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The dough rose again in the fridge overnight. I punched it down and shaped pieces of the dough into baseball-sized blobs. I placed two 'baseballs' in each greased loaf pan. Now I have six loaf pans of dough rising in the cold oven.
I have weensy bits of dough clinging to my hands. If I ever visited a palm reader or fortune-teller she would know I'm a bread baker.
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