I didn’t bake this bread. But I did help test it.
A comparison could be made to my recent Covid-19 booster, though testing the bread was far more enjoyable than getting vaccinated. And there’s the rub.
On one hand, I experienced the immediate, rich, endorphins-launching joy of consuming freshly-baked bread. For my pandemic-exhausted soul, this was bliss, though maybe at the expense of my youthful waistline (ha!).
On the other hand, I deeply abhor needles and can’t say that I particularly enjoyed any of the three recent experiences I’ve had with them. Though looking at it from the other end, those vaccinations are far better for my long-term health and well-being than the bread.
But look at me; this was supposed to be a post about what Driftwood has (figuratively) baking in the oven.
Though hardly dormant, Driftwood hasn’t enjoyed any in-person, events in two years. But despite the recent return of deep uncertainty wrought by Omicron, we’re on the cusp of just that – the return of our annual Bard’s Bus Tour in the summer of 2022.
We’re choosing to move forward in hope of gathering with you all again in 2022. We’re building plans, re-vivifying our creative spirits, and engaging in conversations about when and how Driftwood Theatre will return to safely sharing space with people and communities across Ontario.
The feeling which accompanies all that work is more akin to the bread than the needles.
So, stay tuned, because very soon we’ll have more news to share (and maybe even more freshly-baked goods).
P.S. The bread is one of many baking and cooking tests that my wife, Tabitha Keast, and I are embarking upon this month. Because that’s what you do when you buy a B&B in a small town in the middle of a pandemic. More updates about the Benjamin Gillespie House anon.