On the table: dinner plates and napkins waiting to be set out; Adelaide and Harper's art from the day waiting to be moved; a game of Set in action; today's harvest of tomatoes that didn't fit into the dinner pot; and my great grandmother's (now broken) rolling pin on its way to the workshop where I hope it will have a proper fix and come back to me right away (there's some consolation in knowing that my grandmother and mother both would forgive me knowing that I broke it crushing ice for magaritas).
At the table, my three boys wait patiently for a late dinner. It's a quiet(er) one than usual with just five of us, as one sister sleeps early and the other enjoys a sleepover. We've just compromised on the music we're listening to - between The Lumineers and B.O.B., we landed on Spearhead. Calvin says I can share his picture on the blog just so long as I get the shot of his (fake) tattoo in here. Ezra narrates the game in pig latin. Harper is reminding us all that soon he'll be jumping on a trampoline in gymnastics class (four weeks away). Tomatoes have been slow roasting in the oven, and sausage cooks on the stovetop, all to be placed over pasta just as soon as Papa comes in from doing evening chores. With all of us right here, there won't be a dinner bell. But the hot food coming off the stove will be the call to action they've all been waiting for as plates and napkins are spread out, water is delivered, candles lit, and we all sit down to dinner. We'll pause for a moment of peace to bless the meal and give thanks to each other. And then we'll share our evening meal, together, here at the table.
(Last time, at the table.)