Bread & My Thermometer

Turns out there are two bakeries in town. This morning, Valentina
asked me to go to one of them to pick up our bread. She said tell
them the number “19” and her last name. Unsure of exactly how this
system would work, and having never done it before, I followed her
instructions and was told to wait for 10-15 minutes. As it was cold
outside and my apartment is just far enough away to go home and turn
around in 15 minutes, I decided to do what any person who doesn’t
speak the local language should do when he finds himself in a new
place and surrounded by generally unhelpful strangers – ask for a
tour of the place.

I must say, I was quite impressed with the place. The bakery has
been around for a while, but has only been in the hands of its
current owners, a couple named Vacilica and Anton, for 3 years. I
saw the gigantic machine they use to grind their own flower, a huge
mixing bowl where they make the dough, and an 8-foot tall rotating oven.

In another part of the warehouse where they work contains what I
think is another business they own – making comforters.

Of course, I forgot my camera so I don’t have any pictures, but keep
your eyes peeled because I’m definitely going back – especially since
Anton gave me a free loaf of hot, fresh bread. Wow, was it good.

A new key-chain thermometer that I’ve attached to my jacket’s zipper
allows me to know just how cold it is in my village. I use the
instrument not so much to determine the outside temperature, which I
know to be cold, but to figure out the temperature indoors where one
would hope it would be warm (or at least not cold).

My room, where I have the PC-issued electric heater running full
blast 24-hours a day hovers in the upper 50s and sometimes reaches
the mid-60s when I run my distiller at the same time. The “dining
room” where I ate my breakfast this morning was about 50 degrees and
the rooms in my office vary greatly, but nothing I’ve found prompts
me to remove my jacket or longjohns.

Actually, the cold is one of the best motivators to exercise. If I
run around I warm up. [Though I suppose the same could be said for
staying in bed all day – it’s quite comfy under my covers.]