It was a dark and stormy Monday...
I climbed the stairs up from the dark basement quickly. The humidity following. It's grip weakening as my feet fell upon the final tread. Without looking, I closed the switch and let the door slam behind me. I turned the lock.
My heart thumped, keeping tempo with the thunder outside.
This is just like Sophia's storm in The Summer Book.
I worried about the pepper plants and the newly planted mums. They were drowning. It was all we could do, hope for the best.
Hope and Carrot Walnut Cake (quickbread)
I pursed my lips and held my breath. My eyes froze open. My brows arched. I waited.
By engaging in the act, the eating of the carrot walnut cake, hunched over the table, he had given the thumbs up.
I could only feel triumphant.
"I used 1 teaspoon of cinnamon instead of 1/2." I said.
"Ah. You made it your own." He said with a grin.
I could only laugh at his amusement.
"You make me laugh." I said.
And when he suggested that we bring some over for Sunday supper, my body collapsed in on itself, a full body sigh of relief. Because there can be no greater compliment.