I’m headed over the hill again to work on Mom’s house. Sometimes it seems a never-ending task, but it will end. I just have to keep that in mind. I have company for the drive this time, which is infinitely better than going it alone. I need to frame it as a treasure hunt. Who knows what I will find this time.
On St. Patty’s Day, I got to go snow-shoeing and had a delightful day. The weather was perfect. Of course, I’m out of shape, and my foot has not healed completely, but the company was great, so who cares about a little discomfort. We stopped at a local mountain restaurant and ate corned beef and cabbage to celebrate the green. Speaking of which, though I remembered to tell everyone Happy St. Patrick’s Day, I completely forgot about wearing any green myself. I was dressed in blue from top to bottom, until I put on my black snow pants and black gloves. Oops. I also forgot to put up my shamrock welcome sign for the front patio. There’s always next year, I guess, if I remember.
I’ve been experimenting with new soups of late, and the most recent experiment turned out utterly scrumptious, or scrummy as Mary Berry would say. I used a technique I learned from my German niece-to-be. This kind of cooking may turn out to be year-round, not just for cold weather. So delicious.
I’ve also learned how to take out old silicone in order to put in new. The new won’t stick unless you get out all of the old. This is the last step in the shower before the new door goes in. Little steps, but I do love learning how to do things for myself.