Pies, illness, and conferences

I've just recovered from a long illness. It was either a delightfully light case of COVID, or a proper case of the flu. The doctor thinks it was the latter, but either way I am left wondering how I managed to catch something after suspending all contact with humans (except rare groceries trips) for four weeks. I am feeling better now, and congratulating myself that I had stocked the freezer with so many ready-to-microwave meals. I have more meals left, in case COVID is yet to come.

I missed over a week of work, but my workplace has been amazing throughout this whole stay-at-home thing. They closed down before most other companies, gave us a stipend to buy work-from-home supplies, communicate extremely frequently about how decisions are being made, and have given us two bonus days off as mental health days. They also made the news twice. The first time, they cancelled our largest conference hours before it was supposed to start, in early March. This caused great consternation in the community and I heard a lot of criticism for exactly a week, until the rest of the world imploded and they simply looked prescient. They then ran our next big conference virtually, arranging it in less than two weeks, and it went really well. I am sad that I was too sick to attend any of it.

Part of my freezer stocking this week is making savory pies. (This is the sort of inspiration you get from reading lots of British mysteries that feature meat pies, tea, and sherry.) I was reminded of my friends in graduate school, who would get together for "filled food parties," producing delicious but labor-intensive food like Chinese dumplings, German Maustaschen, or gnocchi. Generally the output was amazing, but once we attempted Cornish pasties and the dry, sawdust-like lumps we produced haunt me to this day.

I have fonder memories of the savory pies I ate in Australia and the UK, and I set out to make mushroom, spinach, and cheddar pies. Somehow I ended up choose a more open-faced recipe with an all-butter crust so it's certainly not the same as a meat pie that you'd eat at the footy. They were fiddly to make and didn't photograph well, but are buttery and delicious and make me glad I'm well enough to cook again.

Spring

My very good friend M has been quarantined in one room of her house all week, separated from her spouse and kid. I knew she'd be missing getting outside, so I sent her a picture or video from my morning walk each day. If you are quarantined, or just stuck in a state that is still experiencing winter, here's a taste of spring for you.

Violets grow wild in my yard. If you pick enough of them, you can discern that they actually have a lovely scent; it is not just something invented for soaps that Victorian ladies used.

These are my possibly-not-quite-legal pink tulips. They were a gift from my brother's family while they were traveling in the Netherlands, and I didn't remember that I was supposed to declare them when I brought them into the country.

Pansies and tulips. Last year's extra work in establishing a perennial cottage garden has really paid off. Almost everything is already coming up, and I seemed to have planned well to have bits of color even this early in the year. Experienced gardeners will know that pansies are not actually perennials, but they can live (and bloom) through entire DC winter, so I planted them anyway.