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a quote from my favorite author

“The most solid advice, though, for a writer is this, I think: Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell, and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

-William Saroyan, The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze

Sunday, March 29, 2015

VINTAGE SLICE #26

March 25, 2012
VEGGIES AND DIP
 
sometimes I get a little help from Mark
I take all the vegetables out of the fridge and lay them out on the peninsula of countertop. 

I select a cutting board—I am in a red mood today. 

I dig the knives, the carrot peeler, the colander, the Tupperware out of drawers and cabinets. 

The most important bowl is saved for last.  I open the bottom cabinet to step on its shelf in order to reach the ceramic bowl on the top cabinet’s second shelf.  For as long as I can remember this white bowl with the blue painted design (is it flowers?) has been our family’s dill dip receptacle of choice.  I am not sure how I got away with snagging it for my own house, but perhaps that was a bonus of my parents getting divorced.  Some items got lost in the fray. 

There is something about chopping fresh veggies and mixing up a batch of dill dip to go with them that makes time feel well spent.  That extra little treat with our meals each night will make the week feel like a holiday.  It is a reminder that the weather is shifting, a reminder of special occasions, a reminder of my family. 

Our best moments as a family took place in the kitchen.  We were famous for sitting at the island bar, heckling whoever was busy doing the work of cooking at the moment.  As the responsibility shifted, so did the target of our humor. 

Even now, after our family has drifted in separate directions, my mom still gets excited when she is invited over for some good ol’ dill dip and veggies.  And my dad’s new girlfriend, who loves to cook, has finally mastered the dill dip recipe enough to make me feel at home when visiting. 

I place the white ceramic bowl on the counter and grab a handful of green onions. I quickly get lost in the rhythmic chops.  I am home.  

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