This morning I'm feeling like it will take an explosion, or at least someone wielding a big stick, to get me moving. "Tis a frosty morning (gray and drippy AGAIN) that made our new flannel sheets feel mighty good. And, yes, I did sleep in a little . . . had to do something profitable with that extra hour we gained last night.
November 1st today. How did that happen? I truly feel September and October went by faster this year than July and August. Anybody else notice that? I'm still struggling with the "summer" jobs not yet completed. The time is fast approaching when I need to throw in the proverbial towel and face reality. They are not going to get done this year. Dang. Seems I'm always fighting summer chores in the fall, fall chores in the winter, on and on. I want to go skippingly along rather than step . . . trip . . . step . . . trip.
Eggs? Eggs? Anybody got eggs? The lack of daylight (could have something to do with total lack of SUN light, too) has thrown our chickens into a molt and, as my husband, puts it, we're getting 1/2 an egg a day. Our daughter, Chicken Mama of the Northwoods, isn't in any better shape. The farm where we buy our milk has had a "Sorry, no eggs right now" sign on their cooler for a couple of weeks. Times like this sure do point up how very much I use fresh, organic eggs in my cooking.
I'm looking at the (dusty) Halloween decorations around the house this morning knowing they need to go and make way for the Thanksgiving ones. Turkey Day will be here in about 3-1/2 weeks. Also time for me to make my annual batch of fruitcake from my mom's recipe. It's not your usual fruitcake. (You know, dry, heavy, sweet but tasteless and can be used as a doorstop or boot scraper by the back door.) Mom's is more like a moist, heavy spice cake and has no candied fruit in it but rather a mixture of dried fruits: dates, apples, apricots, raisins (or craisins), and peaches. Made with honey rather than sugar which adds to the moistness. It's baked in loaf pans and is so good. I give our daughter a loaf as soon as I get it baked, and she soaks hers in spirits . . . rum or brandy or some such . . . until Christmas time. Not a bad little treat if you're home for the evening and in your jammies prior to indulging.
I've been sitting here sipping my morning latte while typing, and I think I'm getting sleepier. (Something's not working!) So I fear the only solution to my oncoming stupor is to get up, and do something a little more physical.
Look out ghosts, bats, goblins and ghoulies! You're gonna get packed away for another year. And it wouldn't hurt if I dusted and vacuumed either.
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