Food
Growing up in the late 90's in hot and dusty Sharjah, I had a voracious appetite for the likes of Secret Seven and Famous Five. Books by Enid Blyton and children's classics such as 'What Katy Did' were always on the menu.
Though varied in their tone and plots, a common thread ran along all of these - an affinity, of the protagonist children, for eating food in unusual, hidden away places. Sometimes it was a tin of lemon cream biscuits, hidden away in a cave by the sea. Sometimes it was a little alcove in the woods. Many times, it was a midnight feast in the dorms, secretly held and immensely enjoyed.
So inevitably, my fantasies began to include snacks enjoyed away from the dining room, either in solitude or in the company of very special friends.
How lovely it would be, I'd think, to sit on a swing and have a bite, without a timetable to adhere to. I'd live on a farm, with a great, big, oak tree. And from it would hang a little seat, the perfect size for a little girl and her beloved pet.
And every evening, as the sun lowered into the horizon, I'd grab a jam sandwich, call the kitty, and watch.
I would silently watch as the skies were painted in dazzling hues of crimson and scarlet. I'd close my eyes and lose myself in the gentle, back and forth movement of the swing.
And of course, I would eat. Quietly, and without distractions; savouring every morsel of my white bread slathered with strawberry jam.
And the simplest of foods would transform into heavenly ambrosia.
https://www.facebook.com/JFZscribbles/posts/2978282605574864?__tn__=K-R
Though varied in their tone and plots, a common thread ran along all of these - an affinity, of the protagonist children, for eating food in unusual, hidden away places. Sometimes it was a tin of lemon cream biscuits, hidden away in a cave by the sea. Sometimes it was a little alcove in the woods. Many times, it was a midnight feast in the dorms, secretly held and immensely enjoyed.
So inevitably, my fantasies began to include snacks enjoyed away from the dining room, either in solitude or in the company of very special friends.
How lovely it would be, I'd think, to sit on a swing and have a bite, without a timetable to adhere to. I'd live on a farm, with a great, big, oak tree. And from it would hang a little seat, the perfect size for a little girl and her beloved pet.
And every evening, as the sun lowered into the horizon, I'd grab a jam sandwich, call the kitty, and watch.
I would silently watch as the skies were painted in dazzling hues of crimson and scarlet. I'd close my eyes and lose myself in the gentle, back and forth movement of the swing.
And of course, I would eat. Quietly, and without distractions; savouring every morsel of my white bread slathered with strawberry jam.
And the simplest of foods would transform into heavenly ambrosia.
https://www.facebook.com/JFZscribbles/posts/2978282605574864?__tn__=K-R
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