left in the wake of AC’s departure, someone had to step to the stove. i’d been entrusted with the christmas eggs recipe, so i was the logical choice. after whisking and stiring and steaming and worrying and checking, the end product was not far off. after plating the eggs for my fellow writing retreaters, i sat down to a text message from her:
“don’t forget the special ingredient: love.”
i quickly texted back, “how about fear?”
i was only half kidding. AC is a killer in the kitchen and a giant when it comes to writing and is it any surprise she’s one of my main role models? but with her presence no longer here at #rockportwriting, i only had myself to rely on. i was in charge of seasoning my story and stirring the plot of the christmas eggs. there was no room for fear. only action.
and then this morning, we were faced with a lot of leftovers and only a half planned morning meal. the ingredients for christmas eggs were still in abundance, so i volunteered to whip up another batch. this time, i was in control. i gripped the spatula and added patience and love to taste.