In the wee hours of Saturday morning Mama Nature brought four inches of fluffy Lake Effect to my deck and left it there as a nice surprise. Thoughtful of her. The Duo were delighted, and nothing would do but that we get out and about in it before it was spoiled. That explains why I was shuffling along the road in my pajamas and boots and down coat and heavy mittens at 4:30 a.m. We all enjoyed it. No wind, no motors, no birdcalls. Restful.
Afterward we tucked ourselves inside and tended to homely duties. I wrote, they slept, waking only to bark at passing squirrels and golden retrievers. I made a big pot of chicken soup and accidentally dropped the entire contents of a bag of frozen peas into it. Well, I thought, maybe I should just add more noodles and make it into a sort of casserole.
It smelled really good, better than it tastes, which is mostly like peas. I like peas, but maybe not so many. Sigh. It turns out that the Cowboy and Miss Sadie love peas, particularly with noodles and chicken, so we’ll use up the casserole in short order and go on to the next culinary adventure.
After all that excitement we went out again. It was still peaceful, and there was still a lot of fluffy Lake Effect in the driveway. I have no idea where Dale Reedy has gotten to. Maybe it didn’t snow up on the Flat Road and he doesn’t know that plowing awaits him. Mama Nature and her little jokes.
Right after I took this picture I swept all the snow off the steps like a responsible grownup. (Just wanted Rob the Firefighter to know that. I wish to make a good impression on him, although at this late date that’s possibly a lost cause. Especially since I’ve already admitted to the disaster with the peas.) I am not a responsible grownup, though. Witness this.
That is a little custard cup full of schmaltz. Rendered chicken fat. Sort of rendered. It’s the fat that congealed at the top of the chicken broth during the process of, er, soup-making. I reserved it for a special occasion, when I am feeling like throwing caution and heart health to the winds and frying some chicken livers. The way things are going that might happen any day now. At the moment I have another secret weapon from the Gloom Resistance Underground.
That is creamed star thistle honey with lemons blended in. It is exactly what it says on the label: Sunshine in a jar. I found it at the Village Market, where they were giving out little samples on crackers. I am a fool for samples on crackers. A tiny dab of the Lemon Honey Crême can brighten up an entire afternoon, which is a good thing because it cost a fortune and I cannot imagine how I came to buy it. Must have been the circumflex. Or more likely just winter. I do things like that in winter. At least it’s a locally concocted indulgence, from Sleeping Bear Farms over in Benzie County. If you’re going to throw your money away, don’t throw it very far.
The sun’s shining out there now. Maybe the Lake Effect in the driveway will disappear without the assistance of Dale’s teal truck. Stranger things have happened and will again.