Coddiwomple World

Author: Melissa Allor

  • Baking Bread, a poem

    Baking Bread, a poem

    I made bread today. 
    -gluten-free, just as you need it to be. 
    It was picture perfect.
    It was heavy as a brick.
    We dipped it in oil and garlic.

    Just beside our tomato and mozzarella.
    -like so, just as we wanted it to taste.
    It was picture perfect.
    It was heavy as a brick.
    We ate half the tiny loaf.

    It took me 5 hours to make it.
    -resting time, that’s what they called it.
    It was covered and sticky.
    It was heavy as a brick.
    We enjoyed, the dense flavor.

    I made bread today.


    Like the poem, I spent hours making gluten free bread from scratch. There was a lot of kneading and waiting, kneading and waiting, and letting the dough rest. I think it was tasty, but it was certainly dense, but I wonder if that is just the nature of gluten-free bread. I followed the recipe on the bag of King Arthur’s gluten free bread flour.

    Anyone else have any practice making gluten free bread that is a little, lighter or airy? Do you know what I might be doing wrong?

  • Nothing is harder to let go of than Grief

    Nothing is harder to let go of than Grief

    Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.

    When I lost my sister in 2010 to a horrific car accident, I never thought I’d enjoy life again. My grief spanned years, and still has its moments in my day to day life. In my mind, there is nothing harder to let go of than your grief.

    Remembering that there is a world that still needs to be lived, people to care for, others to think of, when all you want to do is curl up and rot until it is your time to die. It is not only difficult, but necessary.

    My mom always quoted the saying, “Life goes on, though we know not why,” and I feel that deep in my soul. It broke me to know that it was okay to let go of my pain, and start living again. For so many years it didn’t seem possible, but here I am, still alive, still healthy, no rhyme or reason to it.

    I have to hope that there is a time that I will see my sister again. That my grief is only temporary, and we will be reunited to share all the missed moments in our lives. We were supposed to grow old together and sit in our rockers, on the front porch, giggling like school girls over our husbands.

    Unfortunately life took a turn, that neither of us expected and that dream died with it, but what I will do is learn to live again. Let go of my grief, live this life for both of us, so that one day in the future I will have so many stories to share with my sister.

    RIP Rebecca Hunt, gone far too soon. Your family loves and misses you.

  • Dirt under my Fingernails —a poem reflecting on spring activities

    Dirt under my Fingernails —a poem reflecting on spring activities

    time to watch the dandelions grow
    with the scent of freshly baked bread, 
                                             if you know you know

    almost time to rake the leaves
    scent of soil permeates my nose, 
                                            while the shrinking snowman grieves

    as the dirt under my fingernails
    leaves depressions in the soil,  
                                           tiny seeds will grow or fail

    joyous season is almost here
    I will ride my scooter through the trail, 
                                           the sun will finally reappear
    Photo by Helena Jankoviu010dovu00e1 Kovu00e1u010dovu00e1 on Pexels.com

    I wrote this poem, thinking of my own activities of late. Planning this years garden, planting seeds to start it, and of course my journey with baking gluten-free bread from scratch.

    I have a new scooter arriving next week, that I can’t wait to get outdoors on and ride around our trails on. Ultimately I have spring fever just flowing through me, energizing me for the future.

    What spring activities are you looking forward to the most?