Regarding Clarence...and Social Observation

A hot cocoa morning!

It is the coldest morning of the season. Our thermometer is shivering when it reports a temperature of 6 degrees, with a RealFeel of minus 5.

At this early hour, when it is still dark, nostalgia has a hold of me. One of the few memories I have of my mother (I was 7 when she died on December 19, 1968) was on the coldest days; she’d crutch over to the stovetop and, in a big pot, mix the ingredients for gallons of hot cocoa.

Yes, gallons! There were eleven of us.

I don’t typically drink my calories, but on this frigid morning, coupled with the approach of the holidays, I was thinking of Isabel Shea Ryan and her pot of made-from-scratch cocoa, which was so rich and comforting.

Instead of morning tea, I’m being kept company by an enormous insulated mug of a similar concoction. (I used dates, soy milk, a few unsalted cashews, and cacao powder. Everything was blended and then poured into a pot to simmer my memories to life. In the last few seconds, I stirred in a capful of mint extract.)

Don’t…