republic. We had the best time.”
“Good memories, Gran.”
“We could have spent the money on a new kitchen. I’m glad we didn’t. I’d rather have the memories.” She pointed her pencil at him. “Except for the mutton.”
“Gran...”
“Hold on. Let me write mutton before I forget.”
He waited. She had the most energy and was most alert in the morning and planned accordingly. Once she finished writing her word in the appropriate spaces, she put her pencil on top of the crossword puzzle on her lap and looked at him expectantly.
“I have to go,” he said. “I have to be at the hospital in a couple of hours.”
“Oh, my goodness. Was there a bus accident or something? Not a shooting, I hope.”
“There’s no mass casualty incident, Gran. It’s normal scheduling issues. I’m sorry I have to run, but I’ll get back here as soon as I can. It’s not far. I’ll call you.”
She narrowed her aged eyes on him. “Do not feel guilty, Logan Farrell. I’m
fine.
”
“Clare Morgan and I got a good start on the house. Her son thinks we should put up a Christmas tree. It would be a nice touch to have a tree lit up in a window. We could even put one up on the porch.”
“Whatever you decide will be perfect.”
He kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re the best, Gran. Call me if you need anything.”
“I think I’ll like taking yoga. I wasn’t sure I would. I was just humoring Audrey Frost. Do you think I’m up for regular classes?”
“What do you think?”
“I suppose it’ll be all right. I can’t imagine they’d have us do headstands.”
He laughed. “Listen to your body and your doctor.”
“And here I am sniffing at ninety.”
Logan left her contemplating her yoga classes and returning to her crossword puzzle.
He hated getting back in his car, but he knew he had to. As he wound his way out of town, he wondered what Clare and her son were doing this morning. Making pancakes? Sleeping late?
When he hit the highway east to Boston, Logan forced them to the back of his mind.
Two and a half hours later, when he walked into the emergency department, he was focused on his job and nothing else.
A Recipe for Oat Waffles
Who doesn’t like waffles on a cold winter morning? Made with traditional rolled oats, these waffles are both hearty and light. Making maple syrup is one of the early signs of spring in New England, but waffles with homemade strawberry or blackberry preserves are also irresistible. There’s nothing like opening a jar of homemade blackberry jam on a cold winter morning. It tastes like summer.
3 tablespoons butter
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1¼ cups water
¾ cup rolled oats
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon baking soda
1½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 to 1¼ cups buttermilk
2 eggs
Combine oats and water in a saucepan and simmer for about 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add butter, stirring until it melts. Sift together remaining dry ingredients and set aside. In a separate bowl, beat lightly together eggs and buttermilk, then stir in oatmeal and butter mixture. Add dry ingredients just until blended.
Preheat waffle iron and use about ¾ cup batter per 8-inch waffle. Makes four. Serve with butter and pure maple syrup or your favorite preserves.
Seven
“You have never seen the like of me before!” exclaimed the Spirit.
—Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
WHEN CLARE ARRIVED at Daisy Farrell’s house, she had mentally arranged the window boxes on the front porch and knew more or less what she wanted to do. She had enlisted Owen’s help snipping boughs from a huge white pine that stood on the corner of the parking lot at Frost Millworks. She planned to use them in the boxes, and she’d found ribbons in her gift-packing materials that she could try out to see what worked best.
As she mounted the porch steps, she admitted to a flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Logan again. Her dreams last night hadn’t
“Good memories, Gran.”
“We could have spent the money on a new kitchen. I’m glad we didn’t. I’d rather have the memories.” She pointed her pencil at him. “Except for the mutton.”
“Gran...”
“Hold on. Let me write mutton before I forget.”
He waited. She had the most energy and was most alert in the morning and planned accordingly. Once she finished writing her word in the appropriate spaces, she put her pencil on top of the crossword puzzle on her lap and looked at him expectantly.
“I have to go,” he said. “I have to be at the hospital in a couple of hours.”
“Oh, my goodness. Was there a bus accident or something? Not a shooting, I hope.”
“There’s no mass casualty incident, Gran. It’s normal scheduling issues. I’m sorry I have to run, but I’ll get back here as soon as I can. It’s not far. I’ll call you.”
She narrowed her aged eyes on him. “Do not feel guilty, Logan Farrell. I’m
fine.
”
“Clare Morgan and I got a good start on the house. Her son thinks we should put up a Christmas tree. It would be a nice touch to have a tree lit up in a window. We could even put one up on the porch.”
“Whatever you decide will be perfect.”
He kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re the best, Gran. Call me if you need anything.”
“I think I’ll like taking yoga. I wasn’t sure I would. I was just humoring Audrey Frost. Do you think I’m up for regular classes?”
“What do you think?”
“I suppose it’ll be all right. I can’t imagine they’d have us do headstands.”
He laughed. “Listen to your body and your doctor.”
“And here I am sniffing at ninety.”
Logan left her contemplating her yoga classes and returning to her crossword puzzle.
He hated getting back in his car, but he knew he had to. As he wound his way out of town, he wondered what Clare and her son were doing this morning. Making pancakes? Sleeping late?
When he hit the highway east to Boston, Logan forced them to the back of his mind.
Two and a half hours later, when he walked into the emergency department, he was focused on his job and nothing else.
A Recipe for Oat Waffles
Who doesn’t like waffles on a cold winter morning? Made with traditional rolled oats, these waffles are both hearty and light. Making maple syrup is one of the early signs of spring in New England, but waffles with homemade strawberry or blackberry preserves are also irresistible. There’s nothing like opening a jar of homemade blackberry jam on a cold winter morning. It tastes like summer.
3 tablespoons butter
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1¼ cups water
¾ cup rolled oats
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon baking soda
1½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 to 1¼ cups buttermilk
2 eggs
Combine oats and water in a saucepan and simmer for about 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add butter, stirring until it melts. Sift together remaining dry ingredients and set aside. In a separate bowl, beat lightly together eggs and buttermilk, then stir in oatmeal and butter mixture. Add dry ingredients just until blended.
Preheat waffle iron and use about ¾ cup batter per 8-inch waffle. Makes four. Serve with butter and pure maple syrup or your favorite preserves.
Seven
“You have never seen the like of me before!” exclaimed the Spirit.
—Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
WHEN CLARE ARRIVED at Daisy Farrell’s house, she had mentally arranged the window boxes on the front porch and knew more or less what she wanted to do. She had enlisted Owen’s help snipping boughs from a huge white pine that stood on the corner of the parking lot at Frost Millworks. She planned to use them in the boxes, and she’d found ribbons in her gift-packing materials that she could try out to see what worked best.
As she mounted the porch steps, she admitted to a flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Logan again. Her dreams last night hadn’t
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