Dinner in the making...

Nothing makes me happier than a friend who will open my refrigerator. It’s symbolic of the level of friendship.

Last week I invited a handful of friends for dinner. The intention was casual, though my normal routine is to attend to most detail in advance, before guests arrive, so I can relax and enjoy the evening. On this particular night, time slipped by and I just couldn’t get it together - arriving home only minutes ahead of the guests, groceries still in hand.

With no discussion, my friends scooped up the bags and put all the food away. Before I knew it Margaret had my refrigerator stocked and Sally rearranged my pantry as she put things away. Then Margaret faithfully attended the blender and Nat fired up the grill.

Dinner was nothing fancy: a few side salads, meats on the grill and corn on the cob with herbed butter (garlic, lime, hot sauce and a last minute decision to add a little lavender – Good Lord, good call!)

The food itself wasn’t the centerpiece of the evening, it was the fellowship. Preparing the meal together was a true communal effort. Everyone lent a hand in some way or another throughout the night. When I could stand no longer (back injury), Margaret emptied the dishwasher and Sally reloaded.

And the funny thing is, I don’t think anyone felt like they worked; it was just time spent together, joyfully preparing the meal. I’m proud of the friends I’ve collected over the years and have learned to be selective. I feel valued by them all and hope they feel the same from me.

In my next life, I’d like a dining room that seats 30 and a refrigerator the size of a bus.

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