A Day of Simple Pleasures Within A Winter Weekend

The rain fell off and on in a sporadic manner and dished up such assorted offerings as drizzle, grey skies, glimpses of blue sky, sunshine, ominous clouds and rainbows. Celestial wonders to behold!

I had been given the gift of a rare Saturday off from work which in addition to my regular days off, gave me an unexpected three-day break. This was a grand day--a day wide open to do whatever we want to do, whenever. In this hurry, scurry so-much-to-do in the so- little-time world in which we live, this kind of day was a rare treat. What better thing to do on such a cold, stormy day than to make a big pot of soup together? Along with other delightful conjugal activities, this is what my beloved and I chose to do. My husband has developed the art of creating fantastic soups over the years. We can never decide upon which one is his best but the one we collaborated on today just might win the prize. It’s something like a cross between minestrone and cioppino, made with chicken. Good Lord, it’s fantastic. He concocts and I prep cook. It’s a well choreographed waltz we perform in the kitchen, neatly sidestepping each other as needed. We work well in the kitchen together which I believe, like a happy, long lasting union, is a rare thing.

This was a simple pleasure, easily achieved, but full of the stuff from which memories are made. Once the soup was done, dinner was easily pulled together. We made our standard olive oil dip into which to dip a slice of crusty bread. We opened a bottle of red wine which my daughter and son-in-law gave to my husband for his birthday (in addition to the kitty). Our son went to work for the evening and my beloved and I enjoyed this soup of his creation, the bread and the wine beside a cozy fire burning warmly and comfortingly in the fireplace. A movie tonight? No. Instead, we listened to themusic of decades past; music we listened to as we fell in love. I’ve often read that smells carry a person back to a time and a place within their memory. For me, it is music; a song, an album. I hear the song and I am right back there reliving how I felt and what I was doing when first I heard the music. Truly, this works like magic for me. It refreshes and revives my memories about how I felt when I was 16, 21, 25 and so on up to the present. I think it’s important to keep these memories alive and well. I don’t want to ever forget how I felt when I was first swept away by that initial gigantic wave in the sea of love; water in which I’m still happily treading. When I hear the songs from my blossoming adolescence, I fall in love just a little more deeply. Evidently, there’s no end to this madness...and that’s very, very wonderful!