If there's any day when it would be suitable for me to write a thoughtful, retrospective blog, today is that day. Apart from my mom being home for fifteen minutes this morning--which, for the sake of this blog, let's say didn't happen--I was completely alone, all day.
In a way, this solitude was amazing and free but it was also lonely. A pot of tea gets cold really quickly if there's only one person drinking it and my witty commentary during Harry Potter 7.1 seems really pathetic when The Cat is the only one there to listen.
Reflection seems utterly inevitable at this point. As I was walking down the street, blinded by the sun, to the grocery store--which was closed, because it was 7 o'clock on a Sunday in My Quaint Town*--I couldn't help thinking about how distant I was. Even after venturing outside, everyone I passed was still behind a wall. It was weird, like I was so detached and just far away from it all that I'd forgotten that there were people out there with their own lives and problems and complexities. Hanging out with yourself does weird things to your mind.
When I got home, I made French onion soup because I've been fantasizing about it for the past two weeks. The last time I made this particular dish, I left the onions on the stove for twenty five minutes, thus melding them to the pot in a burnt mess. The time before that, I added white wine vinegar instead of cooking wine and, though I'm definitely a salt and vinegar fan, the effect was less than desirable. Needless to say, I haven't had a perfect bowl of French onion soup in a while.
But I did tonight. I triple checked the recipe, I memorized the instructions and I did it all. So delicious. But it got me thinking, is the soup French or are the onions? Probably the soup.
'Twas a good day.
p.s. Rena: I don't know if you follow hockey at all, but it seems that our cities' teams are facing each other. Playing each other? Competing with each other? I'm not a hockey person so I'm not down with the terminology. Anyway, I hope the rivalry doesn't ruin our relationship.
*which, because internet safety been drilled into me relentlessly, will remain ambiguous.
1 comment:
Nah, we're still cool. :) Also, coming from someone whose technical word for this sort of thing is "versing" (actually a word, but in reference to poetry...), I daresay it doesn't matter.
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