Today’s Positive Adjective:
Convivial: relating to, occupied with, or fond of feasting, drinking, and good company
Growing up, I anticipated one day more than any other. More than Christmas or even my birthday. When spring broke winter’s frigid grip, school recessed, and we packed the car, headed to Aunt Opal’s farm.
April was a busy time, and we “city folks” as my cousins called us were the hired help, nobody could afford to hire. Despite my cousin’s insistence, our tiny town didn’t compare to St. Louis or Chicago. Still, it was larger than the town nearest the homestead. Aunt Opal’s farmhouse hustled and bustled more our “city” house ever did.
Her kitchen whirled with activity, the convivial epicenter of farm folk for miles. While daily events varied wildly, everyone who entered her domain received a loving embrace. It didn’t matter if it had been five minutes or five weeks. The greeting never changed, nor the question which followed.
“You hungry, dear?” she would ask, and proceed with your choices. A slice of strawberry-rhubarb cobbler? A hunk of warm bread right from the oven? Well, a glass of lemonade then? Once your belly was full, she put you to work. Except it didn’t seem like work. Not when she was recounting the latest Taylor twin’s antics. Or how she found her best, laying chicken cuddled in the hayloft with the cat, three days running, despite locking the hen in the coop.
No, I couldn’t wait. The two-and-a-half-hour trip took much longer. I suspected Daddy drove slowly, to torment me. Wedged between my brothers in the back seat I willed the car to go faster. I dared to ask my question once again.
“Daddy, are we there yet?”
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer