About a hundred years ago I went to college in England and met some of my favorite people ever. Here I am with my roommate, Ellen, who could always be counted on for costumes and treats and tea and common sense and often a bit of eye-rolling at my many American enthusiasms. God, I miss her. She’s a mum now, with two little ones under five. She lives in the Netherlands and she blogs about it with her patented self-deprecating dry humor and it makes me laugh and feel like no time or distance has passed at all.
This morning I came across a post on her blog I hadn’t read yet about trying to get her son to eat something with his mayonnaise. (Apparently that’s what the Dutch dip things into instead of ketchup?! I’m moving there!) Suddenly it’s like I’m there in her kitchen or she’s there in my nephew’s, because I’ve seen this scene a thousand times but through Ellen’s eyes, it just doesn’t seem old in the least.