Coming downstairs this morning, my dining room table sat devoid of the items usually kept on it: glass flowers in a vase, my Merlin CCTV that I use to read, a photo of our first bird whose cage used to sit on it. It made me think immediately of last night, when we had some friends over for dinner. We told stories, drank wine, laughed and ate a great meal together.
The dishes have been put away and the bottles recycled. But seeing that empty table this morning, surprised me for a moment, and gave me a fuzzy feeling. No, I am not talking about my tongue from the vino, but a happy warmth on a cold March morning.
Sometimes, food isn’t the only leftovers.
