Two loaves of Irish Soda Bread are baking in the oven emanating a buttery temptation as the scent of baking bread rises on this rather gloomy St. Patrick’s Day. These two loaves will follow me out the door and down the roads I often traverse. When I return home, two more will go into the oven; one for my tall, Irish lad and the other for a neighbor.
We had a traditional Irish dinner of corned beef and cabbage the other night when our Up North family was in and our hereabouts daughter and son-in-law could join us. Tonight – ah, tonight, I will make corned beef hash from the tasty leftovers.
I will be back writing soon, but, until then . . .
“May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night and a smooth road all the way to your door.”