I made butter earlier this month. Made butter!
I lucked into a tall glass bottle of free Dutchman Dairy whipping cream. I also got one for a good friend who likes it in her coffee, tea, breakfast and dessert. I don’t like it quite that much. It’s nice to top off a dinner party, and for fancy recipes, but in the middle of a week, especially when I’ve been making these scones on the weekends, there’s nothing quite so nice as free butter.
All these years, I’ve whipped cream cautiously, with warnings about it turning into butter at one whip too many hovering over my shoulder. Not so. It takes a lot of whipping before it starts to separate. Oooh but when it does! Something about making my own butter at home is deeply thrilling. I get excited about butter.
I’ve been enjoying making these felt birds, and spending way too much time on the internet.
I love when the dishes are clean and the counters wiped, and the horizontal wooden surface of the table is cleared.
I’m still delighted with the tiny white-bellied squirrel outside the window, and all our funny pets inside.
I am so grateful to the sweet team of ladies at work who brought me groceries.
And, I’m a little excited to have one more week of relaxed convalescence, and then my bank account and I are very excited about going back to work the week after that. In the meantime, I’ll be in search of the smallest, simplest and least expensive pleasures, with butter.