit to a good bookstore.

  6. I don’t know anyone who can take… edible photos the way you do, Bloglily. They all look so sparkly and fresh and delightful. You have a real talent with that camera of yours. And many congratulations on your anniversaty! 15 years is quite something.

  7. Every now and then, supermum goes through a bread phase and the house (in a nice way) smells like a bakery for days. Food (posh chocolate, walnut bread, how-much-did-you-say-that-was-chorizo) is probably the major reason we still have such a damn huge mortage. Lovely photos.
    Fifteen years is a milestone we hit earlier this year. Strange, strange feeling.

  8. Oh that bread…it made my mouth water. And that picture of your neighborhood made me feel a little homesick–it looks a lot like my old neighborhood. I lived up on Walnut, a couple of blocks past the park.

  9. Hi Litlove, Yes, I suppose it’s obvious how much food we consume in the course of a week! I’m working on making it food that’s good for the body as well as the eye, and the taste buds. My guess is that goodbadmumanddad is in the same boat as we are: all that posh chocolate is actually making it impossible for us to pay down our mortgage. Still, it is hard to resist. BikeProf, what a nice street to live on. Even though Peet’s coffee has proliferated, the one on Walnut is the best there is. (We live in the Elmwood, off Claremont Avenue, near the Star Grocery, but it is the same ecosystem as where you lived: the same breads, coffee, fruit and veg shops, and mix of cheap and not so cheap places to eat.) Dorothy, I agree about the bread. Sometimes I try to make bread, because I’m interested in the weird thing that is yeast, but then I give up because so many bakeries have figured it out so well already.

  10. Lovely, lovely images! Of course, I’m biased towards food. I have a theory about bread, which just looks heavenly in your photo. If you go to a restaurant and the bread is good, you’re in for a really good meal. If the bread is bad, most likely you’re not. I imagine your “restaurant” would be the sort that inspires me to go home and try to replicate dishes in my own kitchen. Thanks for sharing.

  11. Thanks for sharing your beautiful photos, and your week. I love the picture of the chocolate store– at first, I thought those were books, and somehow it’s even better now that books and chocolate are mixed up in my perception of it!

  12. I’ve reached here too late. All that food will have been eaten. I find I am an object of amusement as I always make sure I have one of my cameras within reach, where-ever I am. Those moments of beauty and flashes of clarity occur at random. Thank you for sharing some which happened in your life.

  13. Archie–We never run out of food.  There’s always something in the cupboard here. So, Welcome! My children give me a hard time about that camera too. I wonder if they’ll be glad when they’re grown up and want to know what fall looked like in 2006. Edwin — The raspberries were good last week. This week, a little sour. With enough sugar, the taste of summer can linger one more week and then we’re on to melon, then apples and pears and citrus. Hi Renee, Yes, it IS just like a bookstore. And the cafe is wonderful. Bittersweet is on College Avenue, quite near Diesel Books, if you know that neighborhood. Emily, As always, you’re exactly right: judging a restaurant by the quality of the bread (and whether they know how to present you with a pot of tea) is a workable formula.

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