E. Boyer
It’s good to take a break. Gives us time to think and breathe and consider. When I sat down to write this column, the topic I had in mind was objectionable people, but upon further contemplation, I decided that there’s no shortage of objectionable people in Piedmont, many of whom will be here for a long time and therefore plenty of time to write about them. So, I turned my mind to someone who will only be here for a short time, more. This, in turn, led me to two topics that I rarely confront in my column. Sadness...and toast.
The best compliment my column could ever achieve has always been a nod from the Post’s seldom seen or heard “proof reading department.” When she thought it was genuinely funny, I felt that it might be pretty good. Sadly, she won’t be able to read any more of my columns...that time has passed. When I think about her, I’ll think fondly of impromptu dinners, love of politics, sharing a gin and tonic, ice cream and Bailey’s and something her partner described to me when I saw him last: when the housekeeper arrived, her routine was not to get down to the business of housecleaning, but for her and the housekeeper to sit at the dining room table and talk for a very long time...just catching up. “It usually involves toast” he said. The housecleaning was always secondary. The image, for me, was a reminder of the significance of simple pleasures with special people. It was also a reminder that the true gems in life don’t always hold court at every party and often don’t even attend parties, preferring to socialize with only the intimate few whose friendship they value. They don’t always serve haute cuisine to the movers and shakers, but deliver the most memorable of occasions at their cluttered dining room table, often involving only toast and strong coffee.
Because I know the Post’s “proof reading department” would hate this particular column, I’ll attempt redemption by ending on a brighter note...
I’m appreciative of those friends and family who know that I’m always amenable to leftover pizza and cookies from a bag. I’m happy to report that I have no idea how much money those most important to me have and that no one dear to me ever feels they must call in advance before stopping by my house. I hold sacred the less-than-glamourous truths with which I’ve been entrusted and value most the company of those who don’t feel compelled to tidy-up before I come over for dinner. In short, my life is filled to the brim with happiness due, in no small part, to the most basic and lovely of life’s occurrences. Significant people are not always cloaked in glorious pomp. They often prefer to enter unannounced and leave a path emblazoned with humility, intelligence and kindness. They know all too well that, with the right folks, few things in life are better than a good piece of toast.
Respectfully submitted and with love to Anne..
