My Mother-in-law was a very practical person, and would often try to help me by showing me the right way to do things. In my early years of marriage I probably wasn't as receptive to her advice as I could have been - youth doesn't often favour the wisdom of the next generation, I realise. One of the useful habits I did pick up from her, was always to crack an egg into a cup or empty bowl, just in case it is rotten. Then the whole mixture/ cake will not be wasted. This advice stuck, and I still crack eggs one by one into a cup before adding them to a recipe, despite not often finding green eggs. Yesterday was only the third time ever.
A rotten egg is pretty disgusting. The greenish brownish slush stinks and needs a quick disposal to avoid stomach repercussions. And so the Malva pudding was saved yesterday, thanks to ancient wisdom.
I am not superstitious - I am perfectly comfortable with the number 13, black cats are delightful, and ladders are my friends (except when I broke a toe colliding into one whilst painting the lounge...) But rotten eggs make me uneasy. I connect them with disaster. There is a reason, which isn't very interesting, so I will skip the details. It was coincidences of bad eggs and bad news, but the feeling stuck.
So when I broke the egg yesterday my headspace looped into a bit of dread. Easily shaken off with logic. Not so easily shaken off with heart.
What will 2024 be like? Andrew turns 60 in less than a month. I will be turning 27 again in May (it will the 30th anniversary of my 27th birthday....) We are getting to the mildly decrepit stage of life. I will give you an example: we decided to go to the movies a few nights ago. The film was bewilderingly bad, but we were happy that a) We had gone out, and b) The seats were really comfortable. Sounds a bit fuddy duddy doesn't it! So I am hoping to regain a youthful spark next year, and get stuck into some projects that are just for me. For many a year it has felt as though I have been the background to other people's lives: A support structure making sure they can get on with what they need to do. But roles shift and change, and now maybe there is some more freedom to tentatively dip my toes in the ocean of otherness.
It is a bit of a void, and a little daunting. Maybe that was yesterday's heart space.
Onwards and upwards, always....as we say in our family. Happy New Year. May 2024 bring peace.
Documented proof that green eggs are not particularly appetizing at first glance.....
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