“I’m freeeezing!” I muttered, as he walked through the room. He eyed my fuzzy socks and then perused my form, swaddled in the thickest, fuzziest blanket I own.
He didn’t say a word.
He dutifully checked the windows, waved his hands around the woodwork to ensure his spray foam insulation was doing its job in the cracks and crevices. He made sure the rolled up towel was tightly pressed against the bottom of the old front door. Then he checked the thermostat … and didn’t offer his findings.
I already knew. It read 66 degrees. And no matter how brightly the outdoor wood furnace glows, when it’s below 15 degrees outside, it’s impossible to keep the temperature of this beloved, creaky, windbag of a house in my specified comfort zone.
Again, not a word. It would have been pointless. Instead, he offered the only comfort he could.
And it was very, very sweet.
FarmGuy made hot cocoa. With whipped cream. And a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. It wasn’t Swiss Miss, either. I could taste the difference right away. He said it was a concoction of milk, melted chocolate chips, vanilla, and a shot of bourbon.
Really?
“Really,” he said.
Isn’t he somethin’ ?
*******************
P.S. Those cocoa shots were taken with my 50mm Nikkor lens. I’m experimenting — what do you think? Lots to learn, but it’s really, really cool!
Photos are almost as great as Farmguy!! Start looking for a freelance food photography job!! And Happy New Year!
Photos are fantastic Jennifer!
When Farmguy is done over there, send him here. I’ll take Irish Cream in mine.
66? Girl, you are a Pioneer. I whine when it’s 68 in here!
Happy New Year!
Ahhh he’s such a nice guy!!!!
Heya…my very first comment on your site.
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