Who's your ideal man? I'm almost certain that if we asked this question to all the women on this planet, collate, and combine the 'ideal man' qualities from their answers, the result will bring to my mind - Scrambled Eggs.
The other Sunday, late morning, after a long shower, and heavy winter skincare moisturising, I stood in my kitchen trying out a new knife, trying to get used to its weight in my grip as I finely chopped a few onions. I like the ones where the blade has got some texture on it, that allows for a good grip when it pierces into the vegetable's skin; unlike this new one that was smooth as a baby's butt along the sharp edge, and also too lightweight for my liking. Yeah, I muse about these things now. My drying curls hung around one side of my face, forming a layer between my kitchen window and me, as I concentrated on the task at hand.
It was beautifully quiet, a few birds here and there, a couple of talkative pigeons, and a light sound of life from the street at the far end of my view outside my kitchen window. I knew exactly from which side what sound was penetrating the air, while looking at a fifth direction altogether, the onion. Then, I heard a man's voice, distinctly getting louder, and I looked up. There he was, on a terrace a couple of buildings over from mine. He looked fresh, and clean. He looked like he was deep into a lovely conversation, for he was smiling... so I'm thinking his girlfriend. I'm hoping, in fact. I'm hoping a woman out there was talking to this simple, fresh, clean man who looked like he'd just stepped out of the shower and into fresh pair of clothes, and is actually into this conversation. I'm such a romantic that I hoped he was talking to a girl, and both of them were happy. And thinking of this, made me smile.
Maybe it was the cool winter breeze that gently blew through this entirety of this musing, added to this the warm yellow winter sun rays bouncing off of this man as he walked around his terrace for over an hour, chattering away animatedly with his girlfriend, that reminded me of the beauty of comfort. And how valuable it is, when you find someone with whom you can be absolutely comfortable.
Find a man who has himself a nice, lazy routine on a Sunday, wears a fresh pair of trousers and t-shirt, and strolls on his terrace while talking to you. He's comfortable, just like Scrambled Eggs.
eNo crazy recipe, just making scrambled eggs on a relaxed day.Until next time.