After supper


Tonight after supper, William took all the children, except Steven, to Anne’s basketball tryouts.  I was left with a sleeping baby, and the task of cleaing up from supper*.  It was a difficult task, and I enjoyed doing it partly because I was able to do it uninterupted (by children or by another task that needs completing  I like making the dishes clean, the table and stove shiny, and finally sweeping up the kitchen–just how my grandmothers would have done for centuries past.  I also washed the cast iron skillet and reflected on how this type of pan has been used for decades to make really great food and, for its value, can’t be beat by the modern high-tech fancy metal cooking pans that are all the rage (and terrible expense) now. 

Now, I can relax and do a little writing, a little sewing, and little quilting (my first–more on it later), a little reading, and wait for my loves to come home and tell me how the basketball tryouts went.  What team is she on?  Who else is on her team?  Who is her coach?  Did daddy get roped into being the assistant coach?  Did Hythe run up and down the bleachers the whole time?  Did he fall? 

Then, the flurry of bedtime.  Then, a quiet, content household.

*Full disclosure:  I rarely have the task of cleaning up after supper.  My wonderful husband insists it is his duty to clean up after any meal that I cook, and he does so cheerfully almost every night–no matter what awful messes I have made in the kitchen. 


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