Last night my friends and I sat around the table enjoying each other’s company. We also shared a wonderful dinner, my St. Patrick’s Day corned beef and cabbage, a day late maybe but still a tasty dinner to celebrate the occasion. Last night was also bitterly cold. Today is sunny and warmer, but it is in no way warm enough to welcome spring.
The paper today said this winter and the first two months of 2015 were the hottest on record globally, with a chilly east coast sticking out like a cold thumb in a toastier world. Yup, that would be me.
This morning I could go back in time. On TV I had my choice of Daniel Boone, Dragnet, McHale’s Navy or Quincy. All I was missing was a bowl of cereal, my Rice Krispies, a seat on the floor in front of the TV, and my mother telling me to move away from the screen or I’d go blind.
Yesterday the window on my back door got steamy while dinner was cooking. I was reminded of the kitchen in the duplex where we lived until my sister was born. The kitchen was small, almost a galley kitchen. At one end of it was a window and the table and chairs were in front of the window. Every night my mother cooked supper and every night that window got steamy. I’d sit at the table and use my sleeve to clear the window so I could look outside. I’d watch my mother cook. She’d stand over the stove stirring whatever was in the pots and would sometimes open the oven to check on the meat. I know potatoes were in one of those pots. We always had potatoes.
Today is an empty dance card. I’m glad as I’m tired from the last couple of days of kitchen duty, of setting the table, peeling veggies and cleaning up after dinner. All that’s left for today is to empty the dishwasher and take a nap.
