More For Us, But...

Things are finally settling down a little at work.  Two nights ago, I actually got home a bit early for a change, a pebble on the other side of the scales weighed down by weeks of later-than-planned.  I prepped chicken stock to simmer in the slow cooker during work the next day and prepared a decent dinner while some really good jazz played.

I ate alone.  Dave was at play practice, where he will spend all evening and some weekend hours from now until mid October.  How I missed someone with whom to share my good little meal.

I had made a quickie version of gumbo, preceded by a simple salad of baby spinach, dried cranberries, and toasted almonds with mustard vinaigrette.  Nothing elaborate mind you, but quite satisfying.  As I was savoring the gumbo, I wished that I knew someone to call up and offer to share my dinner.  It was too good to be unmagnified. 

No one jumped to mind, so I finished dinner alone.  My consolation is a quart of gumbo in the freezer for a tired evening.  But I already have two quarts of emergency dinner in there.  I would rather have blessed someone with good food and the sometimes sweet relief of not having to prepare it.

That's why I mention this at all.  I didn't want dinner companionship because I was lonely.  I wouldn't have been trying to meet my own needs by finding someone to eat with me, although it would have done that, too. It just seemed a shame that someone else couldn't be made joyful by that simple food.  Somewhere, there are people wishing for a good cooked meal but unable to have it for whatever reason. It would have been nice to even those scales, too.

As usual, I had a good idea, a winning idea, but didn't act on it.  My next door neighbor might have benefited from my instinct.  I'll never know.  Unless I make a different decision about the next overly bountiful solo meal...

While leaving enough for my sweetie to take for dinner before play practice, too, of course.  Then again, he would be fully in support of sharing, even if we didn't have extras.  He's very giving like that.  I'm lucky. In all kinds of ways. Dinner is just one of them. I want someone else to be lucky, too.  Maybe next time.