Another year’s in the books for Chef David and for me. Here we are, smack in the middle of birthday week, and smack in the middle of scrubbing, sorting, pitching, and packing ahead of Reboot.2, this time the two of us plus one bewildered doggie. It’ll be okay, we think. We’ve done this before and know what to expect, although not during a pandemic nor during the height of hurricane season in our destination city.

Last night David prepared an exquisite dinner of Yorkshire pudding with the filet we’ve had in the freezer for a little bit, waiting for the proper moment. He wasn’t happy with the texture of the pudding because he made it with what was available, which happened to be almond milk. I was frankly thrilled with it. We uncorked a bottle of Ramey Cabernet (one of The Chef’s gifts to me), 2015, and ate and drank to a somewhat creepy Tommy Lee Jones movie.

Today is the Bennington Battle Parade, which queues up on our road, effectively hemming us in for a few hours. Maybe I’ll snap some photos, maybe not. The fife and drum corps are pretty interesting, you can have your fire trucks.

I’ve been reflecting on names for the new blog I’ll launch after we arrive in North Carolina next month. I’ll keep Sycamore Stories alive and link to it. But I think the next blog will be less about journaling and more about composition, maybe essays on one page and continued forays into fiction on another; there will certainly be pretty pictures, too. Stay tuned.

Raising a glass of good Southern iced tea to me and my chef.