Paul Hollywood

I met a man tonight.  I didn’t expect it. It was a surprise. Who could expect to meet someone new in the middle of a pandemic where we are all stuck in our homes, but I let him into mine.

I saw him very late at night and I was tired. I must find out when I can see him again.

He is tall with engaging eyes, a British accent and a little goatee.

There was another woman with him. They were laughing. She was teasing him about the color of his hair, salt and pepper, and the strength of his arms. She also praised him for his buns.

I sat there, watching him work. Watching the two of them together and even though I had just met him I became envious and jealous of her.

They were rolling, they were rubbing, they were patting. He has such skills.

I don’t know when I will see him again. He has the unbelievable name of Paul Hollywood. I saw him very late at night. I must find out when I can see him again.  In the dark. In the kitchen.

Some Easter reflections amid a pandemic

When my sons were little, maybe three and four, we set out all of the coloring stuff on the kitchen table, including several layers of newspaper (sorry JournalSentinel) to catch the spills. The cups filled with different colors were ready, the boys had their little wire dunkers in hand and... oh no! I got a phone call I had to take. This was before cell phone popularity but only 23 years ago. Anyway, I left the table and went to the phone in the other room. The call lasted longer than I hoped and worried that the boys would have trashed the kitchen or lost interest interest in egg coloring by the time I returned. But, lo and behold when I got back to the kitchen table all the eggs had been colored! About two dozen! They were all sitting in those cardboard egg holders. I asked the boys, "who colored all the eggs!!" They both said "we did". Not with a lot of pride, just sort of matter-of-fact. I cried.