Sunday Suppers at the Table

Twice a month, I go to the home of some dear friends, along with dozens of other people. And we gather along long tables and share food and talk to each other and learn about one another. There are so many different types of people in this gathering, too, and that’s the very best part. We’ve got mild-mannered, head-covered Mennonite ladies sitting across the table from a sailor-tongued, crop-topped atheist and what are they saying to one another? “This broccoli-cheese soup is so good, who made it? Do you think I can get the recipe?” Or the most commonly heard phrase, “I have needed this so much.”

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Photo: Blue Muse Photography

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Page 92: Rainy Days and Mondays

It’s Monday after a weekend away.

I wiggle out of my spot as the little spoon, sit on the edge of the bed, and feel my muscles vividly because of all the fun we had together the past two or three days. Walking and walking and driving and driving. My neck, in particular, seems to be pulling in a certain  direction that I blame on the 3+ hours behind the wheel. So I stretch the other direction hoping to even it out.

I haven’t lived in this house long enough to have the muscle memory required to make it down the hall without waking everyone and so I flinch every time I hear the floor creak. My eyes catch a glimpse of movement in the other room. The cat is in my her office, sitting in the window, watching the rain droplets join each other and trail down the glass—her head bobbing up and down, following them one by one.

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