Book Club: The Morning Muse

Three cups of tea and far past my bedtime.

Book Club mornings cast a rosy glow over my whole Saturday.

Today’s started at 4am, pale sunlight bathing my white bedspread. All was quiet and still, aside from soft suckling sounds from Baby. Sleep evaded me and the rest of the household last night (I blame the pork loin and Reddit seconds my claim), but I stumbled straight into the kitchen after laying Little One back down—eyes still groggy as eggs crack, crack, cracked into the ceramic bowl. Candles flickered on, one, two, three, and began a lively dance as their fragrance meandered through the room.

I find cooking to be much more delightful recipes aside, and mottled through my first attempt at egg bake. It’s hard to mess up browned sausage, diced onion, shredded potato, sharp cheddar, Monterey jack, and eggs whipped with raw milk and garlic salt. With two casserole pans in the oven at 350 degrees, I began laying out fruit.

Raspberries. Blueberries. Strawberries. Grapes. Cantaloupe and honeydew. I took pleasure in filling small terra cotta bowls, pie pans, wood trays and assorted ceramics in the darkness of the kitchen. I do not have the correct dishes for every occasion, which makes every time I lay out food a different riddle I love puzzling over.