Frosty Morning

I joined the Instagram world, did you know? This morning was super cold and frost was fractal-ing everywhere. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road when I kept on wanting to stare at the back window, which was covered in a gorgeous white sparkly pattern. I took this photograph in an effort to capture the frost that was crisping every golden blade of grass, every sawgrass plume, every stiff cattail and every platinum-filled silky milkweed pod. I believe I failed, but the filter made the image pretty nonetheless.

So, today I am making creamy mushroom soup and buttermilk squash muffins with a fire blazing downstairs wondering this: why did I say I was going to do this write every day thing!? Ha! I'll have you know that I am laughing as I write this. Maybe a little crazily. I was busy today (and VOTED today, did you?) and really right now I'd like to go downstairs and watch Blues Clues with my son down in our cozy TV room by the fire. But what am I doing? Writing in the coldest room in the house. Hmm.

Here's where I want to note this: the hard part is the good part! (The lazy part of me is utterly unconvinced, btw.) I'm finding my way, and that is never easy. And to find your self you must suffer some doldrums, some chaff, if you will. Like yesterday's post. I was so unhappy with it. I was trying to finish rendering some leaf lard (came out perfectly--snowy white!) and make sure to call a dear friend, and so I patched together bits from the morning with the evening. I sent it off into the ether-verse! Who cares anyways, says I!

So, in an effort at quantity I am going to forego quality. Does that make any sense at all? Right now it is. I'm forging ahead, unashamed at the scattered quality of my posting.