or Groundhog Day?
I know it’s February and most people are thinking about Valentine’s Day, but my neighbors are hanging on to that last little bit of Christmas cheer. And why shouldn’t they?
Some of my neighbors are actually providing a safe haven for reindeer, moose and elk during the winter months when Animalia food sources are scarce.
A rare Polish Elk. The dominant male can have a herd of six females. He sheds his rack anytime from January to April after he’s pretty much had his way with all of them (and successfully fended off his rivals).
Raise your hand if you think this is the best all-purpose holiday message in the neighborhood, or even in the world.
That being said, who will know if I spend Valentine’s Day trying to make the best ever Christmas cake? How does that hurt anybody, since I’m going to skip my cholesterol test this year. And no matter what time of the year I make this cake I’m proud to say it represents global collaboration: English recipe, Turkish apricots, Oregon cherries and currants, California citrus, Washington state flour, and Indian spices.
Speaking of holidays past—and there’s no reason to feel guilty about that because physics tells us the present is the past in a nanosecond, anyway.
I’ve been missing our past visits to Denmark, especially the pre-COVID trip that coincided with San Francisco Ballet’s ROMEO AND JULIET tour.
Here’s a temporary cure, order yourself Jyan Issac’s brick sized Danish “rugbørd” (rye bread) with his cultured butter Jyanisaacbread.com and then stream performances from San Francisco Ballet sfballet.org.
Dear Jyan, you’re an important part of my all-carb diet. I’ve gorged on your gorgeous sourdough breads and topped them off with my very own double chocolate, double ginger pecan brownies.
And sometimes I pretend I’m on an exotic glamping trip where guests are forced to eat gourmet marshmallows enflamed by an industrial stove.
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Whatever it takes to get you through this (hopefully) soon-to-be-forgotten past is just fine.
One thought on “VALENTINE’S DAY”
Another fantastic post, Florence, where the quality of the photography is matched by that of the prose!