One of the ways I love to initiate my house as a home is to cook.  I didn't know this about myself even two years ago, but once I moved onto Capitol Hill (w/in 115 feet of Kelly), she and I used to cook together no less than twice a month, often more.  Though I deciding to teach myself, she was a great motivation.   She often touted it as a way to add a great deal of warmth and soul to your home.  Once we moved here, I admit that something in me was waiting to make this house a bit more complete...until she and I had  shuffled about the kitchen together.  I love cooking, especially when it's not a chore and when it's for several of the people I love.  This past weekend, we decided to make butternut and goat cheese raviolis and amazing gingerbread/pumpkin cupcakes with citrus frosting.

Yes, I am baking (as in dying of heat) in my home, but that is not my point.  I shall do my best to refrain from complaints regarding my copious glistening and inability to find somewhere to swim.

The other night, the proper saint wandered out of his office in search of a proper snack to accompany his proper Earl Grey.*  He bemoaned the absence of tea biscuits in our cupboard.  Little did he remember that he had made proper mention of said biscuit lack the week before, and I had written, "Make Shortbread" on my domestic "honey-do" list.  

Normally I would refrain from baking during the summer, but this particular night was rather rainy and cold and seemed a perfect time to whip up a batch of something instead of spending the night complaining about being cold while watching some nonsense on the tele.  

So I DID! I made the saint's mother's recipe, which really has the quaintest little story attached to it.  The recipe resides in a little book she made me one year.  She hand wrote many of the family's favorite recipes (one might think that a wise move on a mother-in-law's part, for surely it would decrease the frequency of annoying phone calls...but let's not forget who we are dealing with here.  This is THE SAINT'S MOTHER, so she would just love it if I called frequently) so we could have them at our disposal.  

Directions:

Mix together butter and sugar thoroughly.

So.

Darn.

Tasty.

(No matter the weather!)

*Joel has been reviewing old Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes.  Therefore, whenever he makes a pot of Earl Grey tea (biweekly at the least), he is simply compelled to say, "Earl Grey, hot" in his best Captain Picard accent (biweekly at the VERY least).  What an adorable dork.

I am, of late, consumed with the sights and sounds of home.
What is home?
Yes, it's the people you love, the books you love,
the animals you love,
the things you love.
But something more nags at my soul
(per usual)
to define it more existentially for myself.

Answer:
Muffins help.

For now,
that's enough.

This is a bit of the chocolate cayenne cake I'm preparing....