Daily Miracles: Wine, Chocolate, and Stories
Last night I held a wine and chocolate soiree for a large group of women, and let me tell you, if you want to draw a crowd, include on the invitation those two magic words: WINE and CHOCOLATE.
Soon the dining room packed so full of women holding wine glasses that I grabbed a plate full of delights and my sister's elbow and repaired to the living room, which was completely uninhabited, and chomped through a chocolate-caramel-sea salt graham in relative quiet. The girls entered from a soccer game and I excused myself to put them to bed (Martin received a phone call from his father about my mom-in-law, who is in hospital but okay). By the time I'd tucked in the children, the women were exiting to the cool, candlelit porch toward their cars, and I and a few welcome stragglers surveyed the table, which was still covered in wine and chocolate--by a rough count, at least 15 bottles of red and white and plates and plates of gourmet chocolate.
"Wow," said one woman, leaning over to count bottles. "You made out rather well. How gauche am I?" she added, and stopped counting.
An unpremeditated benefit of hosting an autumnal wine and chocolate party! I guess you all know whose house to come to for dessert (and happy hour) for the next few months! Stop by anytime.
This morning my joy was made more complete when I found an e-mail in my inbox from the editor of Spider Magazine, informing me that they were happy to take two more stories for publication. Some of you helped me think of chicken names to use in one of the stories, which I actually reworked completely to be set in southern Kenya: "Mr. Mosop's Kukus." The other tells the story of a father and daughter harvesting apples in Montana ("Apple Days") and my heart feels full and warm to think of these two favorite places in the wide world being celebrated through story!
Add to this that the world is full of sunshine and birds this morning--and my larder full of chocolate and wine--and I feel like the richest woman in the whole world. It makes me want to hold another party.
Soon the dining room packed so full of women holding wine glasses that I grabbed a plate full of delights and my sister's elbow and repaired to the living room, which was completely uninhabited, and chomped through a chocolate-caramel-sea salt graham in relative quiet. The girls entered from a soccer game and I excused myself to put them to bed (Martin received a phone call from his father about my mom-in-law, who is in hospital but okay). By the time I'd tucked in the children, the women were exiting to the cool, candlelit porch toward their cars, and I and a few welcome stragglers surveyed the table, which was still covered in wine and chocolate--by a rough count, at least 15 bottles of red and white and plates and plates of gourmet chocolate.
"Wow," said one woman, leaning over to count bottles. "You made out rather well. How gauche am I?" she added, and stopped counting.
An unpremeditated benefit of hosting an autumnal wine and chocolate party! I guess you all know whose house to come to for dessert (and happy hour) for the next few months! Stop by anytime.
This morning my joy was made more complete when I found an e-mail in my inbox from the editor of Spider Magazine, informing me that they were happy to take two more stories for publication. Some of you helped me think of chicken names to use in one of the stories, which I actually reworked completely to be set in southern Kenya: "Mr. Mosop's Kukus." The other tells the story of a father and daughter harvesting apples in Montana ("Apple Days") and my heart feels full and warm to think of these two favorite places in the wide world being celebrated through story!
Add to this that the world is full of sunshine and birds this morning--and my larder full of chocolate and wine--and I feel like the richest woman in the whole world. It makes me want to hold another party.
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