Wednesday, December 14, 2022

Wednesday

In the middle of the night I heard a splintering crash. A storm was raging -- all wind and lots of rain -- and I looked up to see if the roof had caved in. Amazing how calm you can be when you wake up to a storm. Of course, no branches were protruding from the ceiling and importantly, all was warm and dry. Still, I shouted down to Ed (who hadn't come up yet) -- did you hear that? Silence. Can't be bad then, I thought. And went back to sleep.

In the morning, one glance outside disclosed the culprit -- a fallen maple limb that came crashing down  out front. No damage, just a stark reminder that trees lose branches and we do have a lot of trees here, at the farmette.

(The cats are taking it all in...)



It is (from my perspective) unfortunate that all that wetness was in the form of rain rather than snow. Drive 100 miles north of us and you'll encounter a deep snow cover. We are stuck with a very muddy driveway and totally unhappy cheepers. And, of course, a brown and pungent landscape.




Since Ed was sleeping in this morning I had no one to tell me we should pass on breakfast pastries and stick with our oats, so I drove out to Madison Sourdough and this made me so devilishly happy...

(all that beautiful bread!)



... that I swear it was worth every cinnamon laden, buttery bite (we still tend to favor the Viennoiseries that have a touch of spiced sugar in the swirl).




When Ed did come down (just as I was steaming up the milk for my cappuccino), he reminded me that we still had plenty of Rugelach cookies to munch on. This is the problem with living in a household of two. Your appetite for baked goods is always going to outrun your stomach capacity. If I thought some twenty years ago that baking at L'Etoile was going to cure me of my love for croissants and other breakfast breads, well, I was wrong.

In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop once again. We have a leisurely few hours just soaking in the delights of a December afternoon.




I feel a little like she is the last soldier standing, as slowly her family has fallen down with a virus that's ravaging the community (not Covid) and she remains okay. I suppose this is like any other pre pandemic holiday season where the youngest kids are sure to be fighting one bug or another and you only hope that by Christmas the worst will be behind you.




Late evening. I hear the pounding rain once again. Maybe miraculously it will change into snow by morning. You never know!


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.