Yesterday, to my great relief, I finished the giant editing project I've been focused on for the past couple of months. My deadline is Friday; and with the onslaught of work and household-emergency distractions during these past few weeks, I've been increasingly fearful of running late. However, I did manage to get the job done in time after all, so today I'll write up my editing notes and ship the files out, and then I will be on holiday hours . . . sort of.  I've still got two zoom meetings this week and a bunch of paperwork chores to slog through, plus my usual housework demands. But I'm beginning to glimpse an airier future.

Another good thing is that my incipient head cold seems to be fading away. I have been tired (I almost fell asleep at the movie last night), but in a cozy, hibernating sort of way rather than an exhausted one. I'm looking ahead--a month off from teaching, a few weeks off from editing: none of this is at all good for our bank account, but I can't regret the gap. It's been a long time since I've had any plain days to myself.

Last night, for dinner, I made a polpettone--a rolled Italian meatloaf--with venison (from my friend Steve's deer) and mutton (from his daughter Amber's sheep farm . . . and don't be distracted by the English-novel connotations of mutton: this is as tender and mild as the best-quality lamb). I stuffed it with garden kale, foraged maitakes, local onions, garden pesto, and parmesan. On the side: buttered yellow and purple potatoes (local) with garden dill as well as roasted garden green beans tossed with store lettuce. It was a beautiful mid-December meal, a happiness of freezer riches and sturdy winter produce; quintessentially north country, with a dream Mediterranean behind it; food as a complex swirl of making-do and making-up.