Stillmeadow Cook Book
Winter winds blow against ours windows sharp with cold as nature rests quietly beneath her mantle of white. Shorter grey-veiled days lead into longer, darker nights. Trees stand at attention against the colorless horizon where few birds fly these days having taken wing months ago for warmer climes. This is a dreaming time, a time for restoring and resting. So isn't it natural that our own instincts whisper for us to curl up in our own respective nests and burrows to dream? The dark months of winter used to herald a time for slowing down and resting, a time to spend in quiet contemplation, planning, taking stock of the past year now behind us, and dreaming. The harvest carefully preserved and safely tucked away in the pantry and root cellar would nourish you and the family through until Spring. On my grandparents farm in upstate Massachusetts winter days were spent in the kitchen near the big stove, sitting at the long wooden table while Mom and Grandmother cooke