January Moments
As February gets underway, I find myself reflecting on some of the events and moments that filled January 2024. First and literally on the radar for much of the country was conversations about how much it would snow this winter and what winter conditions would look like. For much of the country from the High Plains, Midwest, East Coast and as far south as Texas, severe weather arrived like General Winter during Napoleon’s siege of Moscow. Cities, towns and rural regions alike endured deep snow, deadly ice, powerful winds, frozen pipes, dangerous conditions on roads and cancellations at airports as a mass of frigid Arctic air reached down and held a wide swath of the country in its icy grip.
Nevada City and Grass Valley where Kit and I live in the Sierra Foothills experienced only one measurable snowfall early in the month that was quickly plowed, sanded and forgotten. Instead of snow, January in California was a month of persistent rain events, mild temperatures that turned moist air into dense fog, winds that showered drivers with pine needles as they drove up and down foothill roads, and constant cloud cover. Because Californians are always grateful for rain and snow during the winter months, no one complained. And though I was not thrilled having to drive home from visits with Kit at the Lodge on rainy nights when fog was pea soup thick, I was grateful it was rain and not snow and ice that I had to contend with.
The clearest day of the month was January 26. It was a crisp blue sky winter day dotted with only a few fluffy clouds. Sunset was followed by a howling full “wolf” moon that filled the night with glorious light. That night I was downtown with two friends at the historic Nevada Theater for a showing of “Journey from Zanskar: a monk’s vow to children”—a documentary filmed in Tibet. It was as though the visiting Tibetan Buddhist monks who were present that night had chanted prayers for sunshine, love, light, and a moon bright enough to light our way home when the film was over. The film was moving and the night was over the moon memorable.
Through January’s long gray weeks, I filled the hour before dawn and my evenings after arriving home from visiting Kit with reading, turning to books that kept me company at the end of our couch. Writer May Sarton spoke to me every day from the pages of her “Journal: The House by the Sea.” In one of her journal entries, I learned about her illustrated book “The Fur Person.” After reading it, I ordered copies for three friends who share my lifelong love of cats. It is a tale Sarton wrote decades ago about a homeless yellow tabby cat named Tom Jones who finally gave up his Cat About Town ways and chose to move in with the writer and her longtime friend Judy.
Anyone who knows and loves cats understands that people don’t pick cats. They pick you. Presently without a cat, I know that one day soon a homeless cat will wander up our driveway, look in the front window, and decide to move in with me. I have cans of Italian tuna along with Latvian sardines at the ready for when that moment comes.
I’m also reading aloud to Kit from “Amarcord”—a memoir by Marcella Hazan of growing up in Italy in the years before, during and after WWII and her journey in the early 1950s to America where she taught science before writing cookbooks that taught Americans how to prepare Italian food. Inspired by Hazan’s story, I found myself perusing my cookbooks for recipes to write about, cook up, and share with neighbors.
On a recent trip to our local Grocery Outlet, I discovered red tins Riga Gold Fried Brisling Sardines in Tomato Sauce imported from Latvia. I’d just read a recipe on the New York Times Cooking website for pasta with sardines in a tomato sauce. Wild caught and priced at only $1.99/ 8.47 oz tin, I bought three—one for me to try on spaghetti noodles and the others to share with two local Italian American friends. I also gave each of them a copy of “Feast of the Seven Fishes: A Christmas Eve Tradition” by Richard Pedrolini Moreau. I’m hoping they will try the fish recipes in this little gem of a cookbook and talk about the role eel played in their own Italian American Christmas Eve family feasts.
Locally, trees are showing the early stages of future leaves. Lenten roses (Hellebores) are covered with winter blooms.in our raised flower bed and I discovered a camelia bush in bloom at the Lodge while taking Kit on a walk around the grounds last week. Rose bushes are already for sale at the same market where I found the sardines. Way early, me thinks. But as May Sarton reminded me in her journal from Maine, February is the ideal time to fertilize azaleas and rhododendron.
Wintry weather will likely get more challenging soon. When snow and ice finally come knocking, it will be time for more good food and warmth, books and evenings by the fire. And of course, on February 11th, we’ll be watching the Chiefs vs. the 49ers Superbowl rematch. Kit has suited up and is ready?