I won’t lie.
Well, I will, because LIESMITH, but not about this: I’ve been messing with the weather. All the cold, drizmal, popsicle toes days we’ve been having this winter? All my doing. Can you blame me? I’m a Jotun. I like it a bit on the nippy side. And if I get to laugh at the human female bundled up in cozy pants and a wool sweater and two pairs of socks and a blanket so that she looks like a deranged grub, I like it even better.
The human male is the household’s first line of defense against the chill. When the thermometer hits about 40F, he starts making hot spiced cider. He sets up the crockpot and it just simmers for days at a time.
Look–he’s got a new batch going now.
(sniff, sniff) Mmmm.
Apples, nutmeg, cardamom, clove, orange peel, and cinnamon. Lovely. He and the human female and Sigyn–and anyone who comes into the house, really– can fill up a mug or a thermal cup and sip away to their heart’s content. It’s a sure cure for the winter blahs.
And a sure mess on the kitchen counter.
So, yes, we go through a lot of cider and spices around here. See? Here’s a new jar of cinnamon sticks now.
I will contribute to the process by opening the jar. The metal cap’s a little tight.
Very well, the cap’s off. And there’s another cap underneath! What foolishness is this?
And under that cap, a paper seal! By Idunn’s itty bitty apples, this is most frustrating! It is smelly tree bark, people, not the crown jewels of Vanaheim.
And now, dear friends, we see why humans will never rule the galaxy.
Just look. It’ll come to you.