It snowed overnight. About three inches. The roads are icy now but the yards are starting to get slushy. I’m sure it will all be gone tomorrow.
In the meantime, despite the total lack of danger, we have instituted all emergency measures: we went to breakfast in the “new” old 4×4 truck, Bruce (pretending that we didn’t have power), we took stock of the liquor cabinet, we have both popcorn and ice cream on hand, we have a roaring fire going, and we’re having one of Matt’s odder childhood favorite menus for dinner.
Chili and cinnamon rolls. This was one of the signature dishes of the lunch lady up in Darrington, where Matt spent the latter half of his childhood. She was either brilliant or mad. Either way, the kids loved her food. She is why Matt had a natural love of tater tot casserole and I, having grown up in the vast valley area referred to in Darrington as “down below,” had a natural distrust of it. My school district did not have such dedicated lunch ladies.
I have clarified that they did not, as I feared, actually serve the chili over the cinnamon rolls chili-dog style, but that they used the cinnamon rolls “you know, like rolls” to scoop up the chili like biscuits after stew.
Still sounds sacrilegious to me.
(I’m looking forward to eating it nonetheless.)