Yesterday was wet and chilly. I decided instead of slapping a sandwich together for lunch that I would make biscuits and an omelette.
The weather is on its way to improving, rain-wise. It will become hot and humid. Ah, well.
I've also cracked a few figurative eggs lately. Since my father died I have called my mother daily. I felt she needed to have something she could count on in her day. I have never had a relationship with my mother, even as a child. As I got older we got along, but she did not know me. And I did not know her. Both of us have been surprised, I think. I found that she is not always as uptight as I thought and that I am more so than I could have imagined. Oh my.
I have known all along that my mouth engages before my brain, but the filter that I once did have in place has slowly been wearing out. When talking to one's elderly mother, this is not always a good thing. Just when she begins to decide I'm not so bad, I open my mouth and speak. She made a comment about a relative being too thin and I blurted out, "You're kidding. She has a butt the size of Europe." My poor mother nearly choked. I do need to clean that filter.
It is never too late. In my case this statement is more then a cliche, as I have gotten to know the woman who birthed me better and have been able to let go of any residual anger I may have had. We will never become the best of friends, but we are forming a relationship. At this stage of our lives, this is not a bad deal.
The other omelette, the one we ate for lunch; it was good.