I smell like challah
I made time in my shabbat preparation to make challah again. It has only been two weeks without making it myself, but I have to say I missed it. As I type, my braided challah dough is in the final rising stage. The last hour before I can bake it. Right after it goes in the oven, I’ll also light my shabbat candles. Granted, I’m still using my catholic alter candles–my judaica hasn’t arrived yet.
So my hands smell like dough and I love it. It is in making challah, that I slow down and observe shabbat. I work on the sabbath, so can’t spend the day with family and the torah, but I can stop for a few hours on Thursday or Friday and make challah from scratch. I realize few women in reform temples bake their own challah, but it is where I find shabbat.