For him, his routines were the spiritual equivalent of praying in church, and so, he avoided the possibility of novelties, surprises or improvisations penetrating the comfortably absolute emptiness of his life.
“Bearing that in mind, I’ll briefly describe one of his morning routines… As I mentioned, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, he had two soft-boiled eggs.”
“These were to be cooked by my grandmother in precisely three minutes, timed by the white grains of a sand-clock exclusively acquired for that purpose. The poached eggs were served together with two slices of bread, previously cut to a precise and identical size.”
“First, my grandmother cut off the bread’s crust. Then, she measured the exact amount of butter with a special spoon, trimming it with a knife to remove the excess. Both knife and spoon were used only for this specific task. Any other use of these would have constituted a heresy that heralded the end of the world, as we know it!”
“Grandmother would then delicately spread jam over the butter. She measured the correct amount with a different spoon that she used solely for that purpose.”
“He drank, exactly, one cup of tea to ease his digestion. The infusion of the said drink was done in three minutes, while the eggs were cooking.”
“Before grandfather began to eat, he meticulously inspected the food, while grandmother watched, listening nervously while awaiting his grunt of approval.”
© All photos by edudelcorral