surfing the questions and DIY lemon curd

Up to our puppy-fostering tricks again.

Rose and I are out doing errands, bustling in and out of the car with lists and bags, my mind clamped on things to remember like mantras that could derail my life if I lose the thread. Pickuplibrarybooks. Meanwhile Rose is sharing every thought particle that touches down in her brain. It’s like mental athletics, watching my own thoughts bloom and get knocked off course by her next flurry of questions and observations. Right now she’s telling me that she really wishes the word pecans was spelled peeCONS, because that’s how she likes to say it. I am wondering if I need three more cups of coffee or three more hours of meditation.

“Do you think they’re married?” Rose wonders about two white-haired ladies walking into the grocery store together. “They have the same hairstyle,” she says by way of explanation. I am considering a response while Rose has already turned the page of her mind. “I can’t decide if I want to get both ears double pierced or just one.” Dropboxesatthriftstore.

Pushing the cart down the aisle, she observes, “it would be hard to have smaller arms than we do.”

Garlicavocadostoiletpaper.

“I’ve noticed that I want to help so much more when I’m happy,” Rose tells me, packing broccoli in a plastic bag. She spent two hours the previous day in deep sadness.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because when you’re happy you have everything you want.”

“And then you have enough happiness to help others?”

“I guess. Also, now that Nana bought me flip flops I have all the shoes I need.”

“Awesome!” I reply with silent but fervent gratitude to the gods of enoughness. May they visit frequently and stay long.

Lemon curd with white sugar.

Lemon curd with coconut sugar.

Sometimes being with Rose is a little like surfing. When I can put my attention on the wave of her latest question, we can ride the swell of her beautiful mind together. I can drop my agenda and paddle with her into the current where she shows me the exact reflection of her ten year old mind. Other times, I forget what I’m doing, miss my turn, lose my mantra, sense my space collapsing, choke in the undertow.

On the way to a party, I tell her I’ve never been to the house and I know nothing more than the address. Absolutely nothing.

“Will the party be outside?”

We’re back at home, making our second batch of lemon curd. Between squeezing lemons and stirring lemon juice Rose wonders, “What did Col read before comic books?” And, “Is Daddy ever going to shave his beard again?”

Sometimes the questions don’t need answers, they just need space, to be set free, to evaporate into the field of our kitchen, where lemon curd is thickening on the stove; the sourness makes itself known, while the sweet undertones are what remain. Rose’s questions are nothing to fear, it’s actually just her finely-tuned mind filtering through waves of sensory information. We spoon lemon curd into our mouths, savoring the deep, full richness of the yellow treat, and of life.

Enormous lemons from Tucson.

LEMON CURD – Makes 1 cup plus few extra “taster” spoonfuls

Ingredients:

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice

1/4 – 1/3 cup sugar

3 egg yolks

4 TBSP butter, cut into tablespoon-sized pieces

Directions:

Whisk lemon juice, sugar, egg yolks until smooth in heavy-bottomed saucepan, off the heat. Once whisked, place pan over low heat and whisk butter into the mix, one piece at a time until melted. Once melted, turn burner up to medium-low and keep whisking. Simmer and whisk until curd has thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon – about 5-10 minutes. Remove from heat. It will continue to thicken as it cools. Store in fridge for up to 2 weeks.

Same photo as above, before the judicious cropping.

Don’t forget to remove the seeds.

Whisking briskly.

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