Our family packed up yesterday morning and headed up to our Michigan home. It was lovely drive filled with vibrant conversations, music and talk radio. Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh helped us digest bailout woes, naughty Chicago politics and the potential outcome of the Steeler – Raven game (not that I care about the latter).

All the while I planned my menu for our soiree Saturday night. I was delighted to see the results of heavy snowfall as we inched north. Winter parties are best blanketed in billows of snow.

Our arrival home was full of adventure. My husband, much to his delight, had to plow our drive with his beloved New Holland tractor just so that we could drive into our garage.


The house was uncomfortably chilly. We set our thermostat at 48°; thus, it takes several hours of brilliant fires and savory cooking to break the chill. Cooking and baking were only punctuated by a quick cross-country ski adventure and a few photo ops.



I utilized my wok to saute vegetables.

I threw in the remaining Cilantro chicken from a previous night’s dinner, together with tortillas, cheese and salsa.

Then we enjoyed delicious quesadillas, fresh fruit, and a glass of Charonnay.

I relish the constancy of life up here: the rythmn of nature, the fellowship with friends, inviting fires, and the township’s snow plow that never fails to flatten our mailbox.







