Not Me Monday - Bread Machine Blues

I have not been frequenting garage sales this summer.

That was not me you saw buying the van console Keith said was ugly. It goes in my van, not his pregnant roller skate Geo Metro. I looked beyond the ugliness and saw a trash can, coin sorter, and four cup holders. I do not get excited over cupholders just because whoever designed our eleven seater van only put in one cupholder. We don't mind sharing one cupholder. My kids love to share

I did not buy a bread machine at a garage sale for $5. Since I already have a Bosch Universal Machine that mixes dough for six loaves at one time, and six people live in our house, buying a machine that only makes one bread loaf at a time isn't practical.

I did not see a wonderful machine that facilitates virtually mess-free bread making. No greasing bread pans, no forming loaves, no heating up the house. We could enjoy homemade bread without gaining weight because with one loaf, no one could pig out.

I was not bothered that it came without an instruction manual. You can find anything on the internet, right? So I couldn't find the exact manual. Close enough works for me.

I was not fazed when the first loaf was too big. Experimenting is how you learn. Less flour and yeast next time.

So after two weeks of trial and error and getting the hang of it, I did not feel confident enough to try the time bake option. I did listen when Keith suggested I not try something like that overnight just in case something went wrong. Wise man.

I did not add leftover oatmeal from breakfast to the dough like I would with regular bread.

I did not get alarmed when the girls noticed smoke coming out of the bread machine. Or when I looked in the machine and saw the dough had risen way too high and had fallen down outside the pan on the heating coils and made a royal stinky smoking mess. The dough had already started cooking so I couldn't take it out to finish cooking in the oven. There was cooked and uncooked dough everywhere so I couldn't get the pan out of the machine.

I did not plug the machine in on the back deck and let it finish cooking and smoking outside without stinking up the house.

Maybe it was the oatmeal?

Being frugal, optimistic, and hard-nosed, I did not cut off the burned parts and make the girls eat it anyway. So the texture was a little strange.

Keith did not shake his head and say, "You're something else."

Click over to My Charming Kids to read what MckMama and other bloggers have not been doing this week.