I get a
call from Shari. “Hi; I have my home to
myself. Why don’t you come for dinner?”
Shari is a master chef. She’s one
of those people who can throw together something that would take a normal
person hours to plan and execute. Shari
does it effortlessly.
I pick up a
bottle of my new favorite drink, Prosecco, and head over around 6:30. The plan is to have dinner and then watch
the Biden-Ryan debate.
Shari makes
a Greek salad with a dressing that is better than any I’ve had. The main course is rack of lamb…baked first
and then broiled. It’s perfect. She serves me half (that’s four chops) and
herself one (she’s not that hungry). I
eat everything, and it’s amazing. I am
secretly thinking that I probably will have to start tracking again if I ever
really want to lose five pounds.
Our
conversation vacillates between funny, light anecdotal topics to serious life issues. We turn on the TV to watch the debate, but
our own conversation is far more interesting.
I’ll watch the highlights tomorrow.
Tonight I’d rather enjoy the delights of a warm friendship.
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