As the rain cometh

 I was lucky to get Angela, Rose and myself out the door today before afternoon rolled around because that is when it happened. The air went heavy and hushed, the sky to the west began to darken and then before you knew it, it was near purple with the promise of a heavy rain. Yes and then, hard rain it did. Such a hard rain left me with a sleepy contentedness and I set to my work. A beef roast with rustic vegetables; potatoes, carrots and onions in a shallow pool of sherry. Dusted with powered sage, black pepper and sea salt. Dotted with butter. In addition to this lovely main course, I baked three sweet potatoes. My mother, Dolores, would bake sweet potatoes in a shallow pan of water, just enough to loosen their skins. She would cut butter into small pieces and rub into shifted flour. A little cold water later and some handy labor, she would have a pie crust. It would go into a pie plate that had been in our family for at least three generations. I can close my eyes and still feel it in my hands, at the time heavy but warm as a kiss on the cheek. I was a child then but even now as a woman, a wife and mother, I find the perfume of a sweet potato pie to be like a sigh from heaven. A balm to this garden woman's soul.

An hour and twenty minutes later, I sit sipping berry sweet tea, fill a happy belly and an even happier heart. Sitting in the living room, watching Gladiator and planning out more of my garb for my SCA persona. I finally purchased my SCA membership last week and I am steadily fleshing out Octavia Juliana, Roman by way of Byzantine. With luck both her name and arms will be approved, conflict free.

Now my lovelies, I bid you goodnight and sweet dreams. May your week be sweet and full of wonder.