By Mary Anna Violi | @Mary Anna Violi
After battling two vile flues, one in January and one in February, and extensive dental surgery, I was looking forward to a celebratory Valentine’s Day with my daughter. Yes, the weather had been getting gradually colder. Yes, the forecast predicted more snow, but how much do we believe the meteorologists say since they are often wrong, at least the local ones are. My mantra to Anjelica was, “Stick to the plan!” The plan entailed dining at our favorite Mediterranean bistro in her college town, shopping at our preferred downtown boutiques, and having a decadent champagne cupcake and macaroon while we opened each other’s Valentines.
Well, Winter Storm Neptune 2015 knocked the wind of our sails. The nautical metaphor seems appropriate to refer to a snowstorm named after Neptune, the God of the Sea, according to the Romans. I would like to fling a fake flounder at this snowstorm [This an alliteration kind of day]. Yet I feel certain those blizzard weary-New Englanders might share my sentiments. Now the county police have told us to stay off the roads unless of an emergency. Road crews have ceased trying to plow the snow due to white out conditions. I keep telling myself it could be worse right now: I could live in Boston this winter.
To assuage my thwarted Valentine’s Day, I decided to bake a box mix strawberry cake. At least the cake would be pink and satisfy my sudden sweet urge. While talking on the phone, I assembled and mixed the cake. Thirty minutes later, I removed the cake from the oven. “Hmm,” I said to Fellini and Coco Chanel, our indoor cats, “something is amiss with this cake.” Glancing at the counter, I saw three eggs. “Egad!” I cried. “I forgot to mix in the eggs!” This error offered me several lessons: First, do not attempt to multitask by conversing on the phone while baking; next, review the list of ingredients to circumvent the omission of critical ones, like eggs; and finally, I contrived to convince myself without the eggs it was a sort of pseudo-strawberry vegan cake that did not taste too terrible.
At least the flowers I sent Anjelica arrived yesterday, and she is with pleased with them. Her cat, Shelton Rae, is content as only a cat can be: He has been using the flowerbox as a bed. The pretty Valentine card with the heartfelt note Anjelica sent me made me glow with happiness. She is able to dine on the pink champagne cupcake and macaroons today, while I eat my not fully developed strawberry cake. Although I miss her delightful company on this frosty, wind-howling, subzero Valentine’s Day, I take heart in the fact that we have agreed to celebrate next weekend. Celebrate we will, assuming another blasted snowstorm leaves us in peace.
I have begun exploring real estate in warmer regions of the country.
Ciao for now.