Rise and Shine

I didn't go back to sleep. Instead I migrated downstairs, wrapped in my long fleece because the cool morning air was barely 60F, and made myself a cup of tea. Drinking that and eating a piece of sunflower butter toast, I read Lonesome Dove. The Hat Creek band is just about to set out for "Montany" and Gus is sorry to be leaving his sourdough, just as it has hit its prime.

Mmmmm, sourdough. At 5:15, there is plenty of time to put out a cup of starter to warm up in time for breakfast biscuits. Which is exactly what I did. Then for two hours, I read my book until the house started to stir. In fact, it was a relatively calm and relaxing way to start the day, with a little bit of peace and solitude. I don't particularly recommend insomnia--I'm going to be suffering later on only 4 1/2 hours of sleep--but it does at times have its upside (which I believe some of the recent essays on sleeplessness in the NYTimes pointed out; I'm remembering the woman who would reminisce while baking brownies in the middle of the night. I wouldn't want to make a habit of it, either the lack of sleep or the daily biscuits, though. Not too healthy.).

The biscuits are now in the oven, getting plump and eventually golden. In a little while, we'll all gather around the table to tear apart their warm goodness and lather them with butter and honey, perhaps a new family ritual. A pretty good way to begin the day.

I guess the sourdough can start more than biscuits.