Memories

Onions and Onion Rings

 

“We’d also like an order of onion rings,” my husband told the waitress.

“But mommy, you don’t like onions,” my almost-eight-year-old turned and said to me.

Instantly, I was taken back to having dinner with friends almost 12 years ago.

—

“What would you like?” asked the waitress.

“A such-and-such sandwich. Please make sure there are no onions,” I answered.

“And what would you like?” she asked my husband.

“A such-and-such sandwich. And no onions please,” he answered.

“Would you like an appetizer?” she asked.

“Onion rings,” we responded jointly.

Giggles came from our friends at the table. The waitress stifled a chuckle.

“What?” I asked our friends.

“Oh. No onions but onion rings. Yeah, we don’t quite understand that either,” I answered with a smile.

—

I don’t like onions.

I like onion rings.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Playing in the Dirt

 

I should have been working on paperwork or the pile of dishes. Instead I found myself in the midst of my flower bed. Instead of wearing my usual grubby flower bed cleaning clothes, I was wearing my jeans with a black belt, my little cute black shoes and a nice t-shirt.  What was I thinking?!!? The boys played outside. It was a beautiful day.  I decided to dig in the dirt.

I should have been checking my email to find out what important tasks or information I was missing related to my responsibilities.  Instead of wearing my gardening gloves, I was letting the fresh dirt sift through my fingers. My hands were dirty and getting scratched. I felt a worm squiggle across my fingers. The smells from the dirt transported me back to the days of making Oscar the Grouch soup in my mother’s bird bath.

I should have been taking care of paying bills and making phone calls. Instead I was digging up unwanted bushes. I thought of the flower beds we bought with this house almost twelve years ago. I thought about my pre-kids days when I would take a couple days off of work, my aunt would fly in from the Midwest and we would garden for days. Oh the money we spent on mulch and rocks and pretty flowers. Oh the time we spent running from store to store searching for the perfect perennial to put in the perfect spot.

I stepped away from the piles of pulled out bushes and raked up flower bed debris. How funny that in the midst of the bushes and dirt, I found enough lost sidewalk chalk to create a whole new bucket. The memories of yesterday combined with the moments in the present. And a whole new slate of dirt and openness to start to plan. A newness. A freshness. An opportunity to play in the dirt.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Simple Spaghetti

 

She made a simple spaghetti. Noodles and V8 juice. Yep. Just noodles and V8 juice.

I still remember sitting at her dining room table. Slurping. Laughing. Eating.

I make a more involved spaghetti. Whole wheat noodles. Pasta sauce. Ground beef. Mushrooms. Garlic. Seasoning.

My boys sit at my table. They slurp. They laugh. They eat.

Every time I sauté the mushrooms, garlic and seasoning, I think of her. As the ground beef is browning, I remember the way she would move around her small kitchen.

As I pour the whole wheat noodles into the boiling water, I chuckle at her plain white noodles. I wonder would she use whole wheat now.

As I pour in the store-bought three cheese sauce to simmer, I can almost taste the V8 juice. As I watch my boys eat, I think of sitting at the table with my siblings and cousins.

My boys cheer for my spaghetti. I’m sure I cheered for my grandma’s spaghetti. What I wouldn’t give to slurpe, giggle and eat at her table just one more time. Her simple spaghetti of noodles and V8 juice.

My grandma died in a car accident almost fifteen years ago. The older I get, the more I miss her.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.