Once there was a house.
It was a beautiful house.
It was a big house.
It had a big backyard.
With a pool.
The Lady of the House loved to host gatherings.
There were parties in the living room.
Parties in the family room.
Parties by the pool.
One day, the Lady of the House announced that she was to be married several months hence.
Friends of the happy couple were each invited to bring a dish for the reception, much like a potluck.
Immediately, many culinary ideas were proposed, so many that the Lady of the House offered to host a pre-wedding potluck for all involved to present their dishes and determine which would be served at the reception.
That first potluck went well, though the results regarding whose creations would make the cut were inconclusive.
The second potluck a week later went even better, but further deliberation was still needed.
By the third gathering, a regular weekly potluck had taken hold and the catering of the wedding reception was happily turned over to the handful of true foodies in the group.
Of course, the wedding took place in the big backyard.
And the potlucks continued.
There were potlucks in the living room.
Potlucks in the family room.
Potlucks by the pool.
Contentment reigned.
Then came a malady.
Suddenly it was unsafe for people to gather.
The Lady of the House consulted her friends and made the heartbreaking decision to end the potlucks.
I was blessed to be a member of that group.
I miss that house, which now belongs to new people.
Hmm, I wonder if they like potlucks ...
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