snow fondant
Hard ice over the top of the snow
Not too cold, but cold enough, at least, to stop the melting.
Hoping, tonight, for more snow.
Spaetzle:
homemade, but a little rushed.
Good, but it could be better.
It deserves better from me.
there’s always next year
At the end of my rope – 2007, and at the edge of the unknown – 2008. I’m leaving a lot of loose ends behind this year and next year feels more unknown than usual.
I eat well today:
Oatmeal for breakfast, cooked in a pot, with a little brown sugar and cinnamon.
Then dinner of spinach salad with strawberries and blueberries, a French leek pie, and a delicate sauvignon blanc – and even some baclava for my sweet tooth.
But it’s not enough. I blow it in the evening with potato chips and dip.
There’s always next year.
almost back to normal
After Christmas cleaning up, shoveling snow and thinking about, but not making resolutions – not just yet. I’m not quite rested, so I eat leftovers of a great meal, and more pie.
It’s warm – 30 degrees – under a gentle sky. Brief sun gleams on fresh snow, but it soon eases behind thin clouds into soft, comfortable pastels.
peace, literally
After a late night last night and warmth in a new robe and pajamas, I watch slow snow with a big slice of fresh-baked pumpkin pie generously loaded with whipped cream. The smell of baking still hangs in the air.
Merry Christmas.
all
A faceful of steam off a baked potato,
a pat of butter,
a little sour cream,
salt and pepper,
is all.
At sunset red clouds, glowing coals stretch over us. I bend my head back to take it all in, but they are warm only on the surface. Underneath we drive on cold, snow-white china smudged with road grit.
