Every now and then I am visited with a feeling of great happiness at being in just the right place and doing just the right thing at just the right time. Saturday was like that. Our older son was coming up for an early celebration of John's upcoming birthday and I was in the kitchen, making a chocolate cake. It was raining gently--a much needed rain-- and the warmth of the stove was welcome. And I was using my mother's flour sifter and my grandmother's cake racks. Like the letter I posted about on Saturday, it was a living connection across the years. Later, there was fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and salad--an archetypal family meal. Josie showed off for her uncle and later, after she and her mama had gone home, Justin returned and the brothers talked late into the night. And the cake was great, if I do say it myself.
