I believe I am completely recovered from the holidays – amazing how we look forward to the festive time with family until Day Two of the festivities and then we look forward to getting back to “normal” life – even if that normal life makes us crazy.
Nothing makes one crazy like family.
My family is crazy, and thus craziness is relative.
The Winter Solstice trees have been disposed of (converted to firewood) and most of the lights have been put away (Bubo likes to keep some around her nest). Mordecai and Charles are on a pilgrimage to Antigua and my house is finally my own.
As we all know, my own means just yours truly, a great horned owl, a pygmy yeti, a passel of dragons, various specimens, mobile gargoyles, some Night Story Birds, a handful of Slate Wing Fighting Birds, and whatever comes in through the subterranean canal.
Last night it was a very tiny woman, singing sea shanties and selling cookbooks printed on handmade paper. She had hair the color of yellow split peas and smelled of ham.
Interestingly enough, the first recipe in the cookbook I purchased was a Swedish ham and split pea stew. (With Silas gone and his amazing collection of recipes, one must come up with new culinary options.)
I already attempted the candied ginger. The parlor smells of singed hair and rancid citrus, so perhaps desserts are not my forte.
The stew is in the slow cooker and all I need is some delicious fresh bread.
Yes, this is the time I wish Great Aunt Una lived closer – she bakes a mean bread.
She also makes bread turn mean around 2 am, so anything un-eaten on the counter might bite you come morning. That is the time I do not miss Great Aunt Una.