POTLUCK at A’s house! T-R-A-D-I-T-I-O-N! Let the magic begin.
A. tucked her roast chicken into the convection oven to keep warm. When K and I arrived, my Quinoa-Brie-Banana-Pesto-Vegetable Casserole went into the other oven beside K’s Apple/Pear Crumble.
A.’s large property consists of a house with a garage that has a small apartment built over it. A. inhabits the apartment. Its design morphed out of the dictates of wiring and plumbing which offers a unique layout. For example, the stove and sink are across the dining-room/kitchen from one another, but that’s never prevented A. from hosting great potluck dinners.
In terms of measurement? The living area of the suite is smaller than most photography studios I’ve visited.
A large dining room table is the centerpiece for the kitchen/dining area. It’s been laid decoratively with colour, taste and technique. Four solid and comfortable wooden chairs await our company and conversation. J, the fourth member of JAAK, would arrive soon.
The scent of cinnamon wafted from the oven. I was about to suggest sampling K’s dessert when J appeared, modelling her hot, new burgundy jacket with matching shoes.
Although the owner of two homes, J was house-sitting for family members. She appeared with a large, new-to-us salad bowl overflowing with healthy ingredients topped with raw almonds. A bottle of poppyseed dressing joined the other condiments on the table.
We were ravenous. Our offerings were on the table in minutes – a veritable feast of healthy food for hardy appetites that dazzled the eye and stoked the senses.
Did we think photograph? No. We were hungry.
We gorged ourselves. An hour later, we dressed the Crumble’s golden oatmeal with No-Sugar-vanilla ice cream and devoured the delectable apple/pear ensemble with sounds resembling a sensuous woman’s boudoir.
As we were finishing, K suddenly fished out a tiny camera.
“I just want a quickie photo of the four of us. I gave Amy a picture frame for her birthday. We need a photo to put in it.” she said.
The quickie photo session turned into a two hour production of Canada’s version of Saturday Night Live.
Having left her glasses in some obscure vehicle, K attempted to prepare the camera. She managed to find the settings for “timer”. Without an ounce of alcohol or any other mind altering substances, we organically proved that one tiny digital camera in one small apartment could not produce one successful photo of four sober, determined, independent, and intelligent business women.
In chairs, on the floor, on the couch, half on the couch, looking forward, looking right… Nothing worked. We could not stop laughing. We moved furniture, piled wooden boxes for the camera, dislocated the cat, tripped over carpeting and refurbished the tiny apartment.
Not once did we consider changing the settings on the camera. If it had any…
“Okay, let’s all sit sideways and look up.”
“Someone else set the camera this time!”
“Move the table further away from us.”
“Our tea’s cold!”
“K & I can hardly sit on these cushions. Why are we falling off?”.
“Poppyseed Dressing has to be an Opiate! That’s why we can’t get a decent photo!”
Anyone who knows how to take a photo: You are invited to our next potluck. JAAK will cook!
(At least we did something right. Our order of seating was done well.
Imagine if K and I had switched places…
J A K A s instead of J A A K s? That was close!)