Well, 9 months later and I've finally decided to bite the bullet and join a 'meetup' group in my 'hood.
As much as I love the plants and my doggie (who I must say has been the best darn friend a girl could ever ask for during this life transition), it's time for this recluse to spread her wings and break new ground.
I set up my profile and bio and even supplied the requested headshot. Despite feeling a twinge of discomfort the way you would if you were signing up for a dating service, I smiled when all was said and done and feel ready for this new challenge. It's been about ten years since I've actively engaged in a creative writing process of this kind -- the kind where you read your work out loud into a painfully silent room and feel the vibration of your hands shaking and your voice cracking with every word. The kind where warm and supportive folks greet your tortured prose with effusive feedback to be replaced, eventually and properly, by frank critique. Awwwkward, says my eldest. Maybe so, but fun too. And he forgets that I did this for years when he was just a nibblet (although I will say, the group sure seems a lot younger than they did a decade ago! Ha, good thing writing is ageless).
So I have a tasty and seasonal little yummy for you today that I thought might work very well as a mother's day appetizer during cocktail hour or on the brunch table. A very simple and colourful twist on traditional bruschetta that packs some delicious flavour.
If you like the idea but prefer to skip the bread, I'm happy to report that this spread works beautifully on sliced cucumber. Cucumber is firm enough to grasp as finger food and provides a perfect platform for the cheese and strawberry mixture. It's also resilient enough not to soften, the way bread does, from the wet mixture. I actually loved the cucumber version.
Cheers to a wonderful weekend and to mothers of all ages and stages around the globe. Those who are still with us and those we carry in our hearts. We are all born of mothers ♡.
Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother the wide world over.
~ George Cooper