Posted tagged ‘friends’

“I refuse to believe that trading recipes is silly. Tuna fish casserole is at least as real as corporate stock.”

June 4, 2012

Third day in a row of rain and that damp cold. It is only 52° right now, and there is a wind which makes it feel colder. Last night was a snuggle under the blanket night as I had my bedroom window open. Fern and Gracie were huddled beside me for the warmth.

Dinner was a smashing success. The curry was perfect. It had enough heat to make it interesting, and the taste of the fruit and the curry together was like a rainbow of colors bursting in your mouth. The coconut ice cream and the chocolate sea salt caramel was a perfect ending to the meal. The sauce was extraordinary and the salt gave it the most amazingly wonderful flavor. The talking stopped when the dessert eating began. I prepared the appetizers and the chicken and spices then John and Michelle came and John took over with the chopping and the sauce making. I loved it. I got to sit and enjoy my company. Michelle and I sat in the dining room so we could keep John company while he minced and chopped. After dinner, my guests cleaned up. That was wonderful and I was profusely thankful. I am always exhausted after cooking for hours and then having to clean up, usually by myself. All that’s left is to put away the dishes!

It was so wonderful having Michelle and John here. She got to put faces to names and see the house. Michelle is a Coffee reader so she knew my friends and had a picture in her head of what my house must look like based on what she has been reading. Michelle took lots of pictures. My friends easily took to Michelle and John. It boggles my mind that Michelle and I first met in 1969, and when we see each other, our friendship never skips a beat. I love John and I love his patience with Michelle and me when we reminisce. Their visit was all too short but they’re off for the rest of their vacation, three more weeks on the road. They’ll make Bangor today.

I’m going to take it easy today and finish reading the Sunday papers I didn’t get to read between watching the flotilla and making the dinner preparations.

I’m back! My electricity went off, and I wondered if a giant rat had eaten all my wires, but I used my cell and called my friend down the street. He had none either. I could rest easily!

“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”

November 19, 2011

Streets and backyards are covered with brown oak leaves, recent victims of the last three days of winds. Pine needles in the front yard cover the lawn and garden. My world is drab and messy.

Today Miss Gracie is six years old. After I finish here, we have to go to Agway for dog food so she’ll get to pick a couple of gifts and a treat or two. Gracie won’t think this too special as it happens almost every time we go to Agway. Dogs are meant to be spoiled.

I sent out my Thanksgiving cards today and they got me thinking. Thanksgiving is the least pretentious of all the holidays. No colored lights gleam in the darkness, no special decorations or costumes or new spring clothes are any part of the day. Christmas has Santa and Easter has its bunny, but Thanksgiving just has itself which is more than enough. It is the one holiday without the hustle and bustle of days of preparation. It is a day when we can take time to remember the people we love and the people we have loved. We get to be thankful for being together, and we get to share a sumptuous meal. I think the sharing of food is one of the most intimate moments which brings people together.

When my Ghanaian student, now a woman in her fifties, was here we all sat and ate a Ghanaian dinner. It was the sharing of a culture, of my memories and experiences and of the bond which has held strong between Francisca and me despite the forty years since we last saw each other. It was more than a meal: it was a celebration of friendship and family.

On Thanksgiving, most of us have a turkey at center stage. We cook foods we’ve eaten since childhood, foods which connect the years, strengthen the bonds between family and friends and touch all of our memories. I can’t imagine a Thanksgiving without green bean casserole or Tony’s grandmother’s cole slaw or my mother’s squash dish. This year, as on every Thanksgiving Day, I will be thankful for the years of memories, for the gifts from this one unpretentious day.

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.”

May 26, 2011

Yesterday I had to go to Boston. Yesterday was a perfectly gorgeous day, sunny and warm. I missed it. Today is warm, but the sun is somewhere else probably resting after yesterday’s exhaustion. I hope it decides to return. Regardless, today I have a few errands then I’m getting the deck summer ready.

I don’t see anyone from my childhood. A few are Facebook friends, but I haven’t seen them in years. One friend, whom I used to see, wrote on my Christmas card that she missed me. I miss her. When I visited my mother, I always stopped into her house for coffee. I don’t see any of my college friends anymore either. When I went into the Peace Corps, they wrote for a while but two years is a long time. They went on with their lives, and I wasn’t there. I was going on with mine in a different way. When I got home, I reconnected with several, but we had little in common anymore, only our pasts. I have friends with whom I was in the Peace Corps, and we keep in touch, call periodically and see each other every year or so. Others with whom I served are e-mail friends. The longest friendships I have are with people with whom I worked. We have been friends nearly forty years, and we stay close, always in touch, see each other all the time. My closest friends lived down the street. We were sporadic friends for years but became family when we retired. I see them all the time, and we share adventures and holidays and nights on the deck. We watch baseball together and moan and groan and curse the Sox on occasion. We play games and harass each another as we play. The air is sometimes blue.

I suppose some people live in the same town where they grew up and never lost touch. Their kids go to the same schools they, maybe even have the same teachers, but for many of us, we grow older, move from school to school or town to town or job to job and vow to keep in touch. We do for a while, but life gets in the way. We do make friends and memories at every stop and for that I figure we are the luckiest of all.