Friday, March 7, 2014

spaghetti night now and then

Last night was leftover night because I had too much running around to do.  I didn't have time to cook like I usually do.  It's a good thing I had made spaghetti a few nights earlier.  It's a good thing my family loves spaghetti.  They mind having a spaghetti repeat a few nights later.  I had to make more noodles and toast some garlic bread.  I added a little more spice to the sauce because sauce has a tendency to mellow after refrigeration.  It didn't take long and seemed better than it had been on Tuesday night.

While setting the table, before calling them in, I thought of candles.  I didn't set candles, but I thought of them and smiled.  Why did I think of candles?  EVERY TIME mom served spaghetti to the FInlayson family growing up, there were candles on the table.  The table would be set with a table cloth and candles burning.  It always made spaghetti night special to me as a kid, all eight of us eating our spaghetti dinner in the dark, to the light of the flickering candles.

I wish though that I had a picture of the man on the ceiling. There's no way I can describe him for you.  Every time the candles were burning beneath the old lamp fixture, there would be a shadow cast upon the ceiling over our heads that resembled a huge smiling face.  It was an unusual of old hanging fixture in the kitchen.  I haven't seen one like it before or since.   Ours was a mere happenstance that a candle lit beneath beneath would cause such a funny looking fellow up there.  It did every time. 

So I reheated the spaghetti last night thinking of spaghetti nights of my youth.  Thinking of the old vinegar bottles covered with colorful candle wax that I had not thought of in years. Thinking of all my siblings eating our spaghetti, while giggling at the big happy shadow on the ceiling smiling down at us. 
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