Faint voices from the far end
of another hall, calling or crying. Perhaps it is only one
voice, with the murmured second voice just now and then. This
is my life now, but in my dreams I'm in a flock
of friends & we're all getting stuff done. Meals
are ready for those coming back from delivering pre-election
mailers to doors and gates, and thinking about the dream I
suddenly remember my husband coming home from a trip
to a big church picnic and eating my best-ever potato salad while
complaining that I never cooked such wonderful food for the
family, only for crowds. It was true, of course; I did not like
cooking for the family, day after day. I did like cooking up
one huge dish for a crowd. Now of course I don't cook so I
don't know what I would like but I think it would be
about the same. Institutional food is often awful but I
still prefer it to messing around in the kitchen day
after day. Potato salad, split pea soup, lentil stew, those
were my best kitchen works though I do remember
baking a pumpkin chiffon pie once; Thanksgiving was upon us and I
didn't want to do the tried and true, though I will say
the tried and true where
pumpkin pie is concerned
is the best.
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