Boy, spousal fodder for these bloggy fires is easy to find these days.
So tonight we made eggnog, in anticipation of our housewarming later in December. We strained the liquored nog into its ceramic jug to avoid adding the chalazae (those little white things that connect the egg yolks to their whites, and, technically, an umbilical cord for fertilized eggs). “Look,” said he with the strainer, “baby chickens!”
There’s nothing like a husband to remind you where your food comes from. And I thank mine for that.