A Little Soup and a Warm Heart

It seems that life keeps me away from the keyboard rather a lot just now and I hardly know where to start when I sit here with a few spare minutes to fill.

Winter has crept up with such stealth that I find myself almost scarf-less against it's frosty fingers. Finley leaves the house each day with a small steel flask warming his rucksack, a lunchtime buffer of vegetable soup made with rich chicken stock and fresh bay leaves snatched from the tree outside the door. When I uncork the stopper each evening with my sudsy hands, I find it empty, a job well done, a full belly, a little engine running  smoothly through the afternoon.

I made some cupcakes for Go Ahead Honey - liquorice and ginger with a creamy chocolate frosting. We sat at the table and ate them gratefully, teasing out the last gingery crumbs with our tongues, licking chocolaty fingers, wishing the cakes had lasted just a little longer. It was evening and I forgot to take any photos, so I planned to make them again in a week or so. I tweaked the recipe some the second time and they turned out okay, but nothing on the previous batch, my tweaking had been in vain.

Nick just smiled indulgently and told me to trust my instincts, because they were never wrong. And I held his hand for a long time because his fingers feel like home.

I'll make them again soon and share them with you.