Monday, September 9, 2013

in our hands

We had company yesterday.
Oh such anticipated company; my Aunt and Uncle and dear cousin.
Doesn't 'dear cousin' sound so Sense and Sensiblility?
We decided, my cousin and I, that we'd not seen each other since the early nineties at my Grandmother's funeral.
Twenty years have hastened by.
Twenty event-filled years.

Time does hasten by doesn't it?
Unless you are waiting.
Unless you are glancing at the clock and peering out the window with the regularity of a cuckoo clock.

I was fairly certain my company would not be arriving until after lunch.
Nevertheless, I baked blueberry muffins mid-morning just in case. The house was infused with the golden fragrance of baking.
I looked at the clock.
I peered out the window.
Then I mixed up a Sally Lunn. This was my Grandmothers signature tea bread and I felt certain that a family visit called for a family recipe.
It was soon in the oven, puffing up to its full importance and turning a lovely burnished brown.
I looked at the clock.
I peered out the window.
I imagined my Aunt and Uncle and cousin finishing their lunch in the city.
I imagined them climbing into their car and backing out of the driveway.
They could arrive anytime.
My thoughts turned to supper.
I wanted to share a light meal with my visitors before they continued northwards, wending their way home.
Soup seemed sensible; a sort of Grandma supper.
I looked at the clock.
I peered out the window.
Buns!
That's what we needed.
What is soup without fresh buns?
I mixed and kneaded.
They were baking just as my guests arrived.
I have to admit that the equator at noon came to mind as I opened my oven door and placed the steaming buns next to the pot of simmering soup.
I have no idea what I would have baked next if they had been delayed by traffic but we were mercifully spared from finding out.
It was so wonderful to chat,
to visit
and re-visit.
Time flew by but I sent them on their way with leftover Sally Lunn; love in a ziploc bag.

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