Good morning. It’s Presidents’ Day and, for a few of us, that truth comes simply in time, after weeks of February grimness, all the time heading off to work in the dead of night, heading residence in the identical, going to the shop, cooking and consuming and cleansing and strolling the canine, then pitchpoling into mattress solely to discover the home cautiously a couple of hours later, questioning: Which one in every of us is sick at the moment?
I hope you’re studying this letter below the covers, or curled up on a sofa, or standing within the kitchen ready for the inventory to simmer (so you can also make pho) or the oven to warmth (so you possibly can bake a cake).
I hope you’ll take time at the moment to prepare dinner one thing, anyway, to make meals as protest in opposition to the climate, the darkness, the flu, to prepare dinner in opposition to the countless delays on the practice, the bus, the expressway, to stand up in opposition to February itself.
Or you could possibly fireplace up the broiler, faux it’s a grill, make some barbecued chicken, cornbread flecked with corn, a bit of coleslaw, some potato salad and frozen fudge pops for dessert, make prefer it’s August already, and also you’re corny as Kansas.