P.V.

Ms. Davidson was my 6th grade science teacher. She was a giant to me and I remember the time she ate a candle that actually turned out to be a lit potato wedge. For me, memories are a weird thing. What is vivid about my memories of that class were the experiments that we conducted relating to the physical sciences... because in elementary school, you got to conduct great experiments but didn't have to calculate molecular mass or observe the spectral diffusion of different light waves. I just got to shoot off rockets and burn things. What made me think of my science class was my latest expedition into the field of yeast. Michael and I made our first brew of mead this past winter that yielded a hearty drink. Noël frequently makes a fresh loaf of bread-- which always include a joke about the "sound of bread" from Ratatouille. Nonnie (Noël's grandmother) just recently gave us a jar of sourdough starter--which led me naturally to this article. Which naturally led to this...

Ms. Davidson was my 6th grade science teacher. She was a giant to me and I remember the time she ate a candle that actually turned out to be a lit potato wedge. For me, memories are a weird thing. What is vivid about my memories of that class were the experiments that we conducted relating to the physical sciences... because in elementary school, you got to conduct great experiments but didn't have to calculate molecular mass or observe the spectral diffusion of different light waves. I just got to shoot off rockets and burn things. What made me think of my science class was my latest expedition into the field of yeast. Michael and I made our first brew of mead this past winter that yielded a hearty drink. Noël frequently makes a fresh loaf of bread-- which always include a joke about the "sound of bread" from Ratatouille. Nonnie (Noël's grandmother) just recently gave us a jar of sourdough starter--which led me naturally to this article. Which naturally led to this...