A Winter's Day in February

Just as we all were lamenting the absence of winter, the north wind sneaks up on us here in mid-February and blows a fierce breeze into our hearths and homes. It is just dinner time (actually, not even, because our bread is still rising), and the temperature outside is 19º F. And a low of 4º is forecast tonight. Yikes. But...where is the white stuff? That's what I am missing.

Here is a hanger-on:

I was temporarily felled by a cold yesterday. But I adhere to the concept of going to bed when one is sick, and thus I did, and you know what? I felt much better today. I felt much better, that is, until 4:00 in the afternoon, and then I had to stretch out on the sofa for another lay-about to regroup my energy. It worked. My mother told me years ago, that children's fevers spike at 4:00 pm. Call it what you want, but I don't think it's an Old Wife's Tale. I think it's a matter of listening to nature's way. That's another thing my mother taught me - to listen to nature's way. And so I do, and so I do indeed feel better. This, with an aspirin yesterday and another this afternoon. Lots of tissues, and no cold meds inbetween.

My Mom raised a non-medicinal passel of brats. Thanks, Mom! We're a tough lot.

Grad student Gillian is home for the weekend.

That is always nice, although it's sort of quiet this weekend because she is finishing up her last semester of her Master's and seems to be reading and writing and drinking tea most of her waking hours. Anyway, as my Guinness-molasses bread is rising, so is her hunger, and so she has silently volunteered to go in and get the dinner party started: salmon, with a zucchini-cauliflower gratin. And whatever her culinary heart desires: the kitchen is her theater tonight. And I am thankful.

And this is the start of our c-c-c-cold weekend!