A friend said the hottest thing about her was that she could make macaroni and cheese without a recipe. I wondered if it was any good. After all, there is a vast difference between good mac and bad. There can be variations on a theme, for instance, deep fried macaroni bites, to me, qualifies...definitely.
Having spent years watching Fred grab for the brass ring, I became entangled in the idea that my husband's grand finale would end on some pinnacle. Instead, his bosses were dismissive. There was no band or canapes. A two hour ride home, a box of pens and photos that had worn to a yellowish hue around the edges was all that marked the departure.
Yesterday he kissed the Blarney Stone. It was glorious. Suddenly everything was erased, any sentimentality was flushed away when the mist settled on his spiky gray eyebrows.
It was all for this. True life and freedom. Now we both realize that all of the years washed away needed bleaching. They were a mush of schedules and sleep deprivation, but the real prize at the end was a cozy seat on the city bus in the city center in Dublin searching pub by pub for the best macaroni.
