Long tables

I have been thinking about long tables.

I thought about them last night while I walked in a coldish rain.

In July, undesirable chill.  Yet cool and fresh on my face.

I reached out to touch a hot pink hydrangea along the street (a hydrostahl, as a lovely German man tried to translate at a party over the weekend because we sought common vision of these old fashioned flowers he said he grows on his terrace).

Wet, strikingly cool bloom.  When was the last time I touched a flower in the rain?  I asked myself.  When did I ever do it?

I was thinking about my last weeks and months.  Lots of dinners with friends.  A lot of long tables with food and wine.  I found a photo of the perfect long table in a magazine while I sat backwards on the fast train from Paris that I will show you tomorrow.  I will also tell you why it is my vision for my life.

There were lots of long tables when I grew up. Picnics.  Family birthdays. Christmas. A good deal of food, but no wine when I was a kid.

And at work: amazing long tables!  Groups of 20 or 200.  Employee cafeterias, Italien restaurants with clients, board room style meetings.

Now I want a long table of my own.  I always gathered around them. Perhaps once I will gather them around me.