The Smell of Onions

There was an air of excitement around the table. Don’t get me wrong, we were still quiet but hopeful and very hungry. We’d sat a while listening to the crash of pans escaping from the crack in the kitchen door, daring each other to ask Mum when it would be ready.
As the eldest it was left up to me and I didn’t know how to tell them it was another project. There was nothing cooking, she was boiling fabric with onion skins to dye it. I grabbed a packet of crackers, cheese and apples. Another Christmas we’d never forget.