The easy way out isn’t always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat Doug, my husband of one month, to a special meal. I glanced through my cook book and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time. I started on it as soon as Doug left for work. As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Doug loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was a sticky dough covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn’t have to face Doug laughing at my work. I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Doug got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he wa