Every night at bedtime, instead of trotting upstairs to bed, the two younger children meet at the kitchen door. They call Alice, and then, flashlight in hand, the three of them head out in the dark to their sleeping quarters: the clubhouse.

They’ve been sleeping out there for weeks now. In the beginning, my younger daughter had to do a bunch of bribing—sharing of birthday candy, promising to help with chores, and sometimes even making direct cash payments (not allowed)—to get her brother to accompany her. (The girl can hardly stand to turn off her bedroom light at night yet she’s fine sleeping outside in the pitch dark, go figure.) Even when the temps dipped into the low 30s and we’d all be toasting ourselves by the blazing fire, the younger kids would happily go running out to the cold, dark clubhouse, leaving my my husband and me shaking our heads in disbelief.

With the younger kids outside, the house feels more spacious. The rest of us can rattle about, playing music or visiting, without having to worry about inciting the younger ones’ jealousy. And in the mornings, the younger ones linger in their beds, undisturbed by our alarm clocks, creaking doors, and clattering breakfast dishes.

One particularly balmy, clear night, the two of them slept under the stars.

They spread a tarp on the ground and then the queen-sized foam mattress pad that we got second-hand from some friends who were moving (and that gets hauled everywhere), and then a pile of blankets and pillows. They even made a headboard from a piece of wood and set up lamps.

They wanted to keep the bedding out all day, but I said no way. I didn’t want the animals dragging it hither and yon. (The clubhouse floor is piled with blankets, but at least during the day the door stays shut against the pets.)

Now that my husband installed electricity and hung a little lantern by the door—so charming!—the after-dark clubhouse is looking ever cozier. For a little while after the kids go out, lamplight spills from the windows and we can hear their (muted, glory be!) bickering and chattering.

And then my husband goes out to tuck them in and turn off the lights, and we don’t see them again until morning.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (4.18.16), joining the club, loose ends, picking us up, ground pork and white bean chili, banana cake, baked spaghetti.

This same time, years previous: right now, wrangling sheep, cheesy popcorn, crispy almonds, take two: Omri, nutmeg coffee cake, deviled eggs, cardamom orange buns, mint wedding cake, asparagus walnut salad.

When my younger son gets an idea in his head, he does not let go of it until it becomes a reality. Watching The Great British Baking Show (there’s a season three!!!), he got it in his noggin that he wanted to bake. “I’ll make crackers,” he said. “I’ll just mix up some flour, water, and salt and then roll out the dough.”

“That’s not how you make crackers,” I said. “You’ll need a recipe.”

“But I don’t want to follow a recipe. I want to make it my way.”

Which was exactly what I was afraid of: a big mess with nothing to show for it. I kept putting him off but of course he only pushed harder. Sick of the fussing, my husband muttered, “Come on, Jen. Just let him make something, why don’t you.”

“Fine,” I told my son. “You can make bread. Papa says he will teach you.”

My husband glared at me, but his mouth stayed shut.

They made the bread on a Saturday morning. Even with my husband in the kitchen, the boy kept coming to me with his questions. Ask Papa, I said over and over, each time getting a little thrill from deflecting the questions. Teaching a kid to bake bread is amazingly relaxing when I’m not the one teaching!

The boy handled the dough with an assuredness that I hadn’t anticipated, the mess was minimal, and the bread delicious. So a couple days later, I told him to make another batch. He was thrilled, and once again, the bread was a raging success.

Beginner’s Bread
(Otherwise known as Cuban Bread)
Adapted from Bernard Clayton’s New Complete Book of Breads.

The shaped loaves go straight into a cold oven and rise as the oven warms, which means that, with no hot oven to fuss with, this bread is a great one for young beginners. Plus, it’s a crowd pleaser—the rave reviews are sure to make any novice feel like an old pro.

5-6 cups bread flour
2 tablespoons yeast
1 tablespoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar
2 cups hot tap water
sesame or poppy seeds for garnish, optional

In a large bowl, mix four cups of the flour with the yeast, salt, sugar, and hot water. Gradually add more flour, as much as you need to make a soft dough. Knead the dough for 5-10 minutes.

Flour the dirty bowl, place the dough in it, and cover the dough with a cloth. Let it rise until double. 

Divide the dough in half and shape each piece into a round. Place the rounds, smooth sides up, on a parchment-lined baking sheet. If using seeds, spritz the dough with water and sprinkle the seeds on top. Slash the top of each loaf.

Place a pan of hot water on the bottom rack of a cold oven. Place the pan of bread on the rack above. Turn the oven to 400 degrees and set the time for about 30 minutes. When the timer goes off, rotate the bread (if the loaves are getting too dark, cover them with foil) and continue baking for another 10-20 minutes.

This same time, years previous: scatteredness, the quotidian (4.11.16), oh please, millet muffins, oatmeal raisin cookies, the greening, answers, the quotidian (4.6.13), yellow cake.