holidays floating around (you'll see). And today there were multiples of instants adding up to one totally prosaic day, which started as all good novels do: a dark a stormy night. (Promise, there's an upswing coming.) Walker blew into our flat this afternoon proclaiming that it was definitely the worst day, weather-wise, this year. Grizzly, cold, windy. The birds were swarming ominously and loading the air with their squawks.
The wind came in yesterday, and when we turned the corner walking home from dinner, Walker actually had to yank me off the stairs I was so stuck in the wind. Its effects on the waves were obvious today: thick, fast, and furious. (seriously, check out all those guys speeding in!)
Anyway, the weather, in addition to being dreary, was hazy, and I got a migraine. I sat in front of my computer (bad idea), waiting to write and not. I texted Walker telling him I couldn't make dinner, and he must have prayed, because ZING! I had a dinner inspiration and the headache left. The relief of being rescued and free to think about something other than pain is one of the most joyful instants I can imagine. I've talked about this before, but I'm celebrating it again today, along with the rise of the yellows in our garden.
Unfortunately, in all the tumult outside and in today, I forgot it was Pi Day. Math geekiness+an excuse to eat pie+memories of highschool whipped creamings=a great holiday. Alas, I baked nothing for the occasion. Last week, however, my gluten-free success story was a leek and comte tart, and that's close enough to a pie. The crust was butter-flaky, and I am so grateful for inspiration.<div class="daily-double"
