Late November in the Puget Sound. For ten days it rained, almost without cease. Then, miraculously, it stopped. Today is our fourth consecutive day of sunshine. Gorgeous. Everything’s covered in hoarfrost in the mornings, but it dissipates early. Today’s predicted high is 45F.
Calcifer chugs away all day. He generates enough heat that he and the furnace never run at the same time. I am reading River Cottage handbooks, and watching the series in the evening, after we’ve put the child away for the night. One picks up a lot of five-dollar words, watching River Cottage. Nurdling. Bletting. Tupping. Raddles. Medlars.
I’ve got a roaring case of anxiety over the knitting I promised my grandmother, so I’ve turned to addressing Christmas cards instead. November-holiday-naysayers, listen: have you ever been the one in charge of the holidays? Because it takes me more than a month. I’m really, really glad I can buy cards and wrapping paper in November, because if I couldn’t, the whole production would drive me over the edge.
I improvised an apple-crumble cake, using a sour cream coffee cake recipe and my own instincts. Result: probably too much crumble, otherwise nice. I had to substitute wholemeal flour for about half the total amount, due to insufficiencies in the baking cupboard. Those shall shortly be remedied. Thanksgiving is next week … we have someone doing most of the work for us, but still. Oh lawdy be. There Shall Be Pies.