My father was a baker for a long time and I've spent the summers of my early teens with him at the bakery. It was hard work for him, working the full night, doing the bread distribution in the morning and keeping regular schedule meals during the day with the family.
It was hard times, but also good memories that I keep close to my heart. Maybe now that he has passed away and I'm soon to be come a father, I needed to prove to myself I still remember his teachings. So last night, call it nostalgia, couvade syndrome, or just 'saudade', I just felt the urge to make bread. This was the happy result. I can still improve it and some of the things were a bit hard to recall, but the bread was ok and I was happy to have a full restful night sleep with a full stomach.