It pours. The temperature continues to drop. The chicken yard sucks shoes off your feet, with the extreme wetness. Groceries in. Not much, if any, bread left on the store shelves. A chocolate sour cream cake to bake.
I feel easy. My mind is calm. When oldest daughter comes home, my chickens who brood here will be safe. Dinner tonight will be a simple meal. Tomorrow we'll feast, just in case we're iced in, with barbecue, potato salad, and baked beans. Food that sticks around.
Having nowhere to go, food in the house, and books to read makes my heart feel restful. Reading Woolf's 'To the Lighthouse' now. Oh my is all I'll say. Delicious.
