Whipped Cream on Waffles

Posted: May 26, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” – Kurt Vonnegut

Today, happiness was a little homemade whipped cream and fresh berries on top of waffles while I sat at the table with a few friends I’ve known for years. (It was the first time I’ve made whipped cream myself, and it was well worth the brief effort — I usually just skip it; I don’t at all like the fake stuff.) Earlier this year, we started making an effort to have regular Sunday-night dinners like this, where each of us contributes a little something, and we cook and eat together. We rotate whose abode we visit each time. Besides being an inexpensive way to eat together, it feels right, to set things up like this; it’s communal, familial even. We invade each other’s kitchens and complete our tasks, grabbing our own glasses and drinks as if we all still shared our living space. (The fact that most of us do or have at some point lived together, in some combination or another, probably bears on this.)

It also feels familiar because it takes me back to the ritual of my family’s get-togethers when I was growing up, before my cousins moved and got married and had their own children, before I moved out of state for college and then stayed here. We would regularly congregate at my grandmother and grandfather’s house on weekends, with everyone bringing food to contribute to the massive pot luck we always had. After my grandma died some years after my grandpa did, we didn’t gather as regularly, and I know based on a poem I remember writing in high school that I felt the lack. How fortunate I was, though, to have had that experience of seeing family frequently when I was a kid, and I knew it. Now, these Sunday meals with friends seem to bring a kind of symmetry. To me, it doesn’t feel so much like starting a new tradition as reinstating an old one. So, tonight, I’m feeling especially grateful for my family — both my flesh and blood back home and the friends who’ve become like family over these years — and for simple things like homemade whipped cream and time with friends on a beautiful summer day.

 

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