Back in the spring, a few weeks before the coronavirus struck, I was invited to consider a part-time baking position at a new, soon-to-be-open bakery. I interviewed, said yes, and then everything went on hold for a few months while they finished renovations on the building, the old, triangular Big L Tire garage.

It’s a pretty cool place. Magpie Diner — the main attraction — is on the first floor, along with the inhouse bakery and a coffee roaster business, and then the second floor (and part of the first) is coworking space. (Remember The Hub? Now it’s The Perch.) Basically, the entire building is a funky one-stop dream spot for writing and other office-y work: fabulous coffee, fresh bread, and lots of quiet space to create.

Last Monday was my first day of work.

The two full-time bakers had already been working round the clock for several months, first in a rented space and then in the actual bakery, so they had a good rhythm going.

The other part-time baker and I have been taking turns shadowing them, learning to program the ovens, laminate pastry, pound butter, monitor the proofing box, grind grain, shape croissants, roll the cinnamon swirl loaves, and so on.

Next week, we’ll switch roles: the part-time bakers take charge and the full-time bakers shadow us. Right now I’m working three shifts a week, but once things settle down, I’ll cut back to one or two per week — just enough to feed my extrovert soul but not enough (hopefully) to detract from my writing.

One of my favorite things about the bakery is the windows. There are huge glass windows at the front that let me keep tabs on the outside world, and there’s a large window between the bakery and the diner which lets us feel part of the diner hubbub and allows customers see how their bread gets made.

The bakery specializes in sourdough, several kinds of daily bread (milk, multigrain, seed and nut), croissants, and pies, most of which goes directly to the diner. But until the diner opens, we’ve been selling our test bakes out the front door. (When we briefly opened Tuesday morning, a line of customers stretched down the sidewalk for about forty-five minutes, at which point we sold out!)

Magpie Diner officially opens Tuesday, July 28. Stop by for a coffee and fresh croissant (my children like the vanilla braids; I’m partial to the ham and cheese) and say hi!

This same time, years previous: happenings, the best one yet, the quotidian (7.24.17), all practicality, on his own, curry potato salad, we’re back!, pumpkin seed pesto, how to beat the heat.

When you catch the Krispy Kreme guy tossing out a truckload of donuts and convince him to share.

This same time, years previous: Italian meringue buttercream, sweet sixteen, lemony cream cheese frosting, in the kitchen, the quotidian (7.20.15), this new season, roasted beet salad with cumin and mint, whole wheat zucchini bread.

When our friends Leryann and William got engaged back at Christmas, they’d planned to have a beach wedding in Puerto Rico. But then covid happened, and they had to pivot: this time to a stateside wedding. This past Sunday morning, they married … in our backyard!

The wedding was a delightful mix of homemade and traditional, formal and relaxed.

Leryann’s parents, Chiro and Lery, were able to come from Puerto Rico, and a few, local friends rounded out the small gathering.

Ellie was the flower pony. My older son’s friend took photos. My older son filmed the wedding, which was live-streamed to all their friends and family in Puerto Rico: this took a bit of technology gymnastics, especially when it came time for the toasts and blessings and we had to jump back and forth between listening and speaking, but it all worked out. My niece made the waffles for the brunch, and my younger daughter’s friend was in charge of serving the food. And I officiated.

Back in the spring they were remaking their wedding plans — and struggling with the strain of dashed dreams and the stress of planning a wedding far from home in the midst of a pandemic — we’d offered our place for the wedding and then I added, “And I could probably marry you, if you want.” A friend of mine had gotten a one-time license to officiate a wedding awhile back, so why not me? They’d jumped at the idea.

A quick online search revealed that in order to be a one-time civil celebrant all I needed to do was fill out a basic form (name, address, intended date of wedding), provide a copy of my driver’s license, and write a check for 61 dollars. There was a trip to the courthouse to drop off the paperwork, and then a second trip to pick up the official documents and take the oath, and that was it.

I had no idea marrying someone was so easy! And so much fun!!

William and Leryann planned and organized the whole wedding themselves, from choosing the menu for the waffle bar brunch and buying all the ingredients, to bringing the blankets for people to sit on, to making all the signs and decorations, to writing the wedding ceremony.

Leryann was able to include the moments that were so important to her: her father gave her away, they had their first dance on the clubhouse porch, the wedding godparents were able to give the first toast over Zoom, and her mother sang a song.

And there were other moments, unplanned ones, that made the wedding feel all the more relaxed and fun-loving. My younger son had to run inside to fetch the forgotten jars of sand mid-ceremony. I dismissed Ellie as planned (we were worried she’d cause a distraction by rearing or pooping) and then immediately changed my mind because she was being so good. People waited patiently while we worked out the technology glitches, reminded me when I forgot to pause so the servers could hand out the flutes pre-toast, ran over to silence the dogs when they barked, and laughed when the flower “girl” nibbled the back of my dress.

A backyard wedding might not have been their original plan, but Leryann and William handled the challenges with tenacity and grace, turning it into the sweetest, most joyful little wedding you ever did see.

Congratulations, you two. We love you!!!

All photos, except the one of people milling about and the last, were taken by Theo Yoder. 

This same time, years previous: three shining dragon eggs, Sunday, putting up walls, four weeks down, three to go, in which a pit bull bites my butt, zucchini fritters, the quotidian (7.14.14), Saturday nights.