Every five minutes, I allow myself five minutes of tomfoolery.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Apron (adult to adult) (prologue to a new project)
In my world, cupboards are magnetic.
Mother and child.
My mom spends lots of time with suds. She was an accidental homemaker -- she did not expect to spend a quarter of her life cooking and washing. I reassure her, though, that her impact as a mother surpasses the one she would have made as an Oracle employee. To thank her for this sacrifice, I drew this on her birthday, filling it with things she loves: Pinky and Qiomi, her pet koi fish; Dizzy, the neighborhood cat; the sprouted onion project and porcelain pickle jar. My mom churns out new edibles every day, to the delight of designated samplers (me and me) of her Pesto Variations (from walnut to nettle!) and Tunisian tajine (my mom has mastered cuisine from every continent). There is no scene I love more -- a bag full of treasures from Trader Joe’s, some leafy greens awaiting the guillotine. The heart of our home is the kitchen, and my mom is the pulse, sending life to each extremity.