Glad the notion of noticing—stepping aside, ideally in the moment, and just observing—has resurfaced this week. And just in the nick of time for our annual turn to host supper group.
Rob was a bit strung out (it happens when one’s body is under siege), so less helpful than usual…giving me a chance to watch my friends step in. Wow!
Last to leave were Ed and Laurie. Among other things, they had contributed homegrown pickled beets for our Salad Niçoise. Before leaving, we four gathered in the kitchen with the peeled yet lumpy hard-boiled eggs, the ones that hadn’t made the cut for the salad platter. Ed explained how to dunk these eggs in the remaining pickling brine, then to expect a brilliant surprise the next day.
OK, I’ve been watching for visits from my recently-deceased mother. This was one. I remembered her mother, Lola, my grandmother, creating these purple delights. In the very light of day and friendship, I grinned back, as we plopped the eggs in for an overnight bath.
Always Bridging 