|(photo by the lovely J. Lanae)|
After punching down the dough and dividing it into loaves, I roll the extra flat and bake it on a pizza stone. When I did that yesterday, my little 21-month helper stood on a kitchen chair and insisted on assisting with the cheese (by putting it on the pizza, and then off the pizza and into her mouth).
Watching her, I wondered if some day, when Claire and her future siblings come inside from playing and smell bread baking, they'll know it's pizza night.
Maybe this new rhythm—that I'm creating out of ease—will feel comfortable and reliable to them by then. Maybe it will become tradition. Maybe not.
But traditions. Get me thinking about a word and I'll head to the geekiest dictionary I can find. Definition number one...
tradition: act of delivering into the hands of another
Yes, traditions include a fair amount of repetition and festivity (definition #6). But I love the idea that tradition might first be about giving something, delivering a sort of gift—a gift that passes on a recurring message: "This is what life means. This is how much you mean to me. This is what to rely on when things feel shaky." I hope she gets the message that I mean to send.