Table@Home
There’s No Place Like
Home A fire, a book and a pot of sauce bubbling on the stove By Caroline Barrett | Photos by Paul Barrett
I
magine this: it’s 22 degrees outside. The afternoon sun is almost gone and the black, leafless tree limbs bend against the fierce wind. Inside, it’s a different scene. The cat is curled up tight in his favorite chair. Stretched out blissfully in front of the fire is Agnes, our black lab. I’ve chosen the sound of the wind and crackling fire over any TV or music. Paul is snoozing on the couch after a long day of work. Elliot sits with us, limbs draped over our big chair. The girls are squirreled away in rooms. I don’t call them down. A pot of tomatoes, onions and garlic simmers on the stove. I’ve pulled out a box of pasta and a good chunk of Parmesan cheese. This is life as it should be. And then, shattering the peace: Lucy. My oldest comes bounding down the stairs in the way that only she can do. Sometimes I tell her that she sounds like the Russian army passing through. Other times it’s a herd of elephants. Either way, it’s loud. Especially if she’s excited. “Mom?” she says in a super-sweet voice. “Can I go to the movies tonight?” I looked up from my book. Sure, I thought. Of course you can go to the movies. But the mother in me knew. Something was up. This wasn’t just a plea to see a flick with friends. She wanted more. “None of the other parents can drive,” she continues. I waited. “Either way,” she finishes.
80 | Life@Home