Little Forager

William woke up from a dreamy deep sleep of a nap. He wasn't thrilled to meet the day again head on. It was slightly cool, so we made tea, bundled in the stroller, and meandered through the yard. The day before, heavy rain soaked the earth and in turn the earth pushed up chantrelles all over. Bright yellowish orange mushrooms popped up here and there. He pointed and I pulled and placed gently in his lap.

The day didn't seem as daunting anymore. He was ready to cook now. He washed them all. He cut them into tiny pieces. Amelia brought him some parsley from the sparse parsley plant by the pool and I cut up an onion. He pulled his chair to the stove and started dumping in his ingredients. I'm sure it was his generous portions of butter that he continued to share with the bruschetta, and his tender patience while he stirred that made it most divine.


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