Another snow day.
Even the flakes seem confused. They blow sideways and in both directions at once. Some snowflakes rush my office window as if seeking the comfort of indoors. I turn my space heater on.
Raisins, apricots, and candied lemon peel are soaking in a bath of brandy and vanilla. I am baking a Christmas cake. It should take all day. When your office and kitchen share a wall, time is marked in new ways: articles read between proves.
Sometimes it feels easier to look back rather than forward. Other nights I dream 100 years into the future. We will have whales. Bicycles. And gondolas.
Some mornings I scan recipes and get stuck on the ones I will cook on hot summer days. When I have fresh fruit and greens straight from the farm rather than my freezer. I bookmark the pages and return to old comfort foods. With brown sugar and cloves. Cheese and pasta. And bread. Always more bread.
And bread takes time. Lately, I have plenty of that.