~ in Mom and Dad's kitchen ~

Sunday 27 March 2005
9:37 a.m.

It’s a grey, rainy day here in Kelowna. I’ve begun to love rainy days — I, who was always a sun worshipper. People do change, apparently. Like my brother here, who huffed and puffed all the way through the kneading of his first bread dough. “This is a pretty good workout!” he pronounced.

Last night after the family supper, while we sat around the kitchen table having dessert and coffee, he asked for my recipes for the salad dressing I’d served and for ketchup. Later he mentioned that he’s stopped eating dairy.

“Don’t tell me you’re turning into a health nut,” I said, scarcely able to believe.
“Yep, I think so,” he replied, straightfaced ... he who always ridiculed my “crunchy granola ways” (thanks Diana for the term) and pooh-poohed anything that was “good for you.”

This morning, he offered to make me toast. And to top it off, he brought me a cup of coffee. I thought, awed, that he must be growing up. He turns 40 this September, so it could happen.

Mom came over last night too of course, but had a tightness around her chest that her docs attribute to anxiety. They told her to take an Ativan when she feels it. So she laid on my bed, I gave her feet a rub, and she practised her self-hypnosis and had a little snooze. I know she was snoozing because she didn’t get up for ice cream. Mom never passes up ice cream. As a matter of fact she usually goes out of her way for it, several times a day.

It’s her 64th birthday tomorrow.

~ proudly turning his loaves out of their pans ~

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