Cabin Fever

Sure is pretty, isn't it? The problem is that I'm stuck and have been stuck for a couple weeks now. While the snow and ice have thawed for most everyone at this point, I live in a place where the sun never shines (in the pines, in the pines...), and so by the time the road crew gets here to plow and do good, they're either tired or don't care or both. Shame on them.

This is something I really hadn't bargained for when I moved out here. This past summer was a nightmarish sort of sauna experience. So hot you could hardly breathe and so humid you couldn't sweat. Little did I know that the winter would be equally as difficult but in the opposite direction.
Another problem is that I'm terribly lonely right now. My love is in Las Vegas with his father at a trade show for manly things (John's dad designs knives and has a booth at the show), and here I am holding down the fort, doing domestic things like baking bread that I don't need (I think I have four spare loaves in the freezer already, and I'm in the process of making another one).

Yesterday, I worked on a feature article for the Joy of Cooking--Saint Patrick's Day. The thing about these articles is that we have to send them out six to eight weeks early, which is supposedly how far out newspapers plan their articles. I spent the morning in the test kitchen making Shepherd's Pie and Irish Soda Bread. The soda bread recipe needs a little tweaking, but for all its faults I swear I could eat the whole loaf at once.
I also have a gnocchi recipe I want to share with you soon. It's time-consuming any way you look at it (and you can look at it several different ways), but the reward is great. This is true especially if you're just cooking for one or two, which means that you have lots left over to freeze, and gnocchi freeze like a charm. The process is also meditative, like kneading bread. So if you're into meditative cooking, this is a recipe for you. To be continued...

Snow and Feeling Old

If this isn't the purdiest thing you've ever laid eyes on... This and three large pots of soup was all I did yesterday apart from feeling old because most nights John and I just sit around watching movies and reading. Not that we could go out and cause a ruckus if we wanted to, especially with six inches of snow on the ground. But I guess feeling old is better than actually being old (not to say that being old is a bad thing, but along the continuum of good and bad things...I'll shut up now).

Ooh, and I have an announcement. I'm doing some work for the Joy of Cooking over at their blog. Check us out.

Snow, laughter, and sore muscles

1.) Trudging around in the snow, my boots making that crunching noise.

2.) Having a genuine belly-laugh.

3.) The gym is smelly, crowded, and full of metallic noises, but sore muscles are so worth it.

Flemish art, fresh paint, and the smell of snow

1.) The always serene faces that stare back at me from a piece of Flemish art.

2.) A brand new set of acrylic paints.

3.) The air has smelled of snow all day. I feel like a child hoping for school to be canceled tomorrow.