Day 30- Election Day

All day the blossom has blown past the window, restless on the breeze, unseasonal snow.

Today what we can rely on, what we can be sure of, is that there will be a change. Tomorrow we will wake up and even though the glinting gold fields will still be there and the birds will still rise up from the road just before they are run over and my kitchen will still be the same shade of aubergine, something will have changed. There will be a new tilt to the landscape, whether we like it or not.

After washing up the plates from dinner and two breakfasts, I start over again. I make a ragu, a hearty slow cooked sauce that will welcome us home tomorrow, when we will know. The house fills with its smell, brown and familiar, and on the eve of change, I welcome the reassurance of this recipe, known in my bones, never failing to warm my heart.