I woke up this morning to lightning in a snowfall. It looked like some god had discharged a flashbulb a few miles away, briefly and brightly illuminating everything. (Is there a god of paparazzi?) The thickly falling snowflakes reflected the light in all directions. It was very cool.
I like to watch snow falling. It's magnificent. Watching a whole vector field morph through time.
And then, having trudged through the inconsistently-cleared sidewalks of packed, crumbly, slippery sheets of snow, having purchased a long-lusted-after book, I made my way home and soup. A delicious deep orange concoction (colored by carrots and orange lentils), lovingly homogenized into a smooth, flavorful mush using the immersion blender that Someone I Love Gave Me.
Snow, soup, a book. What more could I ask for?
Are you, dear reader, currently being warmed by food or writing? If not, I suggest a delightful combination of the two: the short story "Cooking From Central France: Roast Boned Rolled Stuffed Shoulder of Lamb (Farce Double)" by Harry Matthews. It is hilariously performed by Isaiah Sheffer here (~40 minutes long, worth every second); program information is here.
This post's theme word is astraphobia, "abnormal fear of lightning and thunder." Alice's astraphobia abated at the arrival of a blizzard.
This post written like Chuck Palahniuk. That's a first.
No comments:
Post a Comment