The temperatures are falling and frost is in the air. Automatically I think of making a pot of navy bean and ham soup with cornbread. Whether this is habit or instinct, I'm not sure. There is something just so comforting on a cold day to have homemade soup simmering on the stove, filling the house with gentle aromas and the anticipation of a tasty meal. Plus it frees me up to get some work done while it transforms itself into its delicious self.
The beans are soaking, my little fireplace is burning, and I've straightened up Anadaré awaiting the arrival of family members today. I'll work on the book for a couple of hours, put the rest of the ingredients into the soup pot, then weave until their ferry arrives.
I do feel very nestled in today. I think that's one of the blessings of this time of year. I love this cold, clear weather!
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