The bakery is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. I have to take my sour starters home to feed them and I also take flour and yeast with me to mix the poolish. Poolish is a 50-50 flour/water starter that I use for my French dough. Just a pinch of yeast goes in the tub and 18 hours later, the mixture is bubbly and happy.
This isn't the first time I've had to babysit starters. In school, I had to take the poolish home over one weekend. It was in a five gallon bucket. I followed all the instructions as far as water temperature and amount and time to mix, then I put the bucket in front of my door so I couldn't get out of the apartment without moving it. This was my fail-safe method to remember not to leave the house without it. When I woke the next morning, the bucket of poolish had bubbled over. The blob had over taken my living room. I scooped it up and cleaned it the best I could just to get out the door. Some fail-safe! The chef giving the instructions didn't plan on an apartment with no air conditioning in 90 degree weather. The yeast got a little too friendly with the flour and the rest is permanently ingrained in someone's carpet in Poughkeepsie.
Tuesday morning I was mixing the poolish for Wednesday and Josie was looking on in delight. I know she can't wait to get her hands in the gooey mess. I can't wait until she's old enough to mix it for me. Both of my hands were covered in muck and my glasses started to slip off my face. I was certain Josie was going to snatch them. She trys all the time only this time I couldn't stop her without making a total mess of my face and her hands. She reached over to take them but instead of grabbing them and running for the door, as she does with everything else she isn't supposed to have, she pushed them back up onto my nose. It was definitely a heart melting moment. Then she proceeded to scream for twenty minutes because I wouldn't let her get her hands dirty but at least I had my moment.