The Dining Table

Three and a half weeks until Thanksgiving, my second favorite holiday, and my very favorite season.  Cooler weather....falling leaves....cleaning house in preparation for Thanksgiving festivities, and autumn runner on the table.  Happiness! 

Lots of laughter and love still echo through the hallows of my kitchen, well in the cobwebs of my mind, all culminating at my dining table.  Oh the tales, my table could tell!  Some good, some not so good, but lots of love, lots of laughter, and lots of good food, and hopefully some manners taught.  Even though my children were picky eaters, one never wanting anything between to pieces of bread and the other wanting nothing but something between two pieces of bread, being at that table was always the highlight of my day.  It was the one place we were together without the distraction of the phone, stereos, or the TV.         

About 2 years ago, hubby and I began to lighten up.  We now have our oatmeal and coffee in our cozy comfy chairs in front of the living room windows.  We are still making memories.  You see, it isn't really about the table, it is about being together without distractions.  It is sharing and making plans for our future.      

Childhood memories:  One of my very first memories was at the kitchen table at the Kotnik place where we lived when I was very tiny.  The only memory I have of that house is my dad leaning back from the table on the back legs of his chair, drumming his fingers, one finger at a time, on the counter behind him, while lightening lights up the room.  (By the way, as the infamous story goes, this is the place where daddy dropped me on my head.  He dropped the handle of the bassinet and I rolled right out.  Daddy loved to tell me this story; and that is why I am the way I am!)  

Family, do you guys remember the gray dinette set we had, the one where R. had her year old picture taken?  When we first got it, it was the "company" dinnette.  There was another wooden table in the kitchen, the one in the alcove.  Crowding seven people around that small table in that tiny alcove was a bit of a challenge but mom came to the rescue by making a vinyl covered bench with hinges which attached to the wall so that it could be let down as needed.  I can still see those blond curly headed little girls setting on that little bench.  My brother sat at the end of the table, my mother opposite him closest to the kitchen, dad and I sat across from the girls with me between mom and daddy.  That seating arrangement remained with us with every table we ever had.

About 1961 or 62 we moved to the south place.  After a few years mom got another nicer table with brown floral vinyl chairs.  We had that one for years and she still had a few of the chairs until she passed away.  Finally she got the nice wood table, the one that was always covered with a vinyl tablecloth unless it was a special occasion when we covered the table with a pad and a white linen or knit tablecloth.  That is the one that the grandkids will remember, the one that daddy never wanted to leave when we came for dinner.  He thought the conversation would drop when we got up from the table, and he was right!  I love you all!!!