Edmund had a bread machine when we got married back in the day, and I used it exactly once. Its capabilities were no match for my two hands and large mixing bowl, and it irked me that its recipes called for fancy additives such as malt syrup and extra gluten. Also, the loaves it produced were not a convenient shape for sandwiches. What's more, I had a wide range of bread recipes that worked very well when made the 19th-century way, but could not be adapted to the machine. So the machine left the building.

We made our own bread for more than 20 years, with exceptions only for styles -- such as sourdough pumpernickel -- that other people made better than we could.

I stopped baking when Edmund died, having only myself to feed. The other day I finally gave away the baguette pans to a neighbour who bakes several times a week. God alone knows what he does with it all.