That's the actual temperature at this very minute. D'you want to know what the wind chill is? Eleven below--and it's windy too. I will be putting plastic over the window above the bed as soon as I post this and I can actually feel the cold radiating from the outside walls sitting here facing the corner of the house. I purely hate this time of year or, more precisely, the weather this time of year. It's not sunny either. Usually when it's this cold the sky is clear and the sun shines down like it can make a difference in the temperature, today it's overcast. Bah. I ducked out this morning to fill the feeders and was glad I had when I saw Mr. Downy Woodpecker on the suet and then the peanuts. You're welcome, sir. Last night I went out to take sunset pictures and walked into the wind blowing the frigid weather in. I think that might have been the fastest photo shoot on record. I was out, snapped two shots, and was back in before I turned to a pillar of ice. Brr.
Last night's waffle supper was a triumph. I tinkered with a Belgian waffle recipe I found on Allrecipes.com. It wanted me to separate the eggs and whip the whites into stiff peaks and then fold them in. I didn't. I just whisked the eggs with the other wet ingredients, like the fake buttermilk I made with a teaspoon of lemon juice and milk since buttermilk's not a staple in our fridge, and then whisked in the dry ingredients until most of the lumps were gone. I took out the pinch of cinnamon (Durwood's not a cinnamon fan) and substituted a half-teaspoon of malt powder. Next time I'll up that to a whole teaspoon. Then I cored, peeled, and sliced a Granny Smith apple and sauteed it in butter and brown sugar while frying up a couple sausage patties per person. I had one waffle, Durwood had two, and there was enough batter left for us to split one this morning. That wasn't enough apples for us to have as much as we wanted and for sure none survived until breakfast but syrup was an adequate substitute. Yum. We'll do that again.
I started a newborn sweater last night after supper. It's called Hello Baby. The yarn I'm using is some acrylic I got from Goodwill so this is a practice sweater. I'll knit the real one for our personal baby out of some softer yarn but this one will get a bath in some hair conditioner and be a lot softer when it gets close to a baby. This pattern is making a lot more sense than it did the last time I started knitting it. Experience is a wonderful teacher. And this is one of those that you have to read through first because it has an "at the same time" direction in it which means if you don't read it you'll be ripping out a whole whack of it and starting over. Experience is good. Reading ahead is good too. *patting self on back*
January 17--E. Berg, Sketchbook. The black lines crept and stretched across the page, looping and bending to form shapes. Here a leg, there a torso. All the faces were blank or turned away so there were no persons on the paper, only lines. Thick and thin. Bold, energetic, shy. One diagonal line flowed from shape to shape, clasping hands in the middle.
I wanted that to go on but it didn't. I like it though. Now it's time to seal up that west-facing window and cut off the icy breeze that tickles me at night. Stay in and stay warm. I will, well, except for when I go out to put the birdseed I bought yesterday away, but I'll bundle up, I promise. Chicken tacos and Mexican rice for supper tonight. You so wish you would be here too.