Sometimes we just go browse the archive of what we’ve written here over the past eight years, looking for inspiration or guidance, but what we find instead is another world populated with garden wishes, sun dappled afternoons and glimpses of friends gone too soon.
It’s filled with memories of the way we were at the time, snapshots of when the “Old Girls” weren’t really so old and were our only help, with two dogs and the pain of their loss still lying before us.
The Big Kitchen was really just that, a transformational time, the dishwasher frightened the Rosco dog, days were short and Barb made deliveries in the trunk of our T-Bird.
It all seemed so spacious; we did our own yard work and only had one garbage bucket.
Some of you remember, thank you, we can see you nod, smile and remember that dinner we prepared for your family or that other time when our big kitchen was a frame and Lola Dog brought in that quail she’d just caught, Barb had to pretend actual Christmas glee before the dog, caught up in the joy of the moment, dropped the bird and danced a jig.
We know Uncle Pete in Yuma glances at our scribbles every now and then.
Truly, we miss the sausage, his good humor and sly smile, wishing him all the warmth that old sun can bring.
Love to Aunty Em, Uncle Neil, Nancy, too.
And, to each and every on of you that has touched our lives in this unique, special way.