It rained hard all night and for most of the day. The night rain was lovely. That rhythmic patter of big drops on the roof is as good as a waterfall spilling warm water on your shoulders. Total balm. The daytime rain -- well, that's a different story. I look out...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4fp-mvJugN5ISN89axgDdiqO_ppjUH78F_5Luq6S9IvxiuvsbpWDmiQsETWpTuYDk77tHQz7NqU6Zz76pvJ4tHwSWVgzE_wNT56x_kA3n-kCAVRnyQYhulqmWMlPhq5HJuU9ng/w542-h640/1.jpg)
... I do go to the barn to feed the chickens, and to the shed to feed the cats, and then I go right back to the farmhouse with no great desire to go out again.
(Breakfast)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIO2azmV5321bOtNR8e6pUwjppblMEWzRCG73DHp3Uowf74F1237P0DMpW65rRjnIF0XlhnR_fA8IdQdCj2TbX-0mRf3oxI-9nIRkeDpZfizXZAHY-X86tPtTpBEwF4L46hkO3ag/w467-h501/2.jpg)
Except, there's the matter of the rhubarb cake. Yesterday, I had taken a small piece over to Snowdrop. When her mom came out to do an exchange of pans and containers with me, I could see the look of disappointment in her eyes. What, no piece of cake for me?
So this morning I baked another rhubarb cake, with the every last rhubarb stalk I could find in our garden and in the afternoon, I drive it over to the young family's house.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfcHyNP1v6QZGwQYf3IFIi2w1nzJ6S05xZba4EjWKOMfyWXj2uXP1GVhv70W40JJ7V1z7lxuBk3MHD-VIxGnECvv3tHhKY8Eq_QYDqTUMXMKHpaVqFmSC_zHu0s8yjbVDzU6Vaw/w441-h743/3.jpg)
And so it is a day of baking, and it is also a day for Zooming once again with my Polish pack of friends.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFm6IkOV8mnC8a0puCaUQ3-dZ_EKdg60Chs2H0uI4cksoFjELidRiUc7AXwgGsXqGwFeuEYpMN61fouir5ESKlUyjDb9KGVwYY2lAb2ACbSlkZxclZMLiY3L85Ts7Sji3OfMyQGg/w640-h405/5.jpg)
It's not exactly a lighthearted chat. One of them now has COVID. There is also COVID among their family, their friends. Poland has infection numbers that rival our own (though Wisconsin still beats everyone!).
Still, no one wastes time feeling sorry for themselves. Coping mechanisms click in. Spirits rise to meet the social moment. We are destined to enjoy any gathering, even this weird one, on our computer screens.
Evening. Drizzle drizzle drizzle. Reheat leftovers, light a candle, feel the comfort of a warm space. Surely not a bad way to spend the final hours of a very wet day.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCATUSoKZQz6H3cFMXFaEdkvqvyfiBDhKOMXeOkSSQkKrCW2-I4hdELSsBJwZZlt7GakxmkTuMvWOCryQAt0LQZ8X9SqPOXn6WcAqLhtBb-XZlSOW2C-NmbipYlLBXzJ3298fmnw/w566-h842/6.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.