Tonight my eldest said, "What I love about our family, is there's always something weird happening." She was referring to a call I'd received. Just before a handful of mates arrived for dinner. Two of them announcing the date for their civil ceremony. Midsummer's Day. Bless:-) I was glazing the chicken and leek pie when the phone went. It was my stepmother. Calling from Germany. Across three decades. To apologise for ruining my life. "You didn't," I said. That's weird, right? Regular readers of this blog will guess that the call was initiated by the discovery of my half-brother a few weeks back. On a networking website. His mother wanted me and the kids, and my mother, to visit her. I couldn't talk for long. Because people were at the door. But I was charmed. In between courses, I called my ma. "If she's invited us, let's go," she said. "Are you sure?" I asked. "It wasn't her fault," she replied, "He lied to her as well as to us." My stepmother had suggested we visited later this month. But it's the run up to crimble... Later? Why not? Things happen for a reason, don't they? She knew about my life. Had read my articles, my books, my website... "My husband," she said, "He kept things inside him. This would not have been possible when he was alive." She's right. Because I wouldn't have gone.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Tonight my eldest said, "What I love about our family, is there's always something weird happening." She was referring to a call I'd received. Just before a handful of mates arrived for dinner. Two of them announcing the date for their civil ceremony. Midsummer's Day. Bless:-) I was glazing the chicken and leek pie when the phone went. It was my stepmother. Calling from Germany. Across three decades. To apologise for ruining my life. "You didn't," I said. That's weird, right? Regular readers of this blog will guess that the call was initiated by the discovery of my half-brother a few weeks back. On a networking website. His mother wanted me and the kids, and my mother, to visit her. I couldn't talk for long. Because people were at the door. But I was charmed. In between courses, I called my ma. "If she's invited us, let's go," she said. "Are you sure?" I asked. "It wasn't her fault," she replied, "He lied to her as well as to us." My stepmother had suggested we visited later this month. But it's the run up to crimble... Later? Why not? Things happen for a reason, don't they? She knew about my life. Had read my articles, my books, my website... "My husband," she said, "He kept things inside him. This would not have been possible when he was alive." She's right. Because I wouldn't have gone.
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2 comments:
Yes, yes ,yes, but let's cut to the chase; why not a change - how about turkey and apricot pie? I guess rabbit and beetroot would be going a bit far in one step. Guinea fowl and turnip?
Dear Rogue, I can only DO chicken and leek. And even that's using Saxbys ready made pastry! In our house, you get lasagne, chicken breasts roasted in a teriyaki marinade, various veg-heavy casseroles or home deliveries. That's it. When we have guests, it's chicken and leek pie, or it's roast lamb. That's the choice. If you can break this cycle by passing on some useful recipes, I would be grateful;-)
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