Pretty Brown Eggs

You'd think I'd remember from time to time.  But I don't.  It's odd and was gently put to me as being similar to not remembering how to make toast.  Except it wasn't very gently; it was more of a high horse situation.  I have a tendency to ride mine often though, so I let it slide.     

 

Early this evening I texted Momma Debi with a, "How do I hard boil eggs again?  You'd think I'd remember."  She came through because she always does and after several exchanges of cover vs. no cover with thirty minutes this and not prewarm water that, my eggs were boiling.   

 

When they were done, I put them in cold water in my scratched up stainless steel from Grandma Gladys bowl.  Promptly the bowl was set down on the counter and off to the races I went to find my camera.  Brown eggs in water in my grandma's stainless steel bowl with the starting to set sun streaming in from the window is something.  Something pretty. 

 

Really pretty.  The speckles.  They are the glitter of an egg.   

 

 

Which made me think.  If I could live a life in which I was only in charge of noticing pretty things like brown eggs in a bowl, I'd be set.   

Because next this pattern happened naturally while I was moving the bowl closer to the ice and out came the camera again.   

 

 

Back to the task at hand.  Putting ice in the eggs.  Here's what I learned from the process.  Not only do I forget how to hard boil eggs every freaking time, but I also forget warm wet skin is not the best combination with ice.  Pretty I can notice.  Practicality however, has the knack for eluding me.