You might be asking, “What’s she writing about now?”
Well, I don’t blame you. I wasn’t sure myself until last night. I had some ideas, but nothing was coming together and hadn’t for the past several days. So I slept on it. That’s one of my sure-fire methods to get to the heart of what’s bothering me whether it’s a personal problem, a memory problem, or a writing problem.
And this morning, I knew what to do. Of course it helped that the sun was trying valiantly to peak through the ever present cloud blanket that’s been hanging over our area for most of February. 🙂
So first the salad. You’ve glanced at the photo. I snapped the photo. My oldest son made the salad. It will always be a memorable one: obviously the fresh spinach was a base—never would I have believed he’d be using fresh spinach based upon his childhood eating habits where green wasn’t something that thrilled him. Then hard boiled egg whites, a few bits of crisp-fried bacon, a mustard-sour cream-egg yolk dressing, all were carefully placed to look appetizing.
It didn’t disappoint.
The occasion was a family dinner we decided to have the evening after my other son, Jimbo’s funeral. The main course was his favorite meal, steak au poivre. Jimbo never missed a meal if he knew that was on the menu. If for some reason he couldn’t be here, he made sure to stop by the next day for his leftovers. Despite the sadness of that reason for gathering, we had a great evening and a fantastic meal. Jimbo would have loved it, including the spinach salad.
I will treasure this photo always because it will remind me of that evening.
How does Secretariat, or Big Red, as he was often referred to come into this?
Well, last night my husband and I finally got around to watching the movie. Secretariat was a special kind of horse. His records still remain. His owner and others believed in him when most of horse racing didn’t. The movie had some sadness in it since the deaths of Penny Chenery Tweedy’s parents caused her to become more involved in the family business. Death is sad. But it doesn’t have to stop others from living. In Mrs. Tweedy’s case as for others around her, those deaths and the birth of the red foal provided new meaning and directions in their lives. There’s a powerful message there for me and others.
No, the movie wasn’t great by awards standards. But it was heart-warming and had a message. I got it. I’m not sorry I watched it.
And that comes to the third element of my blog title—a dash of sad. SAD is a disorder that affect many people in low-light, dreary climates during the winter. Sad is an emotion that all of us have at one time or another. It is not a disorder. In fact if we are truly living our lives, we must expect to encounter sadness and deal with it. I realized over this past week that sadness is like the spices I have in my kitchen, the ones I cook and bake with. If I didn’t have them, I’d have no chance of being adequate at either. Sadness is like the pepper that makes Jimbo’s favorite meal the great dish it is. Or the bacon and spinach flavors melding together to form the great salad. It’s the salt on fresh popcorn, the nutmeg in my pumpkin bread. We need sadness. It can be the motivator that helps us move on or create something worthwhile. It can be negative if we let it overpower us or control us so others avoid us. Think garlic here.
So I’ve had another dash of sad in my life. But I’ll not dishonor my son by letting it turn bad. I’ll use the sadness to make me stronger and better. Sure I’ll be sad sometimes, but in a good, positive way. After all, winter is leaving us. I can see it do so on our lake. Like winter, the mourning part of sadness is drifting away; the good memories remain. And spring will come again soon.
What do you think?