I woke up this morning to an otherworldly warm. It was balmy and misty. Decided to set up on Ikenberry's porch in case of rain. Good thing I did. The rain came pouring down. Going to the farmer's market is my social hour. Thanks to Jonathan at Star City Coffee, we have plenty of good beans and big carafes of hot coffee. Thanks to Coco we have plenty of heavy cream. What more could you ask for on a Saturday morning? Friends, coffee, a chat with neighbors and plenty of brownie and bread and butter samples.
The wind blew in a cold front. Philip and the kids were home cleaning out the barn and splitting wood and I was enjoying my alone time way too much, so I went for a drive down some country roads. The sky was incredible. Steel blue cotton batting banks of clouds whizzed along as I drove. The sun peeked out, causing the golden trees to glow in the middle of the gray forests. Most of the leaves have fallen, but there were a few holdouts. I laughed as I saw the brown leaves scurrying across the road. They were running like crazy. I wonder where they thought they were going? Someplace warm, I hope.
I got home as the sun dipped low. Rose and Nora and friend Anita were running in the hay meadow as fast as they could run. Brownie and Blackie ran right alongside them. There was a big pile of freshly split wood courtesy of Thomas. Philip, Maggie and Patrick were finishing the barn floor wash down.
There won't be much cooking happening around here tonight. The oven wants a break. So does the cook. BUT, I bought some locally grown and processed sorghum from a man who lives not too far from here. When I tasted it, I went straight back to my grandma's house in Oklahoma. I remember the time we made taffy from sorghum molasses. It was so much fun. We ate and ate. And got very sick. Great opportunity to learn about knowing your limits. With those quart jars of sorghum sitting on the pantry shelf I am thinking about homemade gingerbread with whipped cream on top. Maybe not tonight. But soon. Very soon.