“There are times when wisdom cannot be found in the chambers of parliament or the halls of academia but at the unpretentious setting of the kitchen table.”
Some tables are round, oblong, or rectangular, and I have had one of each. Our rectangle table was purchased by my daughter when she was still home. She felt we needed a nice table and I agreed enough to buy the chairs. This was not the table that had five little children around it but it does have grandchildren, often enough to feel the sticky, tacky, hand prints of littles.
In the winter the eating area is the farthest away from the heat source. The living room can be 75 degrees but the kitchen table is barely reaching 65. So, we don't always eat at the table. I see that as a problem. The graciousness of having a meal together is often non-existent. I tried to solve the issue by placing beautiful placemats and dinnerware on the table early in the day. I wanted that to draw me to it. It worked at first, but the novelty died away. I eat less mindfully in a comfy chair in the living room. I put things in my mouth without tasting them. Then, I eat a little more because I am so comfortable and don't want to get up. It strikes me that traditions that require connection are often inconvenient. Choosing convenience casts a dimmer light on family closeness. I feel interested in choosing more wisely.
I am joining Ann Dee Ellis and other writers in using a prompt to record memoir moments. If you don't write your story, who will?