I was sitting behind the counter in the PLATO lab of the basement of the Foreign Language Building. Despite no computer skill whatsoever, I'd gotten a job as a computer monitor thanks to a bit of nepotism.
She had long brown hair, lovely thick hornrimmed glasses, a big blue coat and was carrying a flute. Basically, she was a geek's dream girl. Heck, she even played computer games on the PLATO system.
I forgot exactly what we said, but she negotiated our terms. She'd teach me flute, I'd pay her back by driving her to the grocery store. I offered to cook for her, if she liked. My mother is an amazing cook, and some of it rubbed off on me.
I don't know if she said this then, but she would often say "My favorite food is someone else's cooking."
Your mom's cooking certainly did rub off on you. I remember one near death experience (yours not mine) when you got up at 5am in the morning. I had a house full of climbers and was living up in Yucca Valley. You woke us all by banging around in the kitchen. Just about the time the angry sleepy mob was almost motivated enough to crawl out of bed and throttle you, you presented us with the most amazing freshly baked popovers and jam. I will always remember that morning.
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