I’m not going to shovel snow because it will all have melted away by Monday. That’s what I’ve decided.
I’m nibbling from the warm cannellini dish which was meant for dinner. On a low fire fry finely sliced garlic with thyme, pepper and salt in a good amount of olive oil, until the garlic is just brown (*almost* burnt). Add cannellini beans, heat until just warm, Â add a little lemon juice (just detectable to the tongue). Toss. Eat.
Bread dough is rising next to the radiator.
The snow has let up. Four inches, I’d say. My street hasn’t been plowed yet.
Glenn Gould is playing Bach.
DH brought me aÂ cappuccinoÂ with a gorgeous microfoam leaf. Â This is his espresso machine. Yes, we’re particular about our coffee. But I have to specify that DH can’t make espresso from water. I do love M’s remark at the end, which expresses my sentiment exactly.
Amie is proofreading this as I write. We’re going to read a Moomin book now.
I’m read most of The Summer Book today as the snow fell. Its quiet vignettes reminded me of our little explorations. Did you realize we both gave each other books with “Summer” in the title during December?
We did, didn’t we! I’ve not read Prodigal Summer yet, though. Maybe I have to wait for the real Summer to get here…
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