Brea-DUH

One of the gifts we got for our wedding was this bread maker, something that Mommy was using today to create raisin bread.  It turned out well, and the device still works after seventeen years.  Daddy's friends gave this to us, and it was somewhat of a joke item as well as a practical item of course.  The joke was related to a trip we made a couple years beforehand, one where we drove up to Minnesota on a road trip.  On the way, we saw the House on the Rock in Wisconsin, plus the Mall of America, the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, the Museum of Questionable Medical Devices, an Egyptian restaurant, and of course that glorious huge majestic sphere, the Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota.

The Twine Ball would become a theme for a while for us.  The gift you see above was literally wrapped in a ginormous twine ball itself as a wedding gift.  And Daddy's groom's cake for the wedding date had a small gazebo on top, and inside that gazebo was a twine ball too.

But what is the significance of a bread maker?  While visiting the Twine Ball, the obvious thing to ask is, what else is there to do here?  It's located in the tiny town of Darwin, Minnesota.  There's a gazebo, and a twine ball inside that, all under protected glass.  And besides that, there was next door a place called "The Twine Ball Inn."

Only it wasn't really an inn that you could spend the night at.  And when we were visiting, there wasn't much of anything in there that suggested that it had anything to do with the Twine Ball (capitalized because it is that important).  It's my understanding that a museum has sprung up since then, which might be interesting to visit.

Anyway, we went inside the Twine Ball Inn, which was basically a small local restaurant that served all kinds of breakfasts, including homemade bread.

One of us made the mistake of telling the waitress that we'd like to try some of their outstanding homemade breads.  And the waitress was quick to jump on us, correcting us by saying, "Brea-DUH.  Just one bread."

Reprimanded, we did what anyone else would do in that sort of situation:  we cracked up.  It was kind of strange and kind of funny and kind of local, and exactly the sort of thing we made this road trip for.

As for the twine ball itself, it was a sight to behold.  Obviously, we wouldn't have really known about it or cared about it if it weren't for the Weird Al song, "The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota."  And we weren't expecting much from it.  It's just one of those things where we were just happy to be there.  You can't touch the twine ball itself, but you can see it through this thick plastic under a gazebo.  It's not the largest ball of twine in the world, but it is the largest built by one man.  And that's an important distinction, because if you get a whole town doing something, it won't take long to make a ball of twine.  But Francis Johnson, who's very name I shall never forget, built this twine ball all by himself.  And he died because of it too, apparently.  From what I remember, the fibers in the twine were something he breathed in consistently enough to possibly cause lung issues for him.  Still, this was his thing, his mark on life, his memorial and his legacy.  People will know this guy because of a big Twine Ball, and perhaps he did more for the town of Darwin, Minnesota than anyone before, or possibly will ever do after.  It's what sends geeks like Daddy hundreds and hundreds of miles on road trips to one tiny destination in Minnesota, versus any one of the other thousands of tiny towns scattered across the country.  There are places in Georgia that Daddy has never been to, but that Twine Ball sent us all the way up there, calling to us.  Of course, again, we did a whole lot more up there than just see a Twine Ball.  The House on the Rock in particular was a destination that changed our lives - it was the tackiest, most awful and yet most glorious destination of them all.  It is clearly an acquired taste, and speaking of that, we must get back to the bread maker.

Madison had bread from this bread maker, all these years later.  So did Mommy and Daddy.  It still works fine, and will continue to do so.  You could say, if it weren't for Francis Johnson, we wouldn't have a bread maker here, or one to talk about today.  If not for Francis Johnson, Madison wouldn't be eating homemade bread today.

Beyond the bread, today was an ordinary late summer day.  We had ambitious thoughts about venturing out and doing this or that.  But one of the battle cries of our late summer charge has been this: "We've done a whole lot this summer."  That's sort of a justification for just staying home, practicing piano a bit, cleaning up, coloring in things and drawing, playing videos games, and maybe watching a movie later on.  It wasn't a terribly active day for Madison, and with school coming up, and with so much being done earlier on, it's okay.  Just stay home, and have some bread.