The full moon is out there, lighting up the snow and casting serious shadows. It makes me think of Cat Stevens and David Bowie.
We made a trip tonight up to Rose's for two gallons of milk and four dozen eggs, which enabled me to sit here slurping warm tapioca pudding.
C. cut some stove wood from the log pile, and I pitched it... toward... the porch. Didn't make it all the way. I'll finish tomorrow. Snow isn't expected until next week.
I'm especially gimpy, still recovering from my shopping trip yesterday. Costco, Winco, Safeway and the feed store are too much to do in one day. And there was all that digging in the snow the day before....
But the pantry is full (24 pounds of rice, 20 of whole wheat flour and 25 of rolled oats), and so is the fridge, overflowing with cheeses and eggs and other good stuff. And we have vanilla, in case we get tired of baking with amaretto liquer. (I haven't noticed any difference.)
C. says I'm overly interested in food. I think I'm interested just the right amount. And food security is pretty important out here in the toolies, with a limited income. Harrumph.
I need to get the old seeds out, so we can put together our seed orders for the garden. It will, of course, be the best garden ever. That's our plan.