Oeufs brouillés aux fines herbes (Scrambled eggs with herbs)

Today I ticked off another Julia Child recipe, this time an easy one: scrambled eggs with herbs.

Oeufs brouillés aux fines herbes (scrambed eggs with herbs)

I am half-way through cleaning up the house. I have washed the kitchen floor, and wiped the bathroom surfaces into a state that resembles sparkling. I am swigging a cup of coffee before attacking carpets with the vacuum cleaner.  I can hear the rain pelting down on my skylight window; regrettably, there will be no sitting in a deck chair on the lawn after I have completed my domestic travail.

It was with sadness that I learned today of the unexpected and early death of one of my old academic friends, Prof. Noel Sheehy. We met from time to time on university business and, once we had dealt with that, it was our habit to sit in deck chairs on my lawn and drink lots of red wine while chatting about matters psychological, parenthood, and the affairs of the world. Sometimes, when I had to fly over to Belfast to meet with him in order to complete some examination business in the morning, we would repair afterwards to a delightful bistro for lunch; these sessions would go on all afternoon, with similar relaxation, chat and multiple glasses of red wine. I would then totter back to the airport to get my flight home in the evening, still chortling over some of his very funny remarks and analyses. Somehow, I imagined that these sessions would go on happening ad infinitum.  Indeed, he mentioned in his Christmas card this year that he might be coming up my way a little later in the summer. Bereavement, by definition, does leave one bereft.  Although our friendship manifested itself on a relatively infrequent basis largely in relation to examinations, conferences, and committees, I shall nonetheless miss him as a good friend with a wickedly delightful sense of humour.

On that rather sombre note, I bid you farewell, my dear blogophiles. I shall speak to you later.

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