Everyday Silver
I shake my head trying to comprehend a reality where using actual silverware on a daily basis is the norm and running it through the dishwasher is okay.
Tag: Camelot
Meeting Max
Snapping back to reality, I focus on a perplexed Max staring at me standing frozen halfway between him and the kitchen holding his bottle of water. He had to have been thinking “where did mom get this guy??”
Hire that cook!
I realized I was standing slightly crouched with my arms out and my eyes wildly scanning the room for the TV remote (probably looking like an incredibly well-dressed cat burglar).
The Palm Pilot
Standing at the pay phone, I pull my Palm Pilot out of my pocket to look up my calling card number. I dialed the litany of numbers, turned around and leaned against the phone booth.
‘I am not your man’
“Okay,” I sighed to the empty dining room. “At least I get to go home now.” And with that, I walked into the kitchen, thanked the cook, said good night, walked out to my car and began my drive home.
The Lit Grill
Shaking, I walked into the pool house kitchen and washed my hands. I had just risked setting myself on fire rather than argue about the obvious risk of moving the grill.
On Thin Ice
After finishing the review, I hung up the phone feeling like everything was going to be okay. Boy, was I wrong.
Marine One and the Cake
In the span of about 30 seconds, the President of the United States had blown out the candles on the cake and absolutely destroyed my up-’til-then flawless cake delivery.
The White House Phone Call
I go upstairs and am treated to a withering diatribe about my handwriting that ends with, “I can’t read this. Who spells ‘hamburger’ with a ‘z’?”
‘Just Don’t Quit’
This time I stood over the phone, staring at it, thinking, “three people in less than 15 minutes have all emphatically told me not to quit. On my first day. In my first hour. And they all knew she would be out of the house and chose this time to call. What have I gotten myself into?”
Interview with Camelot
We wander out of the office, down a hall passing an original, signed Emancipation Proclamation, the framed handwritten-then-typed notes of her late brother-in-law and a bunch of other odd bits of history that many museums would die to have. And enter The Salon.