Lying awake one night, I found myself remembering certain moments--all involving food and/or drink. Vivid memories, as I've always been probably overly fond of food and drink.
There was the tall glass of a perfect vodka and tonic, the rim rubbed with lime and a generous slice of lime within. Back in the early Seventies, our friends Bob and Eleanor had invited us to dinner. We'd spent a hot summer day working on the house we were building on a lake outside Tampa. We showered and drove in to Tampa and our friends' place. The house was air conditioned; the meal was undoubtedly excellent as Eleanor was and is a fantastic cook; but it's that vodka and tonic that lingers in my memory. Respite!
Another hot day memory-- late Fifties. Bahamas with my friend Lynn and her family. and the amazing jolt of an iced coca cola after hours of snorkeling--and I didn't even much like cola drinks.
July 1972--just home from the hospital with a new baby and recovering from a C-section. My mother-in-law appeared with a cold bowl of sliced mangoes. Absolute heaven! Bless you, Frances!
And then there's the cup of coffee that John brings me every morning and most evenings--the elixir of magic beans, made even more potent because someone else fixed it.
Sometimes it's the simplest things that mean the most. Do you have any similar memories?
