The Staff Of

I started to call Rose and tell her she was right.

Then I remembered Rose doesn’t need a phone anymore. She hears what I am thinking without a device these days. Life is less complicated in heaven.

Smiling I put my phone down, as I remembered when my best friend got her new bread maker as a gift. It was a Mothers Day gift about thirty years ago, and Rose was totally infatuated with her new acquisition.

So much so, that bread making became not only a daily task, but soon` two or three times a day, the little machine would purr.

Then Rose, being such a good friend, would distribute several beautifully wrapped loaves of fragrant bread to all her friends. My husband and I were two of the lucky recipients.

The first few loaves were welcomed with pleasure. The second batch not quite as appreciated since we still hadn’t finished eating all of the first gift.

The third, well our thank you was just a bit forced. And well, I won’t tell you how we handled the next few loaves.

The bread was good. Rose was right, and I knew all of her friends were grateful for her generosity. It was simply a matter of how much bread the average person ingested.

None of us quite knew how to handle the situation. However, Dan, our friend and her husband. abruptly ended the increasingly growing intrusion into his once tranquil home by a machine

Dan adamantly announced to Rose that he could not listen one more moment to the incessant humming the bread maker made. The appliance had to take a hiatus or vacation or move permanently to a new home. He suggested perhaps he might even know of a refuge for unwanted appliances.

Rose immediately heard his message. In the years that followed, while once in a while we received a welcome gift of bread, it didn’t happen often.

Now three decades later in the midst of an seemingly unending winter of snow and gloom, the need for something new recently emerged in my life. I had read a review of the best new appliances for 2019 and guess what. I bought a breadmaker.

And dear Rose, I know you are listening. You were right. It is such fun.

The apartment even has an amazing aroma all the time. I am slightly worried, however that I am becoming obsessed with my new preoccupation because I even enjoy the constant hum as the magical machine works. I must, if not stop, at least slow down. I realize that

But meanwhile what am I going to do with all this bread?