Dec 13, 2009 by Naomi.

Looking back at a big party depended upon many things and it took a complicated formula to make it a success. There had to be an expectation. A declaration. “I will have a party.”

What type of party? How about the season? Could the guest list include those who would also constitute a special get-to-gather? Why not? So it was to be a party of siblings and their offspring. Perfect guest list. Previously that arrangement had been held at a restaurant but this time the youngest sibling and spouse decided to hold the party in their home. And that was the plan.

Ah, then came the work. What to serve? There are always seasonal specials. Yes and there are personal likes, dislikes, and allergies to be considered. Those were well known so a list was made. A long list. A day at the market. OK, so the food got to the kitchen, some to be unwrapped, cleaned, cut, sliced, or diced — fruit, vegetables, dips and garnishes. Next, how to serve and on what?

Luckily there was a delightful assortment of pretty glass dishes in the uppermost shelves. Oops, they were stored for months, so washing was in order and so they were. Crackers, breads, spreads, cheese, meats, pickles, olives, garnishes, placed strategically on a table beside plates, knives, forks, and napkins. But not haphazardly. Carefully and artfully arranged on appropriate tables covered with colors of the season. Lovely. Appetizing. Healthy.

Guests arrived and grazed on the arrangements. Much conversation ensued about where have you been, what have you been up to, when will we see you again? Lots of recall to remember who did what and there has been nothing the likes of that ever since. As an onlooker, I was impressed. The party was successful. Host and hostess quite pleased as they watched thick snowflakes gently falling. Cleanup tomorrow is another task but even that will be pleasant because each dish, chair and mess will recall memories of the clan and past occasions.

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Dec 13, 2009 by Naomi.

What better way to start a day than taking a walk through a park? I begin at the Bed and Breakfast where I’ve been staying for the past week which just happens to be on the edge of said park. Of the distance in yards from my residence to the falls, I have no idea but at a brisk pace it takes about thirty minutes to walk the round trip.

Today the temperature is twenty-eight degrees F which is crisp and invigorating. I meet several folks that are familiar to me from past walks mostly because I recognize the dogs that walk them. Some are leashed according to local rules but most are not. I’m not certain what that says about law abiding citizens but never mind that. So far not one of the canines has taken a bite out of my ankles or any other part of my anatomy or a made a lunge that threatened me. I get along fine with dogs so long as they stay a respective distance away, at least beyond slobber range.

But I digress. The path is level, solid packed gravel that crunches pleasantly beneath my comfortable running shoes, in which, by the way I never run. I keep my head up, shoulders back and take big steps to challenge my heart. Doc says the pump is A ok and I exercise regularly to keep it that way. My sinuses clear up and with a few blows I feel quite human again. The falls roar as I overlook the rushing water, blow again and begin the trek back.

And so I am left to contemplate the green terrain of ferns and tall trees, dropping off to my left and rising steeply to my right. Different from the flat dry sand of my desert. Remains me of the cockpit in Jamaica where I walked to spy indigenous birds. No crunching gravel there. But I am in the rain forest and await the snow forecast for the day. Maybe the precipitation will be light and not spoil the party planned by my hostess. The food is ready, therefore, company or not, I will eat and eat well with the appetite I worked up with the walk in the park.

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