Story for the Day: Of Suet Pie
Suet pie, depending how it's made, is not my favourite thing in the world. Sheamas has an interesting way of disposing of the crusts, but his secretive schemes cannot last forever. M eraliegh’s gift secured and the sun making its gradual descent over the horizon, Sheamas closed the shutters to his shoppe, turned the open sign closed, and locked the door with a happy sigh. He went to the cellar to fetch the coarse salt and brick dust that his wife requested, and while he was there, took a second rack from storage and hung it on the smoking hooks. A pile of fresh sawdust was gathered beneath it, a hot iron was applied, and as the dust began to billow with curls of white smoke, Sheamas took the hinged bell jar from the corner of the cellar and clasped it around the rack. “That’s gonna smoke real nice,” he hummed, remarking his work. “Maybe I oughta make two. Once the Den Asaan sme...