What a beautiful indulgent Sunday! It is cooler and crisper than it has been in weeks, the oppressive humidity dissipated to who knows where. The light morning lends a sharpness to my recently coiffed impatients and geraniums, the breeze brings wafts of jasmine with it. It is 10oC cooler outside than in, a flip flop over the past few days, and I must be out and enjoy it. How fortunate that I have started a new/old book, Garlic and Sapphires, lent to me this past week by a friend who knows me well.
Recently I have been lent books by friends who have said, ‘I thought you’d enjoy this’ and I realized how well they knew me. Those are the books I have most enjoyed reading this summer. In addition to Sapphires and Garlic by there’s also been Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen. All different one from the other, but all stories that have pulled me in and appealed to different facets of who I am. Thank goodness for friends that think of me when they read!
So I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my book, retrieved my glasses and took to my reading lounger on the porch, saying to myself ‘OK Amy, you get an hour, until it gets too hot, and then you must get back to finishing the report on your project they’ll be expecting next week.’ Well, after an hour and the first cup of coffee, I forced myself to break from the adventures of Ruth Reichl, the New York Times restaurant critic who entertains with her beguiling tales of disguises and delectables in the Manhattan restaurant scene. A pang of hunger finally hit me, after no supper last night and all these mouth watering food descriptions. I wondered how it had taken so long, actually. ‘OK Amy,’ I said to myself, ‘make yourself a Sunday breakfast, enjoy the next chapter and a bit more of the breeze as accompaniments and then hit the computer.’
Scrambled eggs, yesterday’s “rustic loaf” toasted with apricot jam, and fruit salad with a splash of amaretto to compliment the odd mix of everything fresh I had on hand: pineapple, peach, melon, apple, pear and grapes off our vine – an odd but refreshing combination, perfect for a peaceful Sunday morning. While finishing the last of the 2nd cup of coffee, I started another chapter.
This woman and her antics, and mostly her beautiful writing, just sucked me in. I didn’t want to put her down. I wanted to be her, to be able to eat 4, 5 or 6 times at the best restaurants not worrying about the cost. I wanted to know food and have the culinary experience and ability to decipher even the most obscure ingredients: squid ink, chocolate in a burgundy sauce, something sweet turning out to be pineapple juice in a Japanese soup. I wanted to be able to disguise myself into someone unrecognizable and then take on a whole new persona to discover parts if me I didn’t even know (or was afraid to know) existed. I haven’t fantasized about being a character in a novel for decades. I am charmed.
Third cup of coffee (only a half – I never have more than two) and I pass the halfway mark of the book. The humidity is still low, the breeze coming around the corner from the patio to my spot on the porch is still fresh and cool, the bees humming in the jasmine are a comforting background noise, so much better than the racket of the lotus’, whose buzzing has been like an non-stop chain saw this past week.
So now I’m on apple juice and sharing my Sunday bliss for a later posting on my blog, and I argue to myself ‘Well Amy, if the report has waited all July to get finished, another Sunday won;t make that much of a difference.’
An evening glass of wine and now I’ve finished the book. What a beautiful indulgent Sunday.
Recently I have been lent books by friends who have said, ‘I thought you’d enjoy this’ and I realized how well they knew me. Those are the books I have most enjoyed reading this summer. In addition to Sapphires and Garlic by there’s also been Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen. All different one from the other, but all stories that have pulled me in and appealed to different facets of who I am. Thank goodness for friends that think of me when they read!
So I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my book, retrieved my glasses and took to my reading lounger on the porch, saying to myself ‘OK Amy, you get an hour, until it gets too hot, and then you must get back to finishing the report on your project they’ll be expecting next week.’ Well, after an hour and the first cup of coffee, I forced myself to break from the adventures of Ruth Reichl, the New York Times restaurant critic who entertains with her beguiling tales of disguises and delectables in the Manhattan restaurant scene. A pang of hunger finally hit me, after no supper last night and all these mouth watering food descriptions. I wondered how it had taken so long, actually. ‘OK Amy,’ I said to myself, ‘make yourself a Sunday breakfast, enjoy the next chapter and a bit more of the breeze as accompaniments and then hit the computer.’
Scrambled eggs, yesterday’s “rustic loaf” toasted with apricot jam, and fruit salad with a splash of amaretto to compliment the odd mix of everything fresh I had on hand: pineapple, peach, melon, apple, pear and grapes off our vine – an odd but refreshing combination, perfect for a peaceful Sunday morning. While finishing the last of the 2nd cup of coffee, I started another chapter.
This woman and her antics, and mostly her beautiful writing, just sucked me in. I didn’t want to put her down. I wanted to be her, to be able to eat 4, 5 or 6 times at the best restaurants not worrying about the cost. I wanted to know food and have the culinary experience and ability to decipher even the most obscure ingredients: squid ink, chocolate in a burgundy sauce, something sweet turning out to be pineapple juice in a Japanese soup. I wanted to be able to disguise myself into someone unrecognizable and then take on a whole new persona to discover parts if me I didn’t even know (or was afraid to know) existed. I haven’t fantasized about being a character in a novel for decades. I am charmed.
Third cup of coffee (only a half – I never have more than two) and I pass the halfway mark of the book. The humidity is still low, the breeze coming around the corner from the patio to my spot on the porch is still fresh and cool, the bees humming in the jasmine are a comforting background noise, so much better than the racket of the lotus’, whose buzzing has been like an non-stop chain saw this past week.So now I’m on apple juice and sharing my Sunday bliss for a later posting on my blog, and I argue to myself ‘Well Amy, if the report has waited all July to get finished, another Sunday won;t make that much of a difference.’
An evening glass of wine and now I’ve finished the book. What a beautiful indulgent Sunday.
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