Gotta take the bitter with the sweet.
Seems like I heard that somewhere, sometime.
So today I had some news confirmed that I kind of suspected. Not really happy news.
This evening at nightfall, I felt like crawling into bed with my book.
Somehow or another some little piece of me walked to the bakery, put my shoes on, grabbed the leash and Blackie and headed out for a walk around the loop. I didn't know I needed to sob until I reached the section where there is no one. Then the sobs bubbled. No, erupted.
I find it interesting that in so many moments of my life the bitter and the sweet are intertwined.
The other day Rose informed me she had picked out a meal from the most recent issue of Cooking Light. I got her a subscription to that mag. last Christmas. I have a few issues with Cooking Light. They are great at cutting fat, but still use tons of white flour, sugar, etc. But that is another blog post! Nevertheless, they offer plenty of pretty food photos, and accessible recipes that are easily adapted to our diet.
Rose, who is 12, handed me a shopping list after church today. She offered to make the meal for our early supper. I grabbed backback, hopped on bike and rode to the supermarket to pick up the few necessary items.
After getting back home, I took a break and Rose hit the kitchen.
Tantalizing smells wafted into my bedroom. Chicken Thighs with Dijon-Thyme Sauce. Roasted potatoes. Garlicky green beans. A friend of Patrick's came to join. We pulled out the fancy plates, put Bach on Pandora, sliced the fresh bread and feasted. Wow.
When my children serve me by fixing food it blesses me richly. The meal was fantastic. Really. We were all impressed. It took me back to Madison, New Jersey. Was it 9 years ago? More? Sixteen year old Holly was coming over for cooking lessons in our teeny tiny galley kitchen. Rose would climb up on the stool, elbowing Holly out of the way, irritated that someone was taking her place beside me in the kitchen. Now Holly has completed culinary school after getting her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, works at an impressive restaurant, is a thousand times better cook than me, and Rose is making us meals. And just finished cleaning up the kitchen.
I know, I am not mentioning all the many, many times Maggie covers for me in the kitchen. And Patrick. And Thomas in the past. They are all truly amazing. But tonight it was Rose, and I feel like I must mention the moment. And not only did we have a delicious, well-balanced dinner, but she also made dessert!!! Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla IceCream (THE best icecream in the country) parfaits with a cooked raspberry-orange sauce, fresh raspberries and shaved chocolate.
Oh. My. Goodness.
So the sweet tempered the salty, and a walk allowed me time to reflect, cry, ask WHY? and then count my blessings.
The moon is just over halfway full. The stars were barely visible with the moonlight and townlight. The smell of the billy goat in the yard of the Radio Station made me laugh. There is a crew of goats in the radio station yard. Only in Alpine! Blackie and I walked in near isolation, as the smell of laundry drying in the dryers reminded me that tomorrow we are back to work and back to school.
Fall is here.
Seems like I heard that somewhere, sometime.
So today I had some news confirmed that I kind of suspected. Not really happy news.
This evening at nightfall, I felt like crawling into bed with my book.
Somehow or another some little piece of me walked to the bakery, put my shoes on, grabbed the leash and Blackie and headed out for a walk around the loop. I didn't know I needed to sob until I reached the section where there is no one. Then the sobs bubbled. No, erupted.
I find it interesting that in so many moments of my life the bitter and the sweet are intertwined.
The other day Rose informed me she had picked out a meal from the most recent issue of Cooking Light. I got her a subscription to that mag. last Christmas. I have a few issues with Cooking Light. They are great at cutting fat, but still use tons of white flour, sugar, etc. But that is another blog post! Nevertheless, they offer plenty of pretty food photos, and accessible recipes that are easily adapted to our diet.
Rose, who is 12, handed me a shopping list after church today. She offered to make the meal for our early supper. I grabbed backback, hopped on bike and rode to the supermarket to pick up the few necessary items.
After getting back home, I took a break and Rose hit the kitchen.
Tantalizing smells wafted into my bedroom. Chicken Thighs with Dijon-Thyme Sauce. Roasted potatoes. Garlicky green beans. A friend of Patrick's came to join. We pulled out the fancy plates, put Bach on Pandora, sliced the fresh bread and feasted. Wow.
When my children serve me by fixing food it blesses me richly. The meal was fantastic. Really. We were all impressed. It took me back to Madison, New Jersey. Was it 9 years ago? More? Sixteen year old Holly was coming over for cooking lessons in our teeny tiny galley kitchen. Rose would climb up on the stool, elbowing Holly out of the way, irritated that someone was taking her place beside me in the kitchen. Now Holly has completed culinary school after getting her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, works at an impressive restaurant, is a thousand times better cook than me, and Rose is making us meals. And just finished cleaning up the kitchen.
I know, I am not mentioning all the many, many times Maggie covers for me in the kitchen. And Patrick. And Thomas in the past. They are all truly amazing. But tonight it was Rose, and I feel like I must mention the moment. And not only did we have a delicious, well-balanced dinner, but she also made dessert!!! Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla IceCream (THE best icecream in the country) parfaits with a cooked raspberry-orange sauce, fresh raspberries and shaved chocolate.
Oh. My. Goodness.
So the sweet tempered the salty, and a walk allowed me time to reflect, cry, ask WHY? and then count my blessings.
The moon is just over halfway full. The stars were barely visible with the moonlight and townlight. The smell of the billy goat in the yard of the Radio Station made me laugh. There is a crew of goats in the radio station yard. Only in Alpine! Blackie and I walked in near isolation, as the smell of laundry drying in the dryers reminded me that tomorrow we are back to work and back to school.
Fall is here.
3 comments:
I am so glad you are writing again. Good and bad, perfect and not. I'm so sorry it is not easy.
Hi Anita! Thanks for the comment. Hope you and hubby and farm are well!
This made me smile, but you are mistaken, Ginger! I'm not a better cook, we are completely different kinds of cooks. I'm mired in the drudgery of professional cooking with the occassional highlight. You were my original inspiration! I still cook your dishes and give credit where it is due. I'll always be your loving sous chef. <3
Post a Comment