The intersection of work and life

I've mentioned before that in real (non-mommying, non-baking) life I teach junior high English. We have just begun a poetry unit and are working on narrative poems this week. Tomorrow the assignment is to write a rough draft poem about an event related to a subject that is close to your heart. I wrote a quick example to share with my class . . . and then I decided I should share it with you! (Please don't judge my lack of poetic talent too harshly . . . these are just rough drafts after all!)

Introduction to hearth baking, by Ms. B
Hisssss
The steam rises
“Quick, put the bread in!” my hubby demands.

“I am! Don’t rush me!” I shout back.
Quickly, I slide the loaf of bread
into the hot hot hot oven.

The steam rises
“Quick, close the door!” I yell.

I run to read the open book on the counter.

“Quick, open the door!” I yell at my hubby.
He opens the door, flips a towel over the delicate
glass of the oven door.

I pour water into the waiting pan.
The steam rises.

“Owwwwwwwwww!” my hubby’s wail pierces the kitchen.
I jerk in surprise, the cup sloshes.
“Owwwwwwwwww!” I yell in return.
Two casualties . . . so far.

“Quick, close the oven door!”
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7
We count to 30.

“Quick, open the door!”
I spritz the oven walls
the steam rises
like smoke on a campfire
only without the marshmellows.

We count to 30.
“Quick, open the door!”
I spritz the walls.
The steam rises.

All of this
to ensure the most perfect
golden
crusty
loaf of bread.