Easter Day was sunny and 50 degrees here. Crocuses, snowdrops, and a few early daffodils are blooming. The buds on the magnolia trees are just beginning to open. Lawns are starting to green up.
We’re so hungry for the sight of more blooming things that this floral tablecloth was the perfect choice. It’s not old—the label on it says “Waterford”—but that oversized print (lilacs! lilies! peonies! er, daisies? and, uh, some other flowers I’m too lousy a gardener to recognize) has a vintage vibe. There are napkins to match, too.
It’s my lucky day!
I don’t think there’s much Irish in either BluesRay or me, but we’re celebrating St Patrick’s Day anyway.
The table has a vintage white cotton damask cloth to start, topped with a wonderful Startex print of lucky charms.
The tag says it’s a kitchen towel.
We woke up to a bright and sunny, if very cold, morning today. After half an hour outdoors with the dog, we warmed up with piping hot bowls of steel-cut oats and strawberries.
I started with a bright tablecloth of daisies in red, yellow, and green. That’s a lot of wow for only three colors!
Then there’s a yellow Lu-Ray plate. Because yellow is a happy color, of course. The really old Sterling China bowl is perfect for oatmeal because the thick hotel china holds the heat.
I like steel cut oats a lot, they’re filling and they warm you right up on a cold morning. But I don’t like standing over the stove stirring them for thirty minutes till they’re cooked. Most mornings I have better things to do to get everyone out the door to work and school.
So I cook oatmeal the lazy way: overnight in a crockpot. Easy!
Since yesterday was The Feast of Epiphany—aka Three Kings Day—I finally baked some Three Kings Cake today.
I’m only a day late!
Why it’s called “cake” is a mystery. It’s not cake. It’s a barely-sweet yeast bread studded with bits of yummy dried fruit, baked in the shape of a king’s crown and topped with cherry “jewels.” Yep, there’s more!
It’s been snowing since this morning.
So far we have fifteen inches.
It’ll snow all night.
Twice already we’ve shovelled the driveway, the front steps, and the back deck. We’ll do it again before bed. We’ll do it again in the morning.
I can hear the snowplows scraping down the street every half hour. I love being inside my snug house and hearing that sound. They’ll be plowing straight through tomorrow afternoon. Twenty-eight hours of shoving snow around! God bless the plow guys. Yep, there’s more!