This is how Sunday afternoons should be: reading a fascinating story about Alaska from American Nature Writing, 2001, during a light lunch after church, critters asleep on the living room floor, my husband asleep on the couch, me clacking away on the WordPress editor.
I just put a couple of loaves of banana bread into the oven. Soon, the house will fill with the smell of bananas rescued and resurrected, and we’ll enjoy tea (the drink) and bread in a midday snack the Scots and Kiwis sometimes call “tea.”
The recipe originated from an agricultural Twitter acquaintance, who posted it on her blog six years ago. It was the deep of winter, one I was spending with my parents. We had some bananas going bad around the time she shared the recipe, so I whipped it up to see how it tasted.
It was the best banana bread I’d ever eaten.
I carried that recipe with me around the world and created a magical banana cake in Milford Sound, New Zealand. I’ve never been able to recreate that magic since.
But I’m trying today.
It’s 7 degrees F outside right now, and the snow lies gently over the grass, allowing some blades to peek through. We stay warm, especially when the cats curl up next to our heads.
I’ve been reading a lot lately, learning more about the craft of nature writing through the aforementioned book, venturing into the dark stories of H.P. Lovecraft, and supporting a local author in her triumphs of reaching the New York Times bestseller list with her book Serpent and Dove.
This too, is how winter should be: filled with books and baking and tea.
And when you can do all of these on a restful winter Sunday afternoon, then all the better.
Stay warm, dear reader.