The sky was overcast, the flowers wilted and faded, and store-bought pastry dough was much obliged to cover for homemade. I’m not really sure what took place inside my no-frills countertop oven, but in the time the galette baked, the sun showed up for what must have been a blink, and I could have sworn I saw him stealing a bite. (posted 08.2023)
I was in the middle of editing this site over the weekend, when out from my files appeared this deliciousness giggling out loud. I would have baked you a galette, but I have armfuls of plums and hydrangeas…
…oh, summer…
The mountains skipped like rams,
The little hills like lambs.
Psalm 114:4
Горы прыгали, как овны,
и холмы, как агнцы.
Псалтирь 114:4
