Somehow Pancake Day has become Pancake Week in our house… After weekend breakfasts of pancakes, on Monday at Mud Pies, we cooked pancakes over a campfire and ate them with jam+butter. On Shrove Tuesday, we made more pancakes (with a recipe similar to this one, sans-blueberries) and L. dedicated himself to peeling apples for applesauce to accompany sausages and yoghurt. If you were worried about the peelings going to waste–which admittedly, I wasn’t–L. ate them like crisps all afternoon long. He never ceases to surprise me.
Said goodbye this week to some wonderful friends of ours who have been in Aberdeen almost as long as we have. Saying goodbye is so hard, and with many academic friends from all parts of the world, it seems like something we do on a fairly regular basis. Although these beauties are not moving too far away, I am going to miss the every-day-ness of our friendship. A number of packed lunches eaten together, walks in lovely local spots, and the general sharing of joys and sadnesses.
And on that note, for you, and for my departing friends, another James K. Baxter poem this week; Haere Rā:
Farewell to Hiruhārama –
The green hills and the river fog
Cradling the convent and the Māori houses –
The peach tree at my door is broken, sister,
It carried too much fruit,
It hangs now by a bent strip of bark –
But better that way than the grey moss
Cloaking the branch like an old man´s beard;
We are broken by the Love of the Many
And then we are at peace
Like the fog, like the river, like a roofless house
That lets the sun stream in because it cannot help it.