The sun is dancing off the icicles making a fairy-tale light, but the light and the allure are deceiving.
The ubiquitous turkeys who aren't graceful enough to fly to a tree for left-over fruit and seeds are left scavenging the gravel in the drive. (And they seem none to happy about it. Then again, turkeys never seem to be happy.)
And there is another storm moving in tonight - this one promising to bring more snow...and ice.
Yup, that's exactly what I'm thinking.
Storms, like pregnancy, bring out a nesting instinct in me...which, inevitably, leads to comfort food.
Then I made some bordelaise sauce and the smell of it simmering all day was like a blanket wrapped around me.
The wait was so worth it.
And I baked some bread...
...and cheesecake.
If the storms keep coming, I will need a new wardrobe.
Nesting, at least for me, also involves some sort of handwork. Since my hooking mojo is still on its walkabout, I took solace in my needle and thread.
I think I am pleased with both the linen and floss choices on this piece.
Perhaps the fog is beginning to lift?
And since no proper hibernation is complete without a book, of course, I've been reading.
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The tale begins with a little girl who is brought into an ancient inn on the river Thames on a dark midsummer's night, most surely dead.
But, by magic or miracle, she lives.
Three families stand at the ready to claim her as their own but, she being mute and amnesic, cannot explain what happened or to whom she belongs.
The book is a mix of fiction and fairy-tale - of just the right kind in "my book."
I enjoyed it more than I initially thought I would, and its messages, like many rivers, run deeper than one first believes.
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Lulls are a good thing....
