Lunch in a box

I am not a mother. Nor do I have a mother any longer. Even when she was alive Mothers’ Day wasn’t a big deal. So usually it’s a day which passes me by unremarked.

However this year has been different because my friend R is home on her own. She is a mother. Of three. And a wife. Of one.

Two children and the husband are overseas. The third child had intended to be with Mum today, but she contracted Covid on Thursday and is in isolation at Uni.

I phoned R this morning about something unrelated…and heard her in tears. I told her I would be there at 12.30 with lunch.

My morning quickly turned into a busy cooking session. A capsicum and onion flan, a leafy herb salad, and a mayo dressing.

Boxed it up. Bean into the car. Off we went.

Damp eyes greeted us. But we had a simply lovely cheerful hour sharing fresh food, chatting about families, and admiring Bean.

Then it was home to continue uncomposting veg beds, and I made a start on digging holes for new native trees.

Flan-powered.

A good day.