Lala Reminded Me That I'm Always Crabby in March

She's right, I am usually crabby and moody this time of year.  Whew.  Glad to still be normal.  Thanks for the reminder, Lala.

Our Cheese & Sausage Bubble Bread was a success.  We changed the recipe a bit (of course we did) putting in half sharp cheddar and half pepper jack cheese instead of all pepper jack (it kind of needed all pepper jack) and substituting browned Italian sausage for the ham.  I didn't wait more than 5 minutes to tear into it when it came out of the oven.  Even the recipe says to eat it hot (okay, it says "warm" but hot is kind of warm only more so), besides it smelled so good that I had to dive in.  It was hard to stop.  I mean, who could quit having those little bread balls smothered in butter with cheese and sausage kneaded in?  Certainly not me.  I did quit before I'd eaten the whole loaf (and before I made myself good and sick because we're pretty good at limiting fats) so there's some for today's lunch but it will be gone and temptation with it.  We had good, messy fun making it.

The rest of the day yesterday I lolled.  I tried chiseling away ice but it had gotten so hard that my chopper didn't make much of a dent.  I'm going out again once I post this and try making headway from the street side now that it's been above freezing for a day and has been raining.  I saw the melt and rain run down the street in sheets last night every time I looked out, so maybe it's at a place where I can move some of it.  I'm tired of nearly falling every time I park my car on the street.  And we're supposed to get 3-5 inches of snow by Tuesday morning.  Wisconsin is a festival of weather these days, most of it unwelcome.  That's what makes us hardy, I guess... or maybe it's what makes us more than a little nuts.

March 10--Mexico, Fipple Flute.  The morning air was so cool and clear and the village was quiet as Lisette walked from her small room down to the cafe that overlooked the sea.  She had been in the village of Santa Clarita for over a week and had settled into a routine.  Early mornings she read and wrote in the cafe.  She bought fruit in the market from the woman with eight fingers to have with a bit of bread and cheese for lunch.  She had adapted easily to having a siesta in the heat of the day, feeling renewed when she awoke, then spending the afternoon at her desk.

Okay.  Here I go.  Out to battle the ice.  Wish me luck.
--Barbara