Been baking a lot of bread lately. I do this when there’s snow on the ground or in the forecast or within the realm of seasonal possibility.
In other words, it’s how I pass the winter. Summer, autumn and spring I buy bread, but in the winter I’m a bread-bakin’ fool. As opposed to the regular kind of fool (which I also am; see above re: summer, autumn and spring).
I guess it’s my version of the panic response that sends people to the store for French toast ingredients — milk, eggs, bread — every time the weather loonies on TV bring up the possibility of more than a half-inch of winter precipitation. I run to the store too, except I go for flour and yeast.