I always get lulled into a false sense of security in January. After spending November and December dreading winter, January comes and I think, "Hm. This isn't so bad. I guess I can do this. Heck, January's half over and what do I have after that? February, a little March, and it'll be over before I know it. Easy." And then it snows some more and freezes some more and February comes and drags it's butt and it snows and gets colder than it even was in January and March moves even slower with more snow and ice and cold and the world is still gray and by April I am a first-class, seasonal-affective, certifiable lunatic.
But for now, it's January, and I'll enjoy wintery things for the brief time that I am able.
It's been snowing the most beautiful, still, cold powder all day. The kind of snow that dusts everything in sparkley glitter and crunches under your feet. The best thing about this snow is the marked lack of howling wind. I can take this kind of winter. If I had this kind of winter and it suddenly turned to spring in February, I would be a very happy woman.
Look, a girl can dream, okay?
Jonah actually agreed to suit up and go play in the snow today. He almost never does, probably largely due to the general unpleasantness of a bitter cold wind. Also, he's all my himself, poor kid, and what fun is it to play in the snow by yourself, anyway?
He insists on making snow angels on his tummy.
To each his own, I guess.
I decided that now it's winter and time to use all the yummy fruit I worked so hard at preserving.
I love making gallettes because they're so simple and rustic-looking and super easy to make. I got to test out my new French rolling pin (love it!) in the process.
Now I must go whip some cream so that it'll be ready when my husband gets home. He likes whipped cream. A lot. A whole lot. In fact, he doesn't really see the point of pie unless it has a nice mountain of whipped cream on top.