Valentine's Day

Dear Laurel,

I still love Valentine's Day.  When else can you pour out your affection and kindly thoughts on your friends and family and have them readily accept with a happy and sometimes surprised, "Thank you!" I invited six single women of various ages to come for a Valentine's dinner party.  No one had to stop and think about it.  They all said yes and now the anticipation is running high.  It's just fun to have something special planned for a day often thought of as a couples only day. I'm all for making it a good day for everyone.  Hope you and your dearly loved will have a sweet time together where ever you are.  We'll talk soon.

All my best,
Kate

Making it real

Dear Sonja,

  When we were out for coffee the other day you asked how I was doing with living alone.  That day, and the days previous, I was doing fine.  This afternoon when I came home, still not feeling 100% I felt at loose ends.  So many things have changed, so many things to think about.  The only thing for it was start in the kitchen.  It was a rush of comfort to see the apple peel curling away, to smell the cinnamon, to feel the rough edges of the oats and grit of the brown sugar.  Now I know where I am, and everything's okay.  Thanks so much for asking.

All my best,
Kate

Brown bag dinner

Dear Cal,

  When my guest turned up an hour early for dinner the other evening I wasn't ready. All of the groceries were still in the brown paper bags sitting on the kitchen floor. (I'd been home for just a short time.)  So I offered her a chair by the fire, and I prepped my ingredients as I pulled each item from the bag.  Apparently not knowing what would happen next was quite entertaining. In the end the food was good and we talked for hours.  You should try it sometime--dinner theater breaks the ice and gets the conversation rolling!   Like you always say, "Sometimes you just have to grin and get on with it."  Good advice.

All my best,
Kate
  

It was perfect



For my good friend, from Tori--2009

Dear Sonja,

  This lovely mug bounced out of the cupboard this week, hit the floor and broke into five pieces.  It's broccoli you know. (That's what she said when she gave it to me.)  Perfect for me considering how many, many pounds of broccoli Tori chopped for me in our catering days.  Perfect because it held my three shot Americano with a little milk, exactly.  But mostly perfect because of the inscription she scratched into the bottom of the mug before it was fired.  I'm going to try to glue it for pencils and pens, but if it doesn't look nearly perfect I will send it on its way and choose instead to simply remember what perfect was like.

All my best,
Kate