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Conifer of Ember
Dec. 7th, 2025 07:43 pmSadly, the whole sleeping thing didn't go as well as hoped. We both had too many wakings and woke up for good too early. Or too early for our good! But this was not all bad, because we resigned ourselves to a nap after we'd had some tea and whatnot and still felt too tired. And I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed the nap. I dreamed we had moved into a little house by the lakeshore, and the colors were still on the leaves and it hadn't snowed yet. My father had come for a visit, and the Sparrowhawk gave him a hellebore in a pot as a parting gift. I was making a grocery run, just like in real life, and looked at the view across the water and thought "Wow, who ever would have thought we could live here!" It was very restful too.
Which was a good thing, because the rest of the day was not! I put my boots on and shoveled the driveway again. A few more inches of snow had fallen during the night. Then I made a grocery run in real time, to get ingredients needed to complete my dish for the potluck. When I started unloading my bags into the car, I found a case of Stella Artois and a 12-pack of gin drinks in cans. I was pretty sure I hadn't intended to purchase these, and a check of my receipt showed that I certainly hadn't paid for them. Reader, I confess to a half-second of temptation in which the unworthy thought of "Bwahahaha, free drinks!" entered my mind. But I hit that ol' serpent with the shovel of righteousness and pushed the cart back into the store, where the checker was glad to see these items because they were meant for another customer, and she had wrongly shoved them into my cart instead. Drinks in cans are never any good anyway.
At home I immediately started browning my spice-rubbed chicken and chopping onions and garlic, and then adding peppers, ginger, tomatoes, mangoes, and currants. The Sparrowhawk made a really big pot of rice. The house became aromatic again. I barely had time for a cup of tea while the pot was simmering, and then we loaded the rice pot and the curry pot into the big thermal bag and somehow lugged it out to the car. That thing was heavy.
When we put it in the car again, after much chatting with people at the potluck, it was much lighter, but still hard to drag for us old folks. There was just enough left to fill one refrigerator container. I feel good because that means people got fed.
Which was a good thing, because the rest of the day was not! I put my boots on and shoveled the driveway again. A few more inches of snow had fallen during the night. Then I made a grocery run in real time, to get ingredients needed to complete my dish for the potluck. When I started unloading my bags into the car, I found a case of Stella Artois and a 12-pack of gin drinks in cans. I was pretty sure I hadn't intended to purchase these, and a check of my receipt showed that I certainly hadn't paid for them. Reader, I confess to a half-second of temptation in which the unworthy thought of "Bwahahaha, free drinks!" entered my mind. But I hit that ol' serpent with the shovel of righteousness and pushed the cart back into the store, where the checker was glad to see these items because they were meant for another customer, and she had wrongly shoved them into my cart instead. Drinks in cans are never any good anyway.
At home I immediately started browning my spice-rubbed chicken and chopping onions and garlic, and then adding peppers, ginger, tomatoes, mangoes, and currants. The Sparrowhawk made a really big pot of rice. The house became aromatic again. I barely had time for a cup of tea while the pot was simmering, and then we loaded the rice pot and the curry pot into the big thermal bag and somehow lugged it out to the car. That thing was heavy.
When we put it in the car again, after much chatting with people at the potluck, it was much lighter, but still hard to drag for us old folks. There was just enough left to fill one refrigerator container. I feel good because that means people got fed.
