Today after school I went to the athletic club and walked on the tread mill 40 minutes next to my sweet friend, Shauna. At Christmas, I gave her a gift bag that included lots of homemade goodies…most importantly, my rosemary olive oil. I give this out every year, always. When I was in late 20s and I started making my own seasoned olive oil for gifts, I would steadfastly save every single possible bottle–s-mall soy sauce bottles, small olive oil bottles, small glass salad dressing bottles–and painstakingly peel and clean off the labels. I did this with jars for jam, too, because I was using paraffin for some dumb reason. I decided to do the old-school method. Blame Martha Stewart who make me believe that everything domestic should be hard (especially when you don’t have staff).
Anyway, she is out of my seasoned olive oil and wants more. Conveniently for her, I would happily supply a good friend my olive oil for decades. It made me think about how simply nice it is to walk on a treadmill and talk to a good friend about something as mundane as olive oil.