Good Food, Good Friends, Good Family

First published in the January 11 issue of The Oxford Journal, by Sara Mattinson

Whether you are a come-from-away or know someone who has gone-far-away, the worst part about living separate lives is giving up the long-time activities you would do together. While the absence of familiar rituals hits particularly hard at obvious times like Christmas, birthdays, and anniversaries, sometimes the simple pleasures you pursued together are the ones you miss the most. Take heart: There are creative ways to defeat the distance. 

My friend Elaine phoned on Saturday.

“Can you and Dwayne come for supper tomorrow night? Freeman and the girls are cooking supper and we need you to judge the dish.”

I anticipated a full house but it was explained to me that none of the girls - Freeman’s grown daughters - would be there. They used to have family cooking contests and guests would get to choose the best meal but now the girls are spread far and wide: Ontario, Pennsylvania, and Connecticut. Missing the ritual of the monthly cooking competition, they decided to try it long distance. 

It’s not as silly, or difficult, as it sounds. When I was living at home helping to take care of my father who had Alzheimer disease, my mother and I played Scrabble every night. When I went away to Georgia to house-sit for my sister, I simply called up my mother and we played over the phone. We tweaked the ritual in order to keep doing what we loved to do together (and the phone made it easier for her to cheat).

It’s not easy keeping friends and family members close and involved in one’s life when there is such distance between. A running joke: I call up someone, say my friend in Vancouver, and announce, “We’re having lobster for supper. Can you be here by six?”

Always, the friend replies, “Yes!”

 It’s part of the joke but it’s also our way of saying, “I miss you. Wish we were together.” 

Back to Freeman’s part of the long-distance supper challenge. Did he win?

“Ten out of ten,” my husband declared with his mouth full. 

“But the potatoes aren’t quite done,” Freeman lamented.

That didn’t matter to us. As the grateful judges of this cooking competition, our score reflected our delight in the tasty meal, the scintillating conversation, and the heartfelt attempt to keep families knitted together, doing what they love to do, no matter how many miles are between the main course and dessert.

A Second Growing Season?

My younger sister and her family live in Georgia, in the country about an hour south of Atlanta. They have two growing seasons there; the first one begins in March and the second one in July or August. Imagine! Twice the opportunities to grow tomatoes and peas and zucchini and pumpkins (is that why American Thanksgiving falls in late November?).
We may be catching up here in northern Nova Scotia. When we can let the chickens out of their fenced pen to roam around our one-acre yard, it means it's time to clear the annuals out of the flower gardens. Yet many of my annuals - sunflowers and zinnias excepted - were still in bloom. They seemed worn out, likely tired of coping with the temperature extremes of warm days and cold nights, or perhaps they are simply weary of treading water after all the rain we've had, but they are still in bloom. In fact, my osteopernum were not merely in bloom - they were reblooming. The plants looked so strong and healthy, you would have would have sworn it was July. I didn't have the heart to rip them out of the ground.
Here's the thing: although I believe in global warming and know it's humans paving the ground and spewing poisons into the water and atmosphere that has caused it, it's tempting to enjoy the prospect of a second growing season. Think of all the hard work that goes into creating and maintaining flower gardens (as well as vegetable gardens but those are my husband's domain); if those gardens could last two months later, that's more time to take pleasure in the sights. If that's the case, however, I'm going to have to plant more late-season bloomers like asters, helenium, and sedum.
And perhaps if we can offer a second growing season -- and no cockroaches -- I'll be able to convince my sister and her husband and their four kids that northern Nova Scotia is as good a place to live as southern Georgia.