T'was the week before Easter
There’s something about the change of seasons that evokes a sense of anticipation. For me, it happens on the first cool autumn day after months of blazing heat – the kind of day where you pull out a hoodie, track pants and uggs because it’s that chilly. Every single year, this day usually comes in around Easter and swiftly reminds me that the simplest things in my life often make me the happiest.
When I started planning my posts for this week, I got a little carried away with planning as per the PSS style guide; recipes, café reviews and the all important travel piece that’s inspired by somewhere the team at PSS have recently visited.
Then yesterday happened.
Somewhere between cooking, photo shoots, café spotting and planning the next big PSS getaway, I forgot about the one simple truth that keeps me grounded, focused and always appreciating that the sweetest things in life are the ones that cannot be purchased or experienced in far away exotic destinations. So what happened?
I spent the day at mums place.
Most Sundays, Kevin and I (along with my six siblings, their partners and kids) gather at our family home in western Sydney and enjoy a banquet lunch of whatever it is mum has been cooking since 6 am. Yesterday was a little different though. It was Palm Sunday – exactly one week until Easter.
In her out door kitchen, Mum had spent the morning baking her traditional Maamoul cookies, a festive Middle Eastern recipe that’s prepared around every major religious feast or celebration. My sister Jeannie helped her pack them into containers as mum snuck one into the hands of her grandkids before they even had a chance to get some lunch into their tiny systems.
On the other side of the backyard, the boys stood over the hot charcoal barbecue ensuring every chicken wing and lamb skewer was cooked to smoky perfection. As the meat came off the barbecue, steel pots were carried to the table where salads and traditional Lebanese sides awaited. In honour of Palm Sunday, we finished things off on a sweet note with tea and buttered hot cross buns.
I’m glad I had packed my camera, but truth be told there was nothing majorly different about the way we did things yesterday. I did however, have to explain to my very confused dad why I was taking pictures of the lamb skewers on the barbecue. I get it though; how could something so incredibly mundane be the focal point of a monster photographic lens? What's so different about today that I'd need capture every last detail?
This is the whole reason why I decided to relaunch Project Sweet Stuff. This house, these people, and these experiences are the grounding forces in my world, and sometimes it’s all too easy to make a mental mess of what it is that really matters.
This is where my journey into the heart of the sweet life begins, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
