Super on a Cold night. The Dogs sit on their rug. They have a job. Who among us does not desire, deep down, purpose and place within the pack. The one is a guide dog, you would think she is so obedient, but she is good at her job, and her job is guiding, the other is a youngish pit. So obedient. He is the son’s, but he has been here most of his life.
I am so proud of this young man, though I cannot say it well, and, he cannot hear it well. He loves his dogs, and I greatly appreciate that about him. He is off on deployment. Safe. Safe as one can be out of country these days. His mother is not worried, and that is a big thing.
So they sit, they have a job. We labor in the kitchen and they hold fast on their rug. Pizza. We love our Boboli. We really do. Turkey dinner in the fridge, with all the fixin’s and it is pesto pizza for us tonight. Garlic, spinach, romano, roasted almonds and fresh olive oil, the kind that has a nice bite to it. Definitely not smooth, but good.
Cooking for a family, that is something. Cooking for oneself, apart from family, that is eating, surviving. I have never been particular, and it has shown, but I have gone days, and days and days without food. I don’t eat beans, I don’t eat squash. I’ve been told “if you’re hungry enough”. They don’t say much when I say I’ve gone over two weeks without, and still no bean tastes good. Its only food. You just get skinny.
Yes, children should not go without, and yes, there is so much hunger in this world. People die from it, but in this great nation of ours, we have it pretty good. Even during those periods when I was hungry, it was not so bad.
But now food abounds, it is warm, and food is love. In family, no? four eyes watch me, while my wife lingers beneath warm covers listening to a book, happy and secure. This is what I live for. The dogs are so good. I remind the one, “rug” I say, he turns and sits, watches me. I cut, I chop, I chuckle, I talk to them. They are so attentive. The cats dodge, dash. One perches on the counter behind me. The coffee counter. I am comforted by their presence. They connect me to the richness of life. As does this spread before me. It is more filling, knowing it will nurture those I love.
Into the oven it goes. So quick, and yet, you can pronounce almost everything that we will eat tonight. Onion, Flour, Garlic, Water, Spinach, Almonds, Romano, Cheddar, Peppers, Olives, Artichoke Hearts, Olive Oil. We cheat on the crust. We could make it, but why? We do not have to, at the moment, but we could, I have, and we will again, but for now this is nice.
Why are we so afraid of bread these days? Such a long time staple of life.
Now it is the dogs turn to eat. They wait for the command? Is that cruel? My wife gets the occasional lecture, still, on her oppression of her dog. She guides her. Harnessed up. She is my wife’s eyes, my wife’s traveling companion. They are a team, and, this beautiful animal has a strong place in our pack. I count on her to be there for my wife, and she counts on us to care for her, and together we are family, and we support one another. Together we brave the storms, and delight in the sun, the wind and the rain, but, tonight we feast. As family.
