Telling Deb about Mom and Aunt Reta (in a comment a few days ago) got me wondering if I’d posted a picture of Mom when she heard Reta at the door. I did a search of my earlier blog and clicked on this link (entry includes Everett at 12, when he was still adorable without even trying):
Man that old blog is a pain to navigate. I read this entry
And there are no forward and back links anymore, darn it!
But it’s still leading me down the rabbit hole; here’s a photo with Joan and Karen in it … At Mom’s First Funeral
I found it! The picture showing Mom getting up from her chair when Reta Arrives.
After reading the entry at the top link, I had a little cry. It taught me something. The grief this morning was not about Mom being gone. It was about her suffering before she went.
After hearing about her diagnosis, I had serious crying jags and nights of tossing and turning, unable to sleep. I’d wake up from a mere doze and be half-dreaming that Mom was in pain and I was helpless to make it stop. Hives broke out on my forearms and welts struck my eyes. I should find the picture of *that* – oh my gawd. Now when I cry, I keep the salty tears wiped away.
Even when the ingredients of a recipe don’t entice me to try it, I always read Mr. Lincez’s kitchen tips at the end of “Harvest Fare,” the best newspaper cooking column I know:
Kitchen Tips: Properly prepared, garlic is nothing to be afraid of but a couple of things
to remember are that garlic tends to burn fast – making it bitter. If you’re
sautéing an onion and a diced pepper, for instance, add the garlic halfway
through. In most cases minced is best. You want the garlic flavour without
biting into a chunk of it during dinner. If you are using whole garlic buds
to flavour a stock or cook a roast, give them a good smash to get things going.
There are a couple enzymes within a whole clove that usually stay
happily away from one another. A simple smash forces the two to mingle.