What’s the common thread amongst these pictures?
Pockets of time which were once filled by something valuable can be filled again with something equally valuable. The energy that was once dedicated to family and children is now spent nurturing my own curiosities and challenges. Sometimes I like to do things just to prove that I can pull it off.
I’ve decided I’d like to get back to the things that make me happy. Cooking and baking, drawing and painting and refinishing furniture make me happy. Turning a house into a home and putting my stamp on it makes me happy. Sharing that home and that food and these projects and discoveries and the love the pours into each of them from me since I’m an emotionally stunted dork…makes me happy. That’s how I say I love you. I realize that just saying those words is far easier and quicker than growing my own herbs and then grinding them and also waiting six weeks for that specific spice to be delivered from exotic locales and creating a five course meal for a dinner party; but that’s how I roll.
I took my grandparents dining room table which was old and battered and brought it new life. I made clafoutis for my husband because he wasn’t sure if he’d like at the French restaurant we went to the other night and more to the point, he didn’t know how to pronounce it. We googled it, found a YouTube clip on French pronunciation and practiced saying it before diving into its custardy goodness. Sweets for the sweet. I made basil, parmesan and cranberry scones at 6AM because I need a reason to get up earlier each morning since I’m becoming a bit of a slug at wake up time; my solution fills the dual solution. Breakfast and a mission.
Metaphor? We’ll see…
Am I turning this into a cooking blog? Maybe, but probably the established circles will tut tut my frequent and skewering use of all the naughty words and lack of patience with proper plating and photographing. My philosophy is, “I worked my tail off to make you this, eat the damn thing.” Maybe this will just document my slices of paradise to share with those who wish to see it? Most likely, yes.
When I was young, I wanted adventure. I wanted excitement and a dashing stranger to take me away from it all. I met a few strangers and frankly, they’re creepy. I’ve always rescued myself and adventure doesn’t have to roar. My family can more than provide excitement and now what I seek is a refuge; whether that be a good meal, a good conversation, a good laugh, a good project, a good friend, a good run or a good book makes no never-mind to me.
My reset button doesn’t occur on January 1st, but in the autumn. I don’t know why this magical recharging of my soul’s batteries occurs to me at this time but it always has.
So in that vain, my batteries are almost fully charged.
Let’s see what happens.