I was glad that I hadn’t planned to do anything exciting today. The snow made me housebound with no desire to venture outside, except for the chores. Early, I hauled out the ashes from my wood burner and hauled in a load of firewood on my wooden wheelbarrow. The snow was falling, but had scarcely had put down a coating. That was my outside work for the day.
I put off making peanut brittle until today. I made several batches last year without a hitch, but I wasn’t so fortunate this year. The microwave seems to be of a higher wattage and scorched the first two batches; the first filled the house with a burnt sugar smell. The second had improved, but the color was still too dark and had a slightly bitter taste. I eventually made several types of brittle: peanut, almond, cashew, and pecan. They are cooling on my built-in back porch. Tomorrow, I will break them into pieces and store them in bags.
I spent part of the day looking for the water bill. I know that I got it several days ago. I remember taking it out of the mailbox, but where I placed it I don’t know. Maybe I left it in the car. No, it wasn’t there, but I learned not to walk in the snow with crocs. It was no fun with my feet in the air and my elbow and fanny on the ground. Later, I even searched the trash cans with no luck. I may just go to their office tomorrow and pay it there.
When I looked at the sales circulars, I saw one store had women’s underwear on sale and I became nostalgic. No, I don’t wear them, but shortly after Cindy and I were married, she walked by me with the material separated from the elastic waist band. I said, “Can’t we afford new ones?” She said, “They’re still good.” When she walked by me again, I tore them and said, “Now they’re not.” Complaining, she said, “Now you can buy me some new ones” and I did, every Christmas after that. It became a tradition. I wish I could do it again this year.