We lost power again Tuesday morning. Being on top of the mountain, we knew we'd be one of the last concerns of the power company as they scrambled to restore juice to populated areas - towns!
So we fueled up the oil lanterns, hauled in wood for the stove and ate dinner Tuesday night by the glow of the above-mentioned.
There are many conversations around our dinner table I wish we had record of. We cover topics from personality types (and thoroughly disect everyone's!) to dirty jokes to politics to Tiger Woods to the state of the media to sex to relationships to God to our past and on it goes. No topic is off-limits, even the ones I'd like to skirt around, like politics. I don't like discussing politics with my family.
The conversation started out light, each of us fixing our tacos and trying not to burn ourselves on the lamps. Then it seemed, in a matter of minutes, we were on this deep subject of life, of dreams, of past experiences, of places - each of us weighing in passionately with our opinions, the shadows and flames dancing across our faces, highlighting our animation.
We all spoke and we all listened. One person's opinion was not more important then another's thought at times one or two of us had to beg to maintain control of the floor.
"Please. Let me finish."
And we all hushed to let the speaker speak.
Then we all traded opinions and threw in our two-cents.
It went on for two hours. By the time we were finished, naturally ended by someone getting up to start cleaning the table and another moving away to throw wood on the fire, it was 9 p.m. and we all slowly retired to our respective places to sleep.
In the morning, over breakfast, we were still discussing, some of us having spent a portion of the night continuing our discussion in our own thoughts and dreams.
This is our family. We argue, we reason, we defend, we listen, we concede, we disagree, we joke and welaugh.
I wish you could be a fly on our wall at dinner time.