Mixed It Slowly, 2010

Patar, summer, 2010
Jesse is 44, Fiona is 41, Veronika is 12, Jessica and Jennifer are 7, Jeremy is 5

She was giddy during the entire flight, anxious to reach the city and start exploring and start painting.  She wasn't at all nervous when they left that morning. Why should she be? It wasn't her first plane ride, nor her first trip. But for some reason her mother seemed nervous. She would look at her with a sad look and whisper "my baby". Sometimes Veronika did not understand her parents.

"Once you're done taking photos, do you want to get an authentic croissant?" Fiona asked her daughter as the young girl crouched closer to get the perfect picture.

"Yes, please."

"Are you excited about your course?"

Veronika nodded. "I can't wait. It's going to be hard work, but I'm excited."

"I'm excited for you as well. I can't believe my baby is studying art in Deux-Sèvres of all places."

"Moooommm"

"I'm so proud of you, can't a mother be proud of her daughter?"

Veronika grinned, "yea, I guess so."

To Veronika time seemed to stand still. She spent most of her hours in class, working under master artists whose talents were renowned across SimNation.

She would then return home in the evenings and work on her various projects.

She would stay there until her mother came to get her for dinner.

Most times they ate out.

Each time they would order something different,

tasting and exploring the city through their taste buds.

Over dinner they would discuss Veronika's day and her progress

or sometimes just chat about life in general.

Other days, Fiona would study the cookbook and then after class they would head to the market with their shopping list.

They would linger over the booths and the wooden tables, touching the producing and accepting samples from the farmers.

They would examine their list and the strange signs in a foreign language, hoping that they were actually purchasing the right raw llama milk cheese, or if they should splurge on the golden fig tarts or apricot truffles for dessert.

Back in their small rented apartment, Fiona would work at recreating the recipe while Veronika returned to her canvas.

She would watch her daughter from the window as she sliced the food and mixed it slowly. Taking her time not to make a mistake since she wasn't known for her cooking.

Those were the meals that Fiona enjoyed the best.

Sometimes the food didn't come out looking or tasting like the recipe and they would toss the remains in the trash and eat chocolates for dinner instead.

Other evenings, everything was perfect and they would eat silently for a few moments, enjoying the flavors as they danced across their tongue.

Weekends were free, and Veronika and Fiona would visit the shops,

looking for souvenirs to take home to their family,

or tasting the local espresso which after a few tries Veronika still declared that espresso tasted like mud.

Now she was better at ordering her cup. Plain espresso, lots of milk, lots of sugar and a bit of honey.

Fiona would tease and say that she was drinking espresso flavored milk,

but Veronika knew this was the only way she could sip from the delicate cup and not gag.

"Is the beautiful girl in the mirror ready to go home?"

"She is," Veronika answered. "But I'm not. I wish I could stay longer."

"I know, maybe we can come back here...as a family and see your art displayed in the museum."

"That would be nice."
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Besides the trip to Deux-Sèvres the Kents did enjoy their summer