Mistakes

It might be more satisfying to successfully recover from a mistake than to do it right in the first place.
I made a batch of buns for a gift this afternoon. I used my usual recipe, one that I make all the time so I make it with some confidence. I mixed the ingredients in my mixer, put it in the oven under a tea towel to rise, set the timer for an hour and a quarter and went about my other business.
I lifted the tea towel and to my surprise the dough hadn't changed shape nor size.
"What? My yeast is still good." as I leaned in for a sniff. Then I realized that I hadn't put any yeast in. My heart sunk. Fortunately I still had time.
Instead of scrapping the dough and starting fresh, I decided to put the dough back in the mixer and put the yeast in. I mixed it for a little while and it didn't seem to be mixing well so I threw in a tablespoon each of flour and water. It doesn't seem like much and really I have no idea what I was doing so I didn't even know if it would work.
Anyhow, I let it rise for an hour and a quarter. The dough had risen, doubled even but it looked oddly speckled. I wondered if that was granules of yeast that hadn't quite dissolved. I deflated the dough, shaped my buns and left them for the second rise. Well, third.
I baked them and even though they were speckly, they looked good. I cut one open and the texture inside is a little off-the size of the holes are uneven and the texture is a little chewy.
One bite reminded me that I had forgotten the salt. But they are good. I hope the recipient likes them.

I've made these buns enough times that making them no longer gives me a feeling of accomplishment. But making a major mistake and successfully fixing it does. Maybe there is a life lesson in there.