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Wednesday, August 19, 2015

January 30, 2014


We’ve gained some daylight and quite noticeably so! Tonight, when I was scrubbing the sweet potatoes, that springish looking sun was right at blinding eye-level, coming through the kitchen window right over the kitchen sink. Now that’s the first time since—oh, I can’t remember when, that it was exactly at that level. Probably last year on January 30th!
Now, I thought about lowering the blind so I could actually see what I was doing, but the thrill of it being 4:30 on a January afternoon, and the sun still shining… well, it had me so enthralled, I scrubbed without looking. At the potatoes, that is.
Now dinner won’t be ready for nearly an hour, and by then it’ll surely be dark, but in a few more weeks, oh yeah—we’ll really know spring is on the horizon when we can actually eat dinner by daylight! And when temperatures are balmy enough to carry our plates out on BackPorch? Oh what luxury that will be!
Reports say the weather will be favorable for the Super Bowl this weekend. It’ll be played on the planned day, the sponsors hope seats will be filled to capacity, and we are assured that security measures will be stellar.
Now I’m not a football gal—don’t understand a thing about it, but it must be pretty amazing stuff to warrant coughing up a couple-grand for a ticket, all to sit in freezing temperatures, on a cold hard seat, crammed in with thousands of other screaming fans, and wondering if security is really as secure as is claimed! Whew! Nope. I sure can think of better ways to spend that money and warmer, more comfortable places to be.
There are Super Bowl Parties. It’s like Christmas again in the grocery stores, everyone getting the goods for their celebrations. Now that sounds like a little more fun, but likely I’d be in the kitchen, nibbling the nibblers and washing the pots, all-the-while wondering to myself what all the cheering and groaning is about around the screen.
Nope. Give me my quiet spot by the woodstove, quilt snuggly tucked, a hot cuppa by my side, a warm fluff-ball on my lap, and a good story to get lost in. Come bedtime, I’ll toddle off to dreamland, content as the proverbial Cheshire-cat

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