Posts Tagged ‘dinner’
Weird Night
Last night my feelings went through a bit of an unplanned roller coaster ride as a result of two different hours of television. Cyndie and I have settled into a routine of late where we turn on PBS Newshour during our evening meal. I think it’s a bit of a nod toward acting our age. The last month has been thick with political news but, thankfully, coverage has swung away from the outrageous insurrection and toward the refreshing articulateness of the new administration.
I sat down to a remarkable plate of boneless barbequed ribs and sides that rivaled fancy restaurants while listening to analysts and an incoming cabinet member speak clearly and intelligently about the issues of the day. It was delicious in every way.
Watching politicians who are able to speak without hyped manipulations of reality, instead, talking comfortably, concisely, and without animosity, is so refreshing it made me downright giddy.
Maybe I was just delirious over the incredible meal Cyndie had prepared.
It was bliss.
Unfortunately, about the time I should have been turning in for the night, Frontline was on with an episode about “Trump’s American Carnage.” I knew it would be horrific, but presented with Frontline’s high quality of documentary production, I couldn’t resist.
It was so incredibly opposite of the glee I enjoyed earlier, I almost forgot how good the new administration feels.
On the bright side, I didn’t forget about the great food I enjoyed.
When I stop to think about the last four years of enduring the 45th President, I am amazed I survived with my wits only partially dimmed. But I understand why I find myself feeling so emphatically thrilled over the contrasting ambiance of the entire administration that has succeeded him.
It’s a lot like that sensation you have when you finally stop banging your head against a wall.
The roller-coaster swing last night from high to low made for an unexpectedly weird Tuesday night.
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Sibling Dinner
My Hays siblings don’t gather often, but whenever we are all able to be in one place at the same time, it’s a real treat. Last night, we met at Elliott and Wendy’s house in Richfield for dinner.
The weather was HOT and HUMID at the beginning of the evening, but just as the grill was getting ready for cooking, heavy rain began to fall and that cooled things off a little. Elliott braved the downpour, beneath his hanging umbrella over the grill, and prepared chicken and burgers. The rest of us were to bring the sides.
The delicious coleslaw and a spicy white corn concoction that Judy and Mary brought were dwarfed by the massive collection of desserts that they and Cyndie laid out on the table.
It ended up being a little dinner, and a LOT of dessert.
I particularly enjoyed some of the reminiscing about the different memories of mealtimes when we were young. I asked if there was pressure to clean our plates, because I don’t remember any, yet have always tended toward that behavior. Apparently, there was some history there. Mary recalled Auntie Kay was one source of that message.
I remember our father at mealtimes asking if there was a fire, or “Where’s the fire?” in the sideways manner of getting us to notice how fast we were eating. Elliott said that eating fast offered the best chance of getting any seconds.
It’s been a heck of a lot of years since we were all kids eating around the same table, but for a few minutes last night, I enjoyed a glimmer of some of those times with my brothers and sisters.
I feel very lucky to have such wonderful siblings.
What’s not to like? They remind me, in so many ways, of me.
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Vantage Point
While sprawled on the living room rug after a mere single rep of planking, after leaving the couch because I was tired of wasting time waiting for a page to load, I watched the scenes of dinnertime unfolding before me from the unique vantage point.
It was entertaining and I was feeling exceedingly lethargic, so I laid there for a long time, propped on my elbows reading until the meal was served.
Cyndie grilled pork chops, and served them with sweet potatoes and corn on the cob. It was delicious.
She feeds me like I’m a king. I can never thank her enough for the elegant culinary luxuries she bestows upon me. Especially when it involves walking around me as I lay on the floor like a slug, watching her move to and fro in the actions of her craft.
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Relative Something 