When I was younger I made a lot of homemade bread. I loved the kneading of the dough. It always seemed to ease the troubles of the day. These days it would be difficult to do the necessary kneading of bread because of my arthritis, but I find I still enjoy the quiet time alone in my kitchen. So I limit myself to quick breads.
The anticipation of cutting that first perfect piece is a wonderful part of the ritual,
and then there is the reward of sitting down in your chair with your freshly baked bread and a cup of tea, remembering other days of baking, and knowing that it was time well spent.