Word of the Day: Pot Luck

I feel totally lucky to live in a neighbodhood where I like the people who live next door, across the street and down the block. In fact we like eachother so much, that we often get together for impromptu dinners, like the one at my house the other night.

Everyone was drinking wine and mulling around the kitchen. I was rummaging through the fridge to see what I could use to make salad dressing. As I tossed some oil,vinegar and mustard together, my neighbor said, “Hey! Isn’t that my bowl?” 

I don’t actually remember buying the bowl, but it’s been in my kitchen and played a key role in food preparation for  at least two or three years.  I wanted to say “Prove it!” Because I really like that bowl. It’s perfect size and the color goes great with my countertops.

“Maybe, it is yours,”  confessed. “But I left my favorite yellow bowl with the stripes somewhere, so I need this one.” I also need the little ceramic cheese tray that someone left at my Christmas open house, the salad tongs that were orphaned at a block party last  summer and a basket that was abandoned after I broke my elbow and the neighborhood responded with an outpouring of food delivered to our house.  

“I don’t have your yellow bowl,” she said. “But I do think that I have three of your wine glasses,” she  said, “and your fondue forks.”

 “You do?” I tried to remember when  I lent them to her.

“Let’s call it even,” she said. “The dressing needs more salt.”

Love this neighborhood.

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