pumpkin bread

I think I would have thrived in the 1950’s. I’m at my prime in housewife mode.

On Tuesday I got out of clinic early and hustled right over to Target/Walmart/Michael’s to begin the Halloween assembly process. Usually I keep my Halloween ideas under wraps, but this is a sneak preview of my costume…

Yes, that would be a crocodile. Not a sexy crocodile, just a crocodile. This year I’m subscribing to Joy the Baker’s Halloween rules, specifically numbers 7 and 8. She’s truly an inspiration. My friend Maura is being a crocodile hunter, so I’m going to be her target. This way she can point the pop gun at me instead of strangers, and there’s less of a risk of it being forcibly removed from her by an authority figure.

So 4 hours, 16 hot glue sticks (10 burned fingers), 5 yards of felt, 2 googly eyes and 3 cut up cereal boxes later, the crocodile head was born. I was feeling so Halloween-y after my assembly of a costume that would be better suited for an 8 year old boy, that I decided to continue the fun and make pumpkin bread.

This pretty loaf is the one I brought to school the next day and passed off on the boys. There have been some implications that I’m talking the talk with the blog and not walking the walk (a.k.a. bringing them food) so this tin foil wrapped wonder made our three hour morning class slightly more bearable.

This was the first loaf:

This, my friends, is what happens when you are gluttonous and fill the bread tin almost to the top. It does not bake. Then you get impatient and dump it out of the bread tin about 47 seconds after it has come out of the oven. Not exactly slice-worthy. It still made our house smell fantastic, and if I want to eat bread by the handful in the privacy of my own home that is my right and privilege.