Thanksgiving has just passed and December is already here. I had intended to start writing well before then. I have pictures of apples from a visit to an orchard and I came across the beginning of an entry about flank steak I jotted down in a notebook from way back in September. Sometimes little hiccups happen, excuses are made, and things become put off. Here I am, finally, on a random Saturday nearing the end of the year and I am typing. I suppose with the new year approaching comes a sort of inevitable drive and momentum as everyone is listing their resolutions. I am both excited and anxious, but determined to write. What way to better stick to something than write about what you love?