![\"IMG_8543\"](\"https:\/\/annakovel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/IMG_8543-1.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nThe toaster oven beeps. I drizzle a healthy amount of the most delectable olive oil<\/a>\u00a0(the one I reserve for special moments) on top of my toast, and impatiently take a bite before I put it on a plate with some cucumber slices. I sit, looking at my\u00a0lunch\u00a0and thinking about it for a few moments. Do I even like goat cheese warm and melty? I always think I will, but then when I eat it I think the texture is off-putting, a tiny\u00a0bit slimy, in a state of pseudo-melt. And I usually don\u2019t like chevre added to an omelette or other egg dishes, because I think it\u2019s overpowering. But here, today, it\u2019s perfectly fine, a creamy match for the extra crunch of the now-resuscitated baguette, and that whiff of thyme\u2026<\/p>\n Then I\u2019ll eat. And read a page of a magazine. At some point (pretty soon) I\u2019ll feel guilty about spending too much time sitting here eating and reading, and not enough time writing- so I\u2019ll stand\u00a0up\u00a0and put my plate in the sink. Time to start thinking about dinner.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" So here I am, in self-imposed exile, trying to write my story. \u00a0I’m alone in a warm house,\u00a0it\u2019s very, very quiet. The snow outside the windows looks like it\u2019s beginning to melt. I don\u2019t go out much, and I don\u2019t … Continue reading <\/a><\/p>\n