Alchemy

Alchemy

James intently watches pepper grains -- that he madly stirred in water moments before -- fall to the bottom of the cup without dissolving. 

Little did I know pantry ingredients would transform my day. As days go it wasn't a bad one necessarily, but I wasn't happy anyway. I was fed up with the constant state of mess in my house, hating feeling like a maid (and an unsuccessful one at that), and basically tired of spinning my wheels to get nothing done.

As further wounds to my psyche, my piano student didn't show up again and Samuel was screaming so much all I could do was deposit him in his crib and walk away.

I tackled the dishes with slumped shoulders. James, without his little brother sidekick, stayed closer to me than usual. He found a science experiment book, and I soon heard him reading instructions out loud.

He dissolved salt in one cup of water, then sugar and lime juice in another. "The book said it would be tasty, Mom, and it is!"

James was so intrigued by the ordinary. At least, what is ordinary to me. It made me think, as I threw aside the dish towel and joined him first for vinegar and baking soda bubbles, then a black pepper slurry, that I need to redefine my life and make more room to study its golden "wow" moments.

"Ow-oooh!" James howled.

James' shadow butterfly