Sunday Supper

What a change from yesterday. At 5:30a.m. the temp is at 55°. Holly is curled up at the foot of the bed. I can hear the birds through the just opened bedroom window and my “Cowboy Celtic” station is playing on Pandora. As far as “my world” goes, all is at peace.

It is so important to have friends in your life. Back through the 1980’s-1990’s it was a common occurrence to host or be invited to a spur of the moment dinner or gathering. These get togethers did a lot to make the long winter palatable. The memories I have and treasure of those now far off times.

You have to keep making memories. There were a lot of memories made Sunday afternoon. After getting off to a chilly start the day finally warmed up in the late afternoon to allow a porch gathering before supper.

It seems like when I entertain it is like a TV show in how everything just flows. My friends are so compatible in having intelligent well-rounded discussions. All the while this interaction is going on neighbors are passing by on the sidewalk and Holly patrols around and through the house. That cat loves to have company around.

I learned long ago how plain well-cooked food is relished and is so much easier to entertain with over intricate complicated cuisine. It did my heart good at the dinner table to see second and third helpings of goulash and collard greens get dished out. There were a number of seconds for cheesecake also.

The evening cooled off to enable the gas lights to be turned on. Those flickering flames are truly magic for creating a mood.

This meal was all done without pretension using tableware and linens I’ve owned and used for decades. There are so many now departed from my life who have used this stuff. I think that is why it really is not a grueling chore to clean up as I’m reliving the past as I wash and in the case of the napkins iron the brilliant white cloth.

I hit the jackpot when Alex and Maegan bought the house behind me. Maegan’s due date is Friday. I like to think the porch parties and dinners here will be part of her stories she will tell her daughter growing up.

The clean up is waiting for me. I’ll wash up in stages. First the silverware, then the glasses, plates, serving dishes, and finally the pots and pans.

Holly’s selfie on the bed shows my computer “armoire desk” and this journal entry on the monitor.