It's been eight days since we left behind the empty apartment in Harvard Square but with loads of fond memories of our little chapter in Cambridge, MA.. It's also been eight days since we started "reclaiming" our taste-buds with my mother-in-law's home-cooking in the south of France.
Slightly wary of becoming a sloth, I offer to help with bits of household chores like ironing and washing the dishes. My right arm is somewhat sore because, just an hour ago, it was my MIL's whisk. It's not the first time I join her in baking but today is more hard work since cookie dough is not as gentle as cake batter.
Using only a fork, I creamed the butter, followed by white and brown sugar for what seemed like forever. I did it standing up, then with the right knee resting on the chair, and later sitting on it. And when the soreness kicked in, I stood up again. The only way I could work it more efficiently was to turn the mixing bowl anti-clockwise with the left hand while the right hand "whisked" clockwise. Then came a funny revelation.
Slightly wary of becoming a sloth, I offer to help with bits of household chores like ironing and washing the dishes. My right arm is somewhat sore because, just an hour ago, it was my MIL's whisk. It's not the first time I join her in baking but today is more hard work since cookie dough is not as gentle as cake batter.
Using only a fork, I creamed the butter, followed by white and brown sugar for what seemed like forever. I did it standing up, then with the right knee resting on the chair, and later sitting on it. And when the soreness kicked in, I stood up again. The only way I could work it more efficiently was to turn the mixing bowl anti-clockwise with the left hand while the right hand "whisked" clockwise. Then came a funny revelation.
There I was - working as the MIL's "tool" while she placed the next ingredients on the table. Of course this was what I saw. At first. But as I thought as hard as my hand worked, it gradually appeared that I was the main chef, while Maman was doing the mise en place for me! How cool is that...
Which brings us to the classic "half full / half empty" glass scenario. Life takes place. But it is how one chooses to see it that makes life beautiful or otherwise.
Which brings us to the classic "half full / half empty" glass scenario. Life takes place. But it is how one chooses to see it that makes life beautiful or otherwise.
