I’m finding that I’m becoming less and less happy with my fiction writing. So in an effort to not produce something just for the sake of completing a challenge, I’ve decided to omit day 9 and move onto day 10. I don’t want to publish anything I’m not happy with.
As a child when we celebrated we didn’t really have a special ‘meal’ per se. Instead, my mom and I usually went to restaurants or did something fun with each other. Instead my memories of food come most strongly from being with my great-grandparents. Specifically, my great-grandmother, Alice. She was a sensational cook, and an even better card player! She’d drink all of us under the table at night, and be the first person up in the morning to cook the family breakfast. She was a beacon of light, for all of us. Our lunch times were my most fond memory. She’d make us cucumber sandwiches and orange pekoe tea and we’d sit and chat for hours. To this day I can’t smell orange pekoe without thinking of her. What a strange thing it is, to smell something and be brought back to a place so fast. During these lunches she would always regale me with the same tales from her youth. How she owned a restaurant, how she met Grandpa. It didn’t matter how many times she told me, I loved them just the same.
Throughout the day I’d snack on cheese puffs, my Grandpas favourite. There would always be a bowl on the table with bright orange crumbs layering the bottom. He always got to them faster than I did. Grandma and I would take cat naps in the veranda, after reading our books together. Her a romance novel, me, historical fiction.
For dinner, we’d have potatoes, boiled cabbage (my favourite!) and some chicken from their neighbour up the lane. She’d always bring it to Grandpa and I on diner trays, in front of our favourite chairs. Grandma sat on the couch to my left, crocheting while she chatted.
“Did I tell you about the time when I got my finger stuck in an ice cream machine?” She’d giggle.
My Grandmas passing was the first experience I had with loss. She received her diagnosis of cancer, and within 3 months she was gone. I never thought she’d ever go, she was so full of life and energy. She outdid us all and my world fell apart when she left. I’ll always remember her though. Even when I forget. I’ll always be reminded when I drink orange pekoe or have boiled cabbage. Or when I cheat at poker, don’t think we didn’t notice, Grandma!