Thanksgiving

Pretty Edinburgh street on the way to the Museum of Modern Art

As the insanity in the US picks up torque, as the federal election steadily accelerates toward the finish line and as the days grow shorter and colder, I feel most like hunkering down and covering my head.

I suppose it is a function of my increased age that I can't help but think that none of this (except the daylight thing) will end well.

An invitation to have sex on a bike in Edinburgh

The focal point of this weekend - the launch of the overeating season that runs from Thanksgiving to Easter - is, of course, food. I have company today and tomorrow, and Monday we're out for a fine meal at the Old Mill with Bruce's family. Then we'll stuff ourselves until the next equinox.

Pretty chicken fat pattern on the stock from boiled bones

The return of the cold weather means I can pre-cook evening meals on the weekend. I'll make soup or stew or a giant mass of pasta, portion it into Ziplock containers and put it in the fridge. During the week, just before I get home around 6:45, Bruce will reheat one of the containers and make a salad, so supper's ready when I come in the door.

Thanks for reading!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Karen