Carrot Cake

 This town is on the edge of a snowstorm predicted to bring a foot of snow pushed forward by thirty mile an hour winds. Don't know if it will happen, but many surrounding school districts have already closed for tomorrow in anticipation.  Good idea to err on the side of caution, particularly when parents need to make child care arrangements ahead of time.  I am waiting for the news of this city closing, but if you look out at the evening sky there is not a single harbinger snowflake fluttering down.  

The circus of snow and thunder and ice is to begin around ten o'clock this night, and continue well throughout the next day.  I am lucky in that I am warm, safe, and have a cupboard full of cat food.  The package containing a cake for my son is now traversing the roads and airways down to Washington DC and will hopefully arrive not jiggled into delicious sludge.  

I made a sturdy cake of almonds and semolina which then was soaked in an orange syrup.  It's a Greek recipe called Revani, made by angels and tender grandmothers.  A cake that can get jounced around a bit without losing integrity.  Besides, if it does end up as crumbs, mixing it together with vanilla ice cream is not a bad way to go.  

If there is a snow day, tomorrow's adventure will include either making a Black Rock cheesecake or a carrot cake.  Or baking bread.  Or sticky buns with caramel bottoms and walnuts.  Always a good thing for a cold day when you are locked in.  My introverted self loves an unexpected day off, for it means art, egg dying, baking, reading, research, or pushing furniture around.  Tossing stuff away, enjoying when it gets picked up for use by my neighbors.  I, ladies and gentlemen, am a rabbit.  

 According to a website, "Rabbits are private individuals and a bit introverted.  People born in the Year of the Rabbit are reasonably friendly individuals who enjoy the company of a group of good friends.  They are good teachers, counselors and communicators, but also need their own space."  This is the revelation from a Chinese calendar, whose New Year is on February 3, the day after Groundhog Day.  I think I like this! A whole year to accomplish rabbit ideas and rabbit deals.  Hmm.  I think the carrot cake is winning approval for tomorrow's bake-a-rama.  How to be more like a rabbit...

Tonight so far is cold and clear.  It puzzles me how resilient the outdoor animals who live through the pounding cold are, surviving to greet the spring.  Tomorrow is Candlemas Day, the observance of the midpoint between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, when the medieval folk brought their candles to the church to be blessed.  Toss a handful of birdseed out before going in the door, it's a tough life out there.  

No moon or stars, there is a low cloud cover reflecting city lights.  I have an assignment to read for class before bed but will keep most papers still for I am tired.  Sinking into slumber will be nice, and the many wakings I have in the night will mark the plight of the snowstorm.  Right now with roads clear, trucks and cars rush about noisily caroming through the over and under passes.  Snow slows that mess right down, and turns the sky orange from reflecting the sodium streetlights on white flakes.  So tonight I will listen for nothing, and if the soft cotton air of nothing is washed in an orange glow, that will mean the storm has come.  Who knows what it will leave behind?

Sleep, Uncle Groundhog, sleep.  Tomorrow is your day to let us know how much more weather we deserve, and what stores we need to keep till brightened days melt the frost and dull ice.  We human folks could put on socks, and if the room is cold, a nightcap.  Tuck under, you are safe; make it better for someone or something tomorrow with a bread crust for the birds, or a carrot for any winter rabbits searching in snow.  Sleep well.