I have spent the last 30 odd hours keeping the home fires a'burnin. Literally. I like wood heat, and I am quickly being reminded of what a particular pain in the ass it is in a dusty, 160 year old house that relies on it for its primary heat source. Needless to say, I find myself limited in how long I can be away or as to how far I may roam. Mom and dad have oldest nephew at a hockey tournament and we are officially in the midst of a bit of a cold snap - nothing too serious, only about -20 (c), but enough to turn what was fluffy snow this morning, into squeeky snow tonight. The stars are beautiful though.
My youngest nephew stayed over last night and slept with me. He's pretty cute. He turns 11 in June, but he's on the cusp of struggling between growing up and carving his own path, but not being bashful about climbing up and sitting on your lap. I like that in him. Don't get me wrong, he can be a shit, but he has his moments of flowers. It's funny that staying in the old house is a bit wonky for me. Not completely unnerving, yet at the same time, not entirely settled either. Nannie was a midwife and there were 105 babies born in the bedroom at the top of the stairs. Needless to say the old house has seen a lot of life. I kind of wish that the kid was staying over here again tonight.
I had a canteen burger. When I say that I had a canteen burger at ten o'clock at night, what I am saying is that I had the delicacy that was weighed down by the works and cheese and when you bit into just the right place, it ran down your arm, it was steamy hot and the bun was mushy. It's officially a week of PMS. This burger was justified. I'm still trying to figure out exactly how to explain the bag of skor pieces - those good ones for making the squares - that my mother had for baking and I, well, I snarfed them. Damn they were good.
This afternoon I went visiting. Stopped in to see Grampie - who had just baked molasses cookies, mince meat pies and fresh donuts, and had a stew on with dough boys. I was there all of 20 minutes (I was supposed to return for supper) and ate 4 cookies, fresh from the oven. I averaged 1 cookie per 5 minutes. I went to see PC's mom and dad. I stayed for... 7 HOURS! That wasn't a visit, that was a bloody sleepover! Holy Hannah! But it was fun and the time flew by. PC's dad loves telling stories. He was particularly pleased to find out that I loved listening.
It's been a good day.