Kipilefti

Yesterday I tried baking the Times no-knead bread again. It looked beautiful but, like the first time, wasn’t quite baked enough. My impromptu oven just can’t get up to the temperature you need for artisan-style bread. Still, it was good with the last of the chili I made a few days ago.

When I finished dinner I left the bread on the kitchen table and left the window next to it open, like I always do. Then I went to my room to practice the mandolin. When I came back later to shut the window for the night, the bread was gone.

A student must have reached through the bars on the window, grabbed the bread, and taken it. There is no other explanation (unless a teacher did it). People often pass by my back porch on their way to and from the water pump, and if one had gotten up onto the porch they would have been able to see into the kitchen easily.

I was quite angry. Partly because that bread was going to be breakfast, and part of dinner! But mostly because now I have to act more cautiously, can’t even leave the window open if I’m not around. I hate acting suspiciously but if it’s warranted I have no choice. Already I’ve moved my utensils away from the window.

I slept poorly, brooding over my lost bread. I was going to go up to Bulongwa today to give Bret his birthday present and see everyone, but my poor sleep and bad mood, combined with the torrential rain that rained all night and rains still, made me decide against it. Maybe a quiet weekend at home is what I need. But man, I’m hungry for bread!