I started the bread rising from the starter I got going last night and played in the greenhouse for a bit. Not too long because highs approached 90 today so it was HOT in there. After my online French lesson, I grabbed my wallet to head to the grocery store... and noticed that my debit card had gone missing. Instantly panic set in as I sat with sweat beading on my forehead trying to retrace my steps. I called the restaurant where Camille and I had dinner Wednesday and, thank God, they had it. So, Brett and I drove to Yorba Linda to get my card and then came back home -- three and a half hours round trip. In the meantime, my sourdough had been rising and rising and rising.
When we got home, I quickly formed my loaves and headed to the barn to groom Winston before the saddle fitter arrived. The horses were all hanging out, trying to stay cool.
|Jackson was taking a nap.|
|Flash and Kalvin were hogging the shade. Winston was hanging with them.|
|Of course, as soon as they saw me they had to come over and say hi.|
|While she worked on the saddle, Winston grazed on the slope.|
|Jackson found some shade down by the water trough/pond.|
I asked her to look at my Western saddle as well and it has the same problem. I've ordered the Western equivalent of a Mattes pad (its a Thinline Western pad liner with shim pockets) but until it arrives, I will stick with the dressage saddle for trail rides.
My loaves had been rising close to three hours at this point. I ran up to the house to get them in oven and harvested some beets that were going bananas in the garden. My rhubarb is ready to be harvested too. Maybe I can fit in a pie this weekend.
Amazingly, the bread was still okay. Thank goodness sourdough is slow to rise and bread, in general, is forgiving. We had bread, cheese, and a salad of beets, oranges and goat cheese for dinner. Get a load of these beet greens:
And then -- the wierdest, worst part of the day. I got a call from our trainer, Gayle. We were scheduled to go out there for a lesson next Wednesday and she called to tell me that the barn owner doesn't want us to trailer in anymore. I was speechless. We pay the haul-in fee ($40) and Brett rakes up every last piece of manure and loose hay before we leave. We observe all the rules. We never complain. I was shocked. I have never been uninvited to a barn before. Poor Gayle was embarrassed and unhappy about delivering the news. She still wants to work with us and we are going to try having her come up here once a month. It's a long way for her to drive so it will be time and money for her (and I told her I would pay her whatever she thinks that is worth). I'm just .... I can't even think of the words to express my surprise, shock, disbelief and hurt.