Sometimes it takes a fall day, drizzling damp all the way through, to restore us. We planted grass seed last week and this grey medieval rain turns brown earth green again. Halfway through the day my daughter said macaroni and cheese would be good.
Elbow macaroni, a simple butter/flour roux with dry mustard, a few cups of milk and a heap of cubed, sharp cheddar whisked smooth. Into a buttered pyrex casserole, sprinkled with sweet paprika, and baked in a 350°F oven until bubbly and browned.
Steam rose.
We read, cleaned the house, listened to the radio.
Hot bubbly cheese, everyone wanted the crust - ketchup, anyone?
birch and grasses alone on the snow, grey sky indistinguishable. the flat
world falls into the edge of time, lifeless, dull wedge of horizon and
soundless ...
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Oh why do you torment me so Patrick. I want to come eat at your home??
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