Yesterday for our Imbolc feast, I concocted an Irish-inspired stew in our slow cooker… But at about 7:30, the potatoes were still hard and I was hungry and getting low-blood sugar grumpy. We threw in the towel and heated up a frozen pizza. The stew went into the fridge, hard potatoes and all.
Well, today we have no gas (so no heaters or stove) and no water. There’s a layer of hard-frozen frost on the inside of our windows. Happily, we have power, so out came the stew. It’s now simmering happily in our 52-degree kitchen.
A little while ago, my fiancé came into the bedroom, where I’m working in bed with my heating pad, and said, “You know, I don’t normally believe in your gods and goddesses, but I think Brigid may have nudged us into messing up the stew yesterday so that we’d have something hot to eat today.”
I’m not sure which is the miracle… the leftover stew or my fiancé saying that. Either way, I’ll take what I can get. 🙂