I’m taking a break from working on my statement of purpose letter for grad school apps and thinking about making fudge. I have these peppermint bark chips that I’m going to put in it and maybe sprinkle on the top (I have a dream of this coming out super beautiful and Christmasy, but it might instead be more of a blobby mass in a pan with peppermint chunks sticking out of it). Part of me wants to savor the idea of making the fudge, and part of me just wants to make it. After all, I’ve been savoring this idea since I got the stuff to make it last weekend, and after a while savoring loses its appeal if you feel like you’ll never actually do the thing. Or at least it does to me.

But anyway. One time I was in line at the store, and I was probably buying fudge supplies, and the cashier started telling me about her family’s tradition where they can’t make fudge until after the first snowfall. !!!! And I thought, “Wow, what a wonderful, magical tradition!” Can you imagine all the joy of wanting to make fudge but having to wait until it snowed? And then it snows and you’re stuck inside making warm nummy fudge and you feel SUPER festive because you didn’t make the fudge until it was for sure winter outside and because having to wait like that is kind of like waiting for Christmas to open your presents, and I imagine it makes the fudge that much more fun to make and it probably tastes better, too, since it’s full of anticipation.

But I can’t actually imagine having to wait until it snowed, because sometimes it doesn’t snow here until after Christmas, and sometimes it doesn’t snow at all. I don’t know if I have that kind of patience, especially without it being a tradition I was brought up with that I’d share with other people. But it doesn’t really matter because now every year when it starts to get cold and when I want to make fudge, I think of that lady and her family’s tradition and how awesome it must feel every year when it finally snows and they can make fudge. And that is enough magical fun time for me. (Imagining other people having to wait for treats is my idea of a good time, oh yeah.) (Also, you might think from this post that I’m obsessed with making fudge or something, but I’m really not. I like thinking about making it more than I actually like cooking it, and eating it gets old, especially if it turns out no one else wants any and you’re stuck with a giant pan full of rich candy that you can’t possibly eat before it gets all dry and gross, even though you cover it meticulously.)

So anyway, that is my story of winter noms as I sit here not working on my SOP. And of course now I’m thinking about how super magical it would be if it was snowing outside and I could see the snowflakes coming down on my balcony and the fireplace was lit and I was cooking up noms, and I think cooking up noms right now doesn’t compare. But on the other hand, working on all the things I need to get done might require chocolate. Mixed with marshmallow creme and heated on the stove and then covered in peppermint bark.