|my parents' backyard this afternoon|
I'm curled up on the couch under a blanket my mother knitted for me a few years ago with a book and a mug of tea. It's glorious! I'm rereading one of my favorite YA fiction series from when I was younger, which is always what happens when I come here, with Classic Christmas Carols: 50 Favourite Carols from the Choir of King's College, Cambridge playing in the background. My ginger tea is a bit too strong and it makes my nose tickle every time I take a sip.
At the same time, I'm trying to think through the contents of my kitchen and plan meals for the coming week or so. I'd like to empty out my fridge and continue working through my freezer before I go to the Bahamas with my family on the 21st - I see shepherd's pie in my future! Does anyone know a winter-appropriate recipe for salmon?
I'm wearing the last surviving pair of fuzzy socks from a pack that Mom bought me when I was living in London a few years ago and, with winter having truly arrived, I think I need more. The more garish the colors and patterns the better, right? And, if we're talking about needing things for winter, I'm running low on honey. My apartment is really dry now that the windows are closed and the heat's on; the humidifier helps, but I've been having a mug of hot water with honey first thing in the morning and last thing at night because the air is so dry that I've been waking up in the wee hours to cough. That disturbs Charlie, you know, and that's no good for anyone.
Speaking of Charlie, he's finally settled down after a day of running around in the snow. He sleeps as hard as he plays - he's sharing the couch with me at the moment, too worn out to even twitch with dreams.
The evening's going to be more of the same, I think. I love just hanging out with my family - I wish my sister could be down here, too, though I know she's happy in Boston. Mom made a fire a little while ago, so we'll probably head back to the living room after dinner to enjoy a companionable silence over our books and newspapers and knitting. These are the best kinds of wintery Sunday nights, don't you think?
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