Ditch the Google Search
The disappearing art of sharing wisdom
Just as my partner and I were settling into our new home in San Juan, we were already leaving. A summer trip to Europe had been in the works for a year already, a time for him to reconnect with his family in Germany and attend to various work and bureaucratic affairs. It’s also a time for adventure and maybe even some time off for my workaholic better half.
As soon as the house is in order — clothes folded and hung, books organized on shelves, toiletries tucked into their new homes — it was time to reverse the process. More packing. I’d be lying if I said it was my favorite thing.
For the most part, things will stay in their place, safely awaiting our return. Someone will check our mail and water the plants. We’ll close all the windows and hope that a hurricane doesn’t pummel the island during our absence.
But one thing has been preoccupying me: What to do with the sourdough starter? It was given to me by a friend during our road trip, and I’d kept it alive in our cooler until I was able to give it a permanent home in our fridge here in San Juan, where I’ve been feeding it diligently. I even used it last night, kneading sourdough on our kitchen counter and baking two loaves in our new oven for the very first time. It’s been far too long since I’ve had bread…
