If you've ever spent the night at our house, and before you sign my leather guest book,  you've doubtless breakfasted on my homemade granola.  It's all part of my nefarious plan to ensure that you've had a splendid stay. And, perhaps  it seems like bragging to say it, but if you've ever eaten it, you've most likely asked me for the recipe.  Actually, it's not really bragging because it was originally my sister Joey's recipe and I make sure to give her full, much deserved credit.  Through the years, it's morphed a little bit from Joey's original recipe, only in that I've gotten much loosey-goosier, and I've been known to tinker with it in all manner of ways.  In fact, I recommend you do the same!  I've played with the oils (olive, peanut and walnut) and nuts(pecans, almonds, pistachios, hazelnut and brazil) and dried fruit (dates, apricots, cranberries) and....well, you get the idea.

A few days ago I decided I needed a little break.  I felt a tightening in my chest and the first inkling that a cold might be brewing.  I made careful preparations for what I expected would be my little “confinement” of several days.  I made a trip to the grocery store to lay-in provisions and prepared a big pot of chili to get us through a few Mom-not-cooking days.   Feeling safe and secure that I’d dealt with all possible contingencies, I took to my cozy bed, resplendent in its fab new microfleece sheets.  A happy hibernation ensued.  I spent a luxurious afternoon of napping interspersed with healthy doses of the Duchess of Devonshire’s delightful new memoirs.    “This is the life,” I thought as I snuggled down, that is, until the next morning when my beloved husband woke me with these terrifying words, “I fear I’ve let you down.”