My smile has finally settled down and it's been pasted on my face since Tuesday morning.
Background: Right after Glenn and I married I prepared roasted Cornish hens for him. He went nuts and they became his new favorite food. He'd never had them. At that meal I related to him the first time I'd had them.
I was 13-years-old and my daddy had taken my mother and me for a week's trip to New Orleans. The city was magic to me and I marveled at everything I saw. I can still see the beautiful John J. Audobon prints.
One of our meals was in the beautiful Blue Room of the Roosevelt Hotel. The dining room was something straight out of a movie set. Padded and curved banquettes, long white tablecloths, sparkling glassware, shining silver, real flowers on the tables. The whole nine yards.
My dad was a true lover of food and when I perused the menu I was simply overwhelmed and asked him for a suggestion. He recommended the wild rice-stuffed Cornish hens, which I ordered. OMIGOSH!!!!! Triple yum.
My mother wasn't much of a participant, which was too bad because daddy loved to enjoy himself. Her behavior was nothing new. So...he and I danced our feet off to the live orchestra and hummed to and tapped our feet to the performance of the Andrews Sisters for the floor show.
The night was magic and I think of it every time I eat a Cornish hen.
Okay, 'nuff background. Fast forward to last Tuesday.
I normally get to visit with my youngest brother every Tuesday when I go to "town" to do our grocery shopping. He owns a business there and I usually stop in to see him for a few minutes.
He's in the middle of making a life change (possibility of moving to Nashville) and has been going through stuff and thinning out his personal world.
As things have played out over the years, he wound up with much of what was left of our parents' goods. Not much, mostly photos, letters, etc.
He told me to close my eyes, hold out my hands and...
When I opened my eyes, there was a huge manila envelope. I opened it and inside was a beautiful blue folder with a photo of me and my parents, sitting in our beautiful padded banquette at the Blue Room.
It was all there, the brilliant white tablecloth, sparkling glasses, silver, the flowers...all of it. Even though the photo was in black and white, I knew exactly the dress I wore, the necklace, bracelet, all of it. It was as if I was transported back to that magical night 50 years ago.
Background: Right after Glenn and I married I prepared roasted Cornish hens for him. He went nuts and they became his new favorite food. He'd never had them. At that meal I related to him the first time I'd had them.
I was 13-years-old and my daddy had taken my mother and me for a week's trip to New Orleans. The city was magic to me and I marveled at everything I saw. I can still see the beautiful John J. Audobon prints.
One of our meals was in the beautiful Blue Room of the Roosevelt Hotel. The dining room was something straight out of a movie set. Padded and curved banquettes, long white tablecloths, sparkling glassware, shining silver, real flowers on the tables. The whole nine yards.
My dad was a true lover of food and when I perused the menu I was simply overwhelmed and asked him for a suggestion. He recommended the wild rice-stuffed Cornish hens, which I ordered. OMIGOSH!!!!! Triple yum.
My mother wasn't much of a participant, which was too bad because daddy loved to enjoy himself. Her behavior was nothing new. So...he and I danced our feet off to the live orchestra and hummed to and tapped our feet to the performance of the Andrews Sisters for the floor show.
The night was magic and I think of it every time I eat a Cornish hen.
Okay, 'nuff background. Fast forward to last Tuesday.
I normally get to visit with my youngest brother every Tuesday when I go to "town" to do our grocery shopping. He owns a business there and I usually stop in to see him for a few minutes.
He's in the middle of making a life change (possibility of moving to Nashville) and has been going through stuff and thinning out his personal world.
As things have played out over the years, he wound up with much of what was left of our parents' goods. Not much, mostly photos, letters, etc.
He told me to close my eyes, hold out my hands and...
When I opened my eyes, there was a huge manila envelope. I opened it and inside was a beautiful blue folder with a photo of me and my parents, sitting in our beautiful padded banquette at the Blue Room.
It was all there, the brilliant white tablecloth, sparkling glasses, silver, the flowers...all of it. Even though the photo was in black and white, I knew exactly the dress I wore, the necklace, bracelet, all of it. It was as if I was transported back to that magical night 50 years ago.
