The Only Snow
The only snow we see here is in books and the little snow-capped mountain of whipped cream on the berry-biscuit sundae I got at Salt and Straw yesterday. Poor Meemers slept through it, even though it was her idea to go. I did everything I could to wake her up but alas, I just had to buy a pint of Woodblock Chocolate to take home. For her. :)
We went for a walk to look for signs of spring, and no, we didn't have to look very far at all. It's here, apparently, as unnerving as that feels to me. My car thermometer read 65 degrees on Tuesday. Without exaggeration, we needed sunscreen at the park Tuesday afternoon. And it was one of those low-angled, sort of glaring white winter suns, without benefit of leafy trees, puffy clouds, or sunglasses. Yesterday, though, was all gray, and dark. Through the mucky brown leaves of winter, daffodils and crocuses stretch and yawn. Trees froth forth with petal and little leaf. We had our yard cleaned up by a lawn service this week. I just knew we weren't going to have time or energy to do it ourselves, and I get so bummed out when the spring clean up is late, and we miss the show. So, we're ready for the show (yard-wise, if not psychologically), and the show is here.
That said, if you're lucky enough to be covered in snow like my bestie, Martha, who lives outside of Boston, Mass., and sends me pictures of mountains of snow in driveways, front yards, backyards, on top of garbage cans, and generally everywhere on everything, and who tolerates me saying things like, "Awesome! Oh man! I'm so jealous!!! Wah!!! Poor me!!!" like, a lot, when actually her arms are about to fall off from shoveling, you might like this spaghetti casserole. It's another one from my childhood winters — funny how having a child makes you want to cook her food from your own childhood. What's up with that? Mom knew what kids liked. This one is pure convenience, and comes out hot and bubbly with little effort. Basically, you boil up 1 pound of spaghetti, and please under-cook it a bit, so it's quite al dente, or I'll have to throw up. (I hate overcooked pasta.) Beat 2 eggs and add them to 1 cup of milk. After draining the spaghetti, put it back in the pan and add the milk/eggs and 4 to 8 oz. of plain cream cheese. Stir everything together until the cream cheese melts. Dump it into a 9"x13" pan and top with your favorite jarred spaghetti sauce (I only use about 1/3 jar) and Mozzarella cheese. Bake at 350 degrees F until cheese melts and everything looks browned and delicious.
My new year's resolution was "Try not to be such a jerk about the hot weather in the summer." Technically, it's still winter, so . . . agh. That's a technicality. I only said "summer" because it never occurred to me I'd be complaining about it in winter! This one's gonna be hard to keep. Actually, obviously, in spirit, I've already failed. And it's only February.
***The umbrella is probably fifteen years old, originally purchased at the incomparable but now-so-sadly defunct Daisy Kingdom. Miss you, DK.
